Samaritan Lives Matter
Segregation of races and cultures is nothing new. Neither is the animosity and hatred that often exists between people of different backgrounds and perspectives. First-century Palestine was rife with strong and deadly prejudices between diverse peoples. It shouldn’t surprise us then to learn that a mainstay of the ministry of Christ was seen in his attitudes and relationships with those different from himself.
For starters, Jesus chose Simon the Zealot as one of his team of twelve disciples. Jewish Zealots believed in the overthrow of Rome by force. They pinned their ultimate hope on a military messiah who would lead them to victory. It was not uncommon for a Jewish Zealot to plunge a dagger in an unsuspecting Roman soldier. Yet, in spite of his violent intolerance and bigotry, Jesus chose Simon as one of his twelve disciples.
Jesus regularly rebuked the racial exclusivity of his own people. In his first sermon in his hometown synagogue in Nazareth, he reminded the congregation of the faith of the Canaanite woman who provided for Elijah and the Syrian General Naaman who was healed during the ministry of Elisha. He compared the faith of these two despised Gentiles to the lack of faith found in Israel. The result was the good synagogue-going people of the city tried to push him off a cliff.
After healing the servant of a Roman centurion, Jesus turned to the Jewish crowd saying that many people, just like him, would come from the east and the west to take their place in God’s coming kingdom.
But of all the prejudices and animosities Jesus confronted, none was more entrenched and pervasive among Jews than their utter contempt for their Samaritan neighbors. The Samaritans were considered to be inferior half-breeds and heretics. When Assyria conquered Israel and its capital of Samaria in 722 BC, they deported most of their Jewish captives, leaving only the poorest of the people to remain in the land. Later, the Assyrians relocated peoples of other lands and religions to the region of Samaria. The result was intermarriage among the races, as well as the mixing of Jewish religion with the religious traditions of others.
There is a lot more I could say about this and the history of the increasing tensions and hatred between Jews and Samaritans, but let me give you one example from within Jesus’ group of twelve.
Luke shares a story in his gospel of Jesus’ plans to stay in a Samaritan village on his way to Jerusalem. The Samaritans made it clear that they did not want a Jewish rabbi in their town. James and John asked Jesus if he wanted them to call down fire from heaven and turn the town and its people into ash. Jesus rebuked them, and they ended up staying in another village.
By the way, it seems pretty obvious that James and John based their request on the story of Elijah, who called down fire on the men sent by King Ahab of Samaria to arrest him.
All this is background to something which I feel very strongly about in my country, and that is what has come to be known as the Black Lives Matter movement.
Many White Americans I know are offended by the Black Lives Matter movement. “All lives matter” is a phrase I have heard on the lips of some of my very best White friends. They are right, and I get it. All lives do indeed matter. But I don’t believe that’s the issue. Nor do I believe that the majority of those who support the BLM movement are saying that Black lives are more important than others.
I think there is genuine concern about how Black Americans are often treated in my country. Let me share a recent experience from my neighborhood.
Sherri and I live in a predominantly Black community. Recently, two doors down from our home, there was a shooting. A seventeen-year-old boy shot another young man who had come to his house to confront him over something. I don’t know what. It doesn’t really matter. The young man who was shot drove himself to the emergency room of our local hospital. The police were informed of the shooting and immediately dispatched approximately thirty officers, many in SWAT gear, to our neighborhood.
I was sitting on the porch with my neighbor across the street. Together, we witnessed the thirty all-white officers descend on the house where the shooting took place. The mother of the boy who was involved in the shooting was handcuffed and forcibly thrown to the ground, all the while shouting, “I didn’t do anything.” Meanwhile, my neighbor is complaining rather vocally about both the harsh treatment and the all-white police force. One of the officers, hearing him, stopped in his front yard and if looks could kill . . .
At that moment, I felt what so many of my Black brothers and sisters have been experiencing for years - outnumbered and afraid.
This growing understanding of the Black Lives Matter movement has also taken place as a result of the church we attend. Theologically conservative and Baptist, our church is a perfect fit, but because it is overwhelmingly Black, both the style and substance of the preaching are very different from the White Southern Baptist Churches I’ve pastored and attended in past years. It is fast becoming a major catalyst in my own spiritual growth and understanding of the ministry and teaching of Jesus.
It’s not easy to see things from the perspective of those who are from different cultures and backgrounds than us. I believe this is even more true when our culture occupies the predominant place in society. But as Christians, we must learn to identify with people from all walks of life. We can do this only as we identify with Christ and his attitudes towards all people.
Mary T. Lathrap was a licensed preacher in the Methodist Episcopal church in the United States in the nineteenth century. She was also a gifted poet who penned the words of “Judge Softly.” I leave you with the words of part of that poem -
“Pray, don’t find fault with the man that limps,
Or stumbles along the road.
Unless you have worn the moccasins he wears,
Or stumbled beneath the same load.
Just walk a mile in his moccasins
Before you abuse, criticize and accuse.
If just for one hour, you could find a way
To see through his eyes, instead of your own muse.
I believe you’d be surprised to see
That you’ve been blind and narrow-minded, even unkind.
There are people on reservations and in the ghettos
Who have so little hope, and too much worry on their minds.
Brother, there but for the grace of God go you and I.
Just for a moment, slip into his mind and traditions
And see the world through his spirit and eyes
Before you cast a stone or falsely judge his conditions.
Remember to walk a mile in his moccasins
And remember the lessons of humanity taught to you by your elders.
We will be known forever by the tracks we leave
In other people’s lives, our kindnesses and generosity.
Take the time to walk a mile in his moccasins.”
In Christ,
Dan