Faithful Conversations #124

Introduction to Readers

“A refugee is someone who survived and who can create the future.” (Amela Koluder)

The parable of the Good Samaritan prompts a memory nearly fifty years past: cool summer mornings in the mid ’70s, walking with my father, escorting a young Vietnamese refugee to catch the bus to the beet fields outside Fargo where he had recently started working. I was a student at Concordia College in Moorhead, MN, and a member of Faith Lutheran Church in West Fargo where my father served. Our parish was sponsoring families fleeing the wars in Vietnam and Cambodia. This was my first encounter with third world people — people who survived war and displacement — something I could only imagine. They were among nearly 300,000 Southeast Asian refugees who arrived in the U.S. between 1975 and 1979. (In Wisconsin alone, thousands of Hmong refugees began new lives during those same years). Arriving at their hot apartment with the smells of seasoned rice filling the air, I helped teach the young children basic English and attempted to communicate with these beautiful people whose world was so entirely different from mine—simple moments that opened my eyes to the human toll of conflict. The Vietnam War, which had loomed large throughout my formative years, suddenly had names, faces, and stories. All these years later, I regret that I did not do more to foster a good experience for these frightened boatpeople living so far from their homeland! My halting, clumsy efforts fell woefully short. In 2025, more than 42 million people worldwide live as refugees—part of a staggering 123 million who are displaced by war, persecution, or disaster. The crisis has reshaped global politics and tests our capacity for collective compassion. As a Christian with Lutheran heritage, I am proud of the fact that refugee resettlement has been a significant part of the Lutheran witness going back to the World War II era. Most notably that work continues today through Global Refuge, an excellent organization.

Thanks for visiting this space again this week and for your continued interest in exploring the Lectionary! We have reached the 15th Sunday in Ordinary Time (and the All-Star Game is just around the corner for those of you that following the Major Leagues!). A notable ELCA calendar commemoration this week is for Benedict of Nursia, better known as Saint Benedict, who died on 11 July 547. My reflections this week will focus on the familiar parable of the Good Samaritan, with a reference to the reading from Deuteronomy. I will also include a fitting prayer for this week’s Gospel and St. Benedict, and a rousing musical selection I hope will bring you joy! I will also have the opportunity to preach on these readings this week at ELC and Hatfield!

** Note 1: Links to outside references are bolded and italicized and are meant for further reading or research on your part. While the text I am including in the blog is my own, I am pulling from a multitude of sites for ideas and connections.

** Note 2: In my increasing use of A.I. (Copilot), I will cite sourcing of how I am using the tool, if necessary. I don’t want that to be overly cumbersome, but I am gradually incorporating more tools. And, by the way, I am exploring the A.I. world this summer prior to my next teaching semester. As you can imagine, it is a great challenge right now and will forever change the face of education!

Common Themes Among the Readings

Reflections: Who Passed, Who Stopped and Why It Matters!

We see Jesus at his sharpest here—not just as a storyteller, but as a master teacher. With this parable, he afflicts the comfortable — he unsettles them. Here’s the setup: A legal expert stands up to test Jesus. What must I do to inherit eternal life? he asks. True to form, Jesus doesn’t answer directly. Instead, he turns the question back: What’s written in the Law? The man responds with the heart of Torah—love God and love your neighbor. But he wants to justify himself, so he presses further: And who is my neighbor? Jesus answers with a story that stuns the crowd. A man lies beaten and half-dead on the road. A priest sees him and walks by. A Levite does the same. But then comes a Samaritan—someone Jews considered a heretic, an outsider, an enemy. He stops. He binds the man’s wounds, anoints them with oil and wine, lifts him onto his animal, and pays for his care.

Jesus doesn’t just tell a story here—he shatters a cultural boundary. Making a Samaritan the hero would have shocked his listeners. The hostility between Jews and Samaritans ran deep. After the Assyrian conquest of Israel in 721 BCE, many Israelites were exiled. Those who remained intermarried with foreign settlers, and their descendants became the Samaritans. They worshiped on Mount Gerizim and accepted only the Pentateuch as Scripture. Jews saw them as impure and unfaithful. By Jesus’ time, the two groups avoided each other entirely. So when Jesus casts a Samaritan as the model of mercy, he doesn’t just challenge prejudice—he dismantles it. He redefines neighborly love as boundary-breaking compassion. And this isn’t an isolated moment. Samaritans appear often in Jesus’ ministry: the woman at the well in John 4, the grateful leper in Luke 17, and the Great Commission in Acts 1, where Jesus sends his followers to Samaria as part of their mission.

