Go and do thou likewise

The first great commandment as declared by Jesus, is to:

37 “love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.”

A seemingly simple task: all we need to do is to love that great God who has given us life, breath, salvation, peace, families, and all that we have. How hard could it be to love such a God?

Well, I still struggle to love Him sometimes. Largely because I can be quick to anger or to bitterness. Why haven’t you given me a third child? Why do I have to struggle with this temptation in my life? Why can’t I be more wealthy? Why can’t I be smarter? More handsome? More kind? More patient? Why can’t things go the way I planned them?

Despite my moments of frustration, if at most any given moment someone were to ask me “do you love God?”, my answer would be a resounding “yes!” Now, whether I successfully act upon that love with all my heart, soul, and mind is unfortunately not as simple of an answer, but I do strive.

The second great commandment is like unto the first

39 …Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.

Again, that seems simple enough. Me and every other human out there are all in the same boat—we’re a bunch of sinners trying to survive life and make the best of ourselves. How hard can it be to feel love for others like me?

Well, as it turns out, it can be really hard. Sometimes it’s simple things, like how that other guy is simply more handsome than I am. Other times, it’s something more complex, like feeling that a parent loves them more than me. Maybe, I was corrected by someone I didn’t know at church, and it stung. Or perhaps they smell bad, look different, or talk too much. I might be scared of them, disgusted by them, disappointed in them, or all too often jealous of them.

There’s a host of reasons, excuses, and justifications that place enmity (or opposition) between my neighbor and me. When we get down to it, loving my neighbor can be really hard.

A man once asked Jesus:

25 what shall I do to inherit eternal life?

To which Jesus responded: “What is written in the law? How readest thou?” Now, based on this man’s answer, I’m prone to think he’d spent some prior time around Jesus, or at the very least he’d visited with those who had. Because his answer to the question is — in essence — the same as Jesus’ two great commandments. He said:

27 Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbour as thyself.

If you were asked what shall I do to inherit eternal life, what would your answer be? Would it be so simple, so distilled? So concentrated? Or might you, like me, get lost in an explanation of kingdoms, commandments, and covenants? The simplicity of our Master’s answer (echoed by this man) is beautiful, and encouraging—salvation is simple.

But, this man, the one who came to Jesus seeking an answer to “what shall I do to inherit eternal life?”, wasn’t so much seeking an answer as he was seeking to “justify himself”. His hope was to show any watching—and likely most desperately to show himself—that he was living a righteous, justified life. That his way, was God’s way.

Have you ever felt similarly? I know I have. Just 2 weeks ago, I lied to a friend about something trivial. Why? Because I was hoping to justify myself—to show that I was living right. I can tell you that as I realized my reality that night, my heart broke. I had lied to a neighbor, to a friend, to a brother. Was that inline with the Savior’s simple salvation—to love God and my neighbor? No, and it just goes to show how much power my pride can hold over me. Pride can and will put distance between me, God, and my neighbor—talk about scary.

Now, back to our friend—as I said, he was stuck in the same trap as me, hoping to show the crowd—including Jesus—that he was living a righteous life. So with that hope in his heart, he asked Jesus an additional question. I suspect he anticipated getting a simple answer confirming his current practice of watching out for his like-minded friends at church—a task he felt comfortable, confident, and even justified in doing. And so, with his expectations set, his current course about to be sanctioned by this controversial Jesus, and likely with his peers around to see and glory at his wit, the man asked:

29 “But who is my neighbor?”

Now, Jesus had heard the question that this man—and that I—needed answered. You see, both the man in this story and I already knew the simple answer to salvation—to love God and my neighbor—so that question wasn’t really a question. But together we were confused at what the depth of that simple love really means.

30 And Jesus answering said, A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead.

31 And by chance there came down a certain priest that way: and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. 32 And likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and looked on