Holes in Fences

Sermon for North Hill Adventist Fellowship

June 9, 2012

Text: Luke 10:25-37

I read a great little story in last Sunday's paper:

Dan and Elizabeth moved into a downtown neighborhood. One of the first things they did was to build a fence. They needed it to keep their two small daughters safe. One of their neighbors kept a pit bull chained to a tree. Dan and Elizabeth had visions of their girls getting within reach of that dog. And besides, they knew the proverb, Good fences make good neighbors. So they built a solid wood fence.

Then the neighbors with the pit bull moved away. And a young widow and her infant daughter moved in. The three girls became best friends. All day long the girls were running in and out of the front doors of their houses and back and forth on the sidewalk. Dan and Elizabeth began discussing the unthinkable: what about cutting a hole in their beautiful fence so their daughters could run next door without going out on the sidewalk.

Then a car went out of control on their block and crashed in a driveway narrowly missing a neighbor kid. That was it. Dan cut an 18 by 48 hole in their beautiful fence. He hadn't even picked up his tools before the girls were running back and forth through the magic hole.

A few months later, the neighbor who lived behind them, a semi-retired photographer named Katy, built a wooden platform in her magnolia tree and a ladder to reach it. Within days Dan and Elizabeth's girls discovered it. For several weeks they climbed the fence to go play in Katy's tree house. Then one day when they climbed the ladder they found Ivy and Rosie at the treehouse. Ivy and Rosie were sisters who lived two houses down from Katy.

The girls found out that years earlier, Katy had cut holes in the fences between her and two other neighbors. She had done it because she took care of the neighbor's gardens.

One evening Katy was up in the treehouse with some kids when Dan went out to light his barbecue. She called down to him. “Hey neighbor. What would you think about cutting a hole in our fence? Dan went and got his sawzall and complied.

Now there are five gardens connected by holes through fences. Seven kids are spread across those five yards. A whole magic universe has been created by cutting holes in fences.

                                           Taken from the June 3, 2012, Parade Magazine. p. 14.

We build fences for good reasons: to protect our children and our neighbors, to define our space, our property. Then we discover the best fences have holes in them.

When we moved into our present house I was surprised to find gates in all the fences. Of course, there was a gate facing the road. But surrounding our place was property belonging to three different neighbors. And each neighbor's fence had a gate into our place. Two of the gates were large gates—large enough to drive a tractor through or a herd of cows.

Those gates were signs of a different kind of life, a shared life. They were powerful symbols that we lived not just in a house, but in a neighborhood. Recently we had to replace the fence on one side of our property. I worked with our neighbor in the construction of the fence. We added two more gates. One for horses back near the arena, one nearer the house to make it easy to walk back and forth between the kitchens.

The best fences have holes in them.

We need the fences at our place. All of have animals. The fences are important for keeping the animals where they belong and keeping them out of where they don't belong. But we like our gates, the holes in our fences that make it easy to walk back and forth, easy to carry pies through and gifts of produce in the summer. Easy to check on people who are sick. Easy to care for one another animals when someone is on vacation. We like our fences because there are gates—i.e. holes—in them.

Making holes in fences is a helpful picture of the ministry of Jesus. He lived in a society that had sturdy fences, imposing walls. The religious conservatives put a lot of energy into preserving those walls. They worked tirelessly to make the walls higher, more imposing, more impermeable. Jesus came along and poked holes in the fences.

The most important wall in Jesus' day was the wall between Jew and non-Jew. Between God's people and other people, between the special people and regular people.

Multiple stories make this point: The stories of the centurion in Matthew 9 and the mother in Matthew 15 show Jesus cutting holes in the wall between Jew and non-Jew. The stories of the mothers and children in Matthew 19 show Jesus carving a hole in another wall—this one the wall between important people—men--and regular people—women and children.

Perhaps the most dramatic demonstration of Jesus' drive to punch holes in thick, high walls is in the story of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10. (I'm quoting from the New Living Translation.)

One day an expert in religious law stood up to test Jesus by asking him this question: "Teacher, what should I do to inherit eternal life?"

Jesus replied, "What does the law of Moses say? How do you read it?"

The man answered, "'You must love the LORD your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your strength, and all your mind.' And, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'"

"Right!" Jesus told him. "Do this and you will live!"

The man wanted to justify his actions, so he asked Jesus, "And who is my neighbor?"

Jesus replied with a story:

"A Jewish man was traveling from Jerusalem down to Jericho, and he was attacked by bandits. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him up, and left him half dead beside the road.

"By chance a priest came along. But when he saw the man lying there, he crossed to the other side of the road and passed him by. A Temple assistant walked over and looked at him lying there, but he also passed by on the other side.

"Then a despised Samaritan came along, and when he saw the man, he felt compassion for him. Going over to him, the Samaritan soothed his wounds with olive oil and wine and bandaged them. Then he put the man on his own donkey and took him to an inn, where he took care of him. The next day he handed the innkeeper two silver coins, telling him, 'Take care of this man. If his bill runs higher than this, I'll pay you the next time I'm here.'

"Now which of these three would you say was a neighbor to the man who was attacked by bandits?" Jesus asked.

The man replied, "The one who showed him mercy." Then Jesus said, "Yes, now go and do the same."

