The week that the Texas Heartbeat Bill took effect, I sat in a balcony in my new church home and heard a message preached on Luke 10:25-37--the Good Samaritan. I do not think this was a coincidence for me.
Here's the story of the Samaritain:
On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
“What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?”
He answered, “ ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”
“You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”
But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”
In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’
“Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”
The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”
Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”(NIV)
Now before I start doing my thing, I need y'all to know how personal this is going to be for me and how vulnerable this *already* makes me feel. Everything I say, I say in love. Please remember that.
So about this parable...
Let's start with the beginning piece of information, which tells us that a man was attacked, exposed, beaten, and left..
Should the man have been travelling by himself? Was he going down a sketchy road at the wrong time of night? Was he foolishly parading around his goods, making him more of a target to robbers? We don't get to know that, nor does it matter. What matters is what happened. He was attacked and beaten and left to die.
Now, I am also going to try to approach recent events from an angle of what has happened. Not whether or not abortion should be legal, not whether or not a bill should have been made into law, but simply looking at what is. In Texas, abortions are now off the table to women who are more than six weeks pregnant. The oppositions to block this bill have all been beaten. And now we are left with these women.
Church, you need to see these beaten women. I'm seeing a lot of commentary about how these women are selfish, horrible, weak, baby-hating murderers. Can I tell you from personal experience what they really are?
Scared. Ashamed. Lost. Desparate. Alone.
The burden of an unplanned pregnancy is painfully heavy. And even though it takes more than one person for that pregnancy to occur, it's the woman that bears the brunt of it. I don't mean to suggest that the father's load is especially easy--not at all. But societally speaking, if the father decides to walk away, then nobody really hounds him. If the father decides to stay, then he's a hero. In contrast, the mother can't walk away from it..it walks with her. If she chooses to terminate, she's a killer. If she chooses to keep the baby, well...we all know the word she's called.
I'm also not saying that these babies aren't still worth celebrating. But I know that choosing to keep the baby in this situation comes with a sort of solemn celebration. That belly will be the scarlet letter a mother wears for a while. Everyone will eventually notice, and everyone gets to know what she did. Telling families is more hard than happy. Some families feel like they have to share with a bit of embarassment. Feeling like you let people down is terrible, and it lingers with you.
I am a mother who had support from so many loving people in my circumstance. A lot of the women who would choose abortion and now can't, do not. I cannot imagine doing what I did all alone.
We've got to get ourselves there together, Church. We have to see these broken women. And seeing broken people should break your heart, not harden it.
The next part of the parable was almost too painful for me to piece together with this, but here we go.
A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side.
Friends, I don't think it was an accident that Jesus chose priests and Levites to be the "ignorers" in His parable. I do think it would be an accident to skim over what this might mean for us. The question we have to ask is why would a priest and a Levite ignore a man who needed help?
Too busy? Too apathetic? Perhaps. But what I worry is actually true isn't what the priest and Levite might have been, but what they thought the beaten man was: Too messy.
The priest and the Levite had duties to the temple to remain ceremonially "clean." They couldn't do what they needed to do in the temple if they chose to help this man--they would have been forbidden to, actually. The man's blood literally could not be on their hands if they wanted to don their robes and go to their stations.
I don't want to have to say it, but you know where I'm going here...
We cannot pass these mothers off, Church. We cannot turn people aside because we might get their "dirt" on us. We cannot avoid their messy-ness. The mess is already here, and it isn't going anywhere. (And guys, unless you're reading a different Bible than I am, it is just going to get messier.)
Can tell you a broken-hearted truth? I have never felt lonelier in my life than when I went inside a church with a baby and no wedding ring. Everybody has something that they're struggling with, but most people try to mask it somehow. I couldn't hide the baby, and it made me a pariah in the pews.
Now, is it fair to those people to put the burden of my shame on them? Nope.
But was it fair to Christ to put the burden of your shame on Him?...
Praise God that Christ was not afraid to come down into our mess and bear our sin and shame, because this is the gospel of grace and love and redemption! He did it first. It's what we're supposed to do, too.
The next part of the parable says a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. If it's not an accident that the priests ignored, then it's also no accident that the Samaritan saw. In Biblical times, Samaritans were not highly regarded amongst the Israelite nation. They were the lesser-thans. The not-so-holies.
Father, help us. The "not-so-holies" are coming to Your people. (Spoiler: they are His people, too.)
In what might be a wonderful mercy of God *TO US,* these women are going to start showing up in droves at the church doors, because they have no place left to go. In desparation and holy irony, they are going to come to the finger-pointers and name-callers and ask for help. If it feels harsh, then embrace the sting a little with me. They know what we've been saying. They can read memes, too.
Have pity, Church, because the in the next part of the parable, we see the cost.
He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him.
The Samaritan tended to the man's wounds. Gave him medicine. Gave him transport. Gave him lodging. Gave him rest. Took care of him.
These mamas are going to need more than a billboard on the side of the road. They're going to need more than beautifully crafted digital file about how we are fearfully and wonderfully made. They're going to need care. Medicine. Transport. Lodging. Rest. Clothing. Food... They need hands and feet, not words. (Please hear this blogger: I struggle with this part a lot. Every day.)
After the Samaritan makes sure the man is settled, he pays an innkeeper with this promise:‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’ This Samaritan wasn't a fly-by Superman. He was coming back again--in it for the long haul. He was invested.
That's going to have to be our story, too. First the mamas, getting them through the pregnancy...Then the babies, making sure they're equipped for a healthy start...Then the mamas again with postpartum recoveries and lives with new babies...then their babies again as they continue to grow...
We have to keep showing up. We have stick with them. Raising children and taking care of people is an investment. It takes time to mature. (And just so we're tracking, there's going to be some extra expense.)
Like I said, this feels personal to me, and I'm about wiped from it all. But I'd be remiss if I did not mention that many of the people who'd click on this link to read my thoughts are the very same ones who've invested in me: in my family and in my faith. I love you so much and I'm thankful for you.
The last part of this story ends in direction from Jesus. Go and do.
I hope we will. In Jesus' Name. Amen.
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