As I read this parable again, three reflections rise to the surface. First, as a historian, I’m struck by a powerful Old Testament parallel in 2 Chronicles 28, something I was not aware of previously. After a brutal battle, Israelite soldiers take thousands of Judean captives. But the prophet Oded confronts them: “Your cruelty offends God.” In response, leaders from Ephraim rise—not to dominate, but to heal. They clothe the naked, feed the hungry, anoint the wounded, and carry the weak on donkeys back to Jericho—the very road where Jesus sets his parable. This ancient act of mercy across tribal lines mirrors the Samaritan’s compassion. It reminds us that even in the Old Testament, God calls his people to see the enemy not as a threat, but as a neighbor in need. Is Jesus reflecting this story realizing that those listening may draw this parallel?

Second, for the past few weeks, I’ve been reflecting on how the Gospel and the Old Testament readings speak to each other in the Lectionary. Deuteronomy 30 insists that God’s command isn’t distant or mysterious. Moses says, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe (verse 14). Jesus echoes this truth. The Samaritan doesn’t wait for a sign from heaven. He sees suffering and acts. Love of neighbor isn’t abstract—it’s immediate, embodied, and within reach. Just as Moses urges Israel to choose life, Jesus calls us to choose mercy. It’s not complicated. It’s costly, but it’s clear.

Finally, I’m drawn to how Jesus uses counter-narratives. He does this again and again. He flips expectations, tells stories that disrupt the dominant script — what theologian Walter Brueggemann called the “prophetic imagination”—the bold articulation of an alternative reality. From Brueggeman: People in fact change by the offer of new models, images, and pictures of how the pieces of life fit together. Transformation is the slow, steady process of inviting each other into a counter story about God, world, neighbor, and self.

Yes, Jesus invites us to see the world not as it is, but as it could be. He calls us to imagine a kingdom where mercy triumphs over division, and where love crosses every line we draw. May we act on this message going forward in 2025!

Soli Deo Gloria!

Note: I am indebted to Mennonite Pastor Gina Burkhart and her interpretation of this text as explored in the July issue of The Christian Century.

Prayer Reflection: “The Good Samaritan Life Prayer“

The Good Samaritan Prayer comes from the Sisters of the Good Samaritan of the Order of St. Benedict, located in southeastern Australia. I appreciate the simplicity and clarity, along with the connection to the 10th Chapter of Luke.

Note: In the process of working on the blog, I learned of the tragic flooding that hit central Texas. Two of our grandchildren were attending Camp Chrysalis at the time of the extreme weather, an ELCA sponsored Bible camp just 14 miles from Camp Mystic that was hit so hard! Fortunately, they were safe, but our heart grieves for the many lost lives in that region — let us pray for them this week and beyond. Lives have been forever changed.

A Musical Offering: “I’ll Be On My Way”

Update on “Faithful Conversations”

Our regular gatherings for discussing the weekly lectionary are on a pause. Summer worship at ELC is at 8:30 in town and 10:15 at Hatfield by the lake. The 8:30 service will be streamed. Please stay in touch!

And . . . Looking Ahead: The “Bible 365 Challenge!”

Consistent interaction with God’s Word is a transforming experience. In one of his Table Talks, Martin Luther made the following statement about the spiritual discipline of reading the scriptures: “For some years now I have read through the Bible twice every year. If you picture the Bible to be a mighty tree and every word a little branch, I have shaken every one of these branches because I wanted to know what it was and what it meant.” In September we will be launching “Bible 365” at ELC. The goal will be to invite any who are interested to take on the challenge of reading through the entirety of the Bible in one year. We are currently in the planning process and will offer more details as we progress. We will be following the “Challenge” plan offered in the Lutheran Study Bible (Second Edition, 2025). We hope to form teams that will go through the process together and meet from time to time for discussion. Feel free to contact me with questions and/or ideas regarding this endeavor!