Luke 10:25-37 (NLT)

The expert, the theologian asked an empty question: What must I do to inherit eternal life? It was an empty question for him. He was not actually looking for guidance or help. He was looking to start a debate. He knew the answer. He wanted to see what Jesus will come up with. It was a question that had been kicked around for centuries in theological circles, so no matter what Jesus said, there would be room to say, “Yes, but what about . . .?”

Jesus refused to debate. Instead, he asked the expert for his answer to the question. Then Jesus agreed with him.

It was embarrassing for the expert. He thought he was setting up a conversation that would show off his learning or his debating skills. At least he hoped it would provoke an interesting debate. Instead, Jesus tricks him into giving a right answer, then in front of the entire crowd, says, “I agree. You're right. So just do it already.”

The expert, desperate for something controversial—and thus interesting—follows up: “But just who is my neighbor?” He was still not looking for guidance or help. He was just playing with words.

So, again, Jesus refuses to take the debate. The expert was desperately eager to debate, to split hairs. He was sure that this time he had asked a question that would lead to “On the one hand . . . but on the other hand . . .” Surely now he would be able to demonstrate his sophistication, his erudition.

Jesus refuses to play. Instead Jesus gives the man guidance for his life. Jesus offers wisdom that would heal the world.

“Consider a story,” Jesus said. And he tells the story of the Good Samaritan. And in the process punches holes in some well-established walls.

The first wall is between people with good luck and people with bad luck. An acquaintance who was an Adventist pastor, got crossways with his congregation. The conference was already struggling with finances. So he was fired. He's a creative, hard-working guy. He never dreamed something like this could happen to him. He writes about what happened next. People who had been his friends for years suddenly shied away. It was like he had leprosy. And repeatedly the feedback he got was that he was now “one of them.” He was one of those parasites, those lazy people who didn't work. Never mind the fact that he was desperately searching everywhere for a job.

People who were still employed figured the only way you could become unemployed was by being irresponsible, lazy, or stupid.

In the story of the Good Samaritan, the first couple of people who pass by—the priest and temple worker—thank God that they are not like that poor loser lying there unconscious beside the road. He is a loser. They are winners. He must have done something to draw the attention of the thieves. Maybe he was counting his money as he walked along. Maybe he was wearing expensive clothes. Maybe he was walking slowly and appeared to be an easy target. He must have done something wrong, otherwise he wouldn't be in the situation he was in.

The first wall Jesus punched through was the imaginary wall separating lucky people from the rest of humanity. Jesus made it clear that we all live in the same world. We are neighbors. The misfortune of one is the misfortune of all.

The second wall, of course, was the wall between Jews and non-Jews.

The Jews were God's people. Everyone else . . . well, they were everyone else.

We Americans think the same way. Recently there was a big debate in the media about “American exceptionalism.” We are special. We are the best, the most moral, the most generous. We are the best.

We figure we are entitled to all the blessings that are ours by virtue of where we were born. Other people are entitled to all the misery that is theirs because of where they were born.

Jesus flatly contradicted that.

Mexicans are not less deserving of justice and safety than are people born on this side of the border. Canadians and Swedes, Somalis and Lebanese—these people are every bit as deserving of God's favor and of health, freedom, justice and respect as Americans.

American Christians and American Muslims both deserve the protection of law and the blessings of opportunity. Straight people and gay people, old people and young people, brown people and white people—Jesus story about the Good Samaritan calls us to serve and show compassion freely and indiscriminately across all these boundaries.

Let me push harder: Republicans and Democrats or (to say it better) independents who lean left or right, tend to build thick high walls around their opinions and political identities. Which ever side we are on, we tend to demonize the other side.

Democrats are trying to bankrupt the nation and make it communist. Republicans are trying to destroy our sense of community and reduce us to a Darwinian capitalism. We need to cut holes in the walls between the opposing political camps. People on both sides want a happy, healthy, wealthy nation. They are doing their best to imagine policies that will make the nation better. So we owe each other respectful listening and respectful talking. We need to crawl through some holes in the walls we have built and visit one another. At least, if we are disciples of Jesus, this is our duty.

One last wall that I think needs some holes: The walls of family history and our social circles.

Maybe no one in your family ever went to college. And you might be tempted to think that you belong in a world where good wages are 15 or 20 dollars an hour. That's an okay world to live in. But if God has given you the aptitude for more challenging and more financially rewarding work, then go for it. Pursue the education and training you need to live the dream that God has put in your head.

Maybe its normal in your family for people to wreck their lives with alcohol and drugs. Jesus has knocked a hole in that wall. You can live better.

Maybe in your family men and women fought like cats and dogs, hit each other and screamed at each other. There are other options. Jesus wants you to look through the wall of your family history and see the better world.

Maybe all your friends are joining gangs or getting tattoos over most of their bodies or binge drinking on the weekends or hopping from sack to sack, never connecting deeply at the level of heart and soul and mind.

There is a better way. And it is possible for you to crawl through the wall into that better world. You belong in the better world. It's your world.

The expert wanted a discussion, a debate. He was interested in words, in ideas. Jesus was interested in action. The lawyer already knew, deep down what he was supposed to do: Love God and love his neighbor. He had been using his theology as a way of fuzzing the obligation, allowing him wiggle to avoid loving the people who were inconvenient or unattractive. He used his theology to wall himself in and to wall other people out.

Jesus did not destroy the wall of Jewish identity. He did cut holes in it. His dream is that the children of all the different families in the neighborhood of the world would venture through the holes in the holes, would learn to live generously and compassionately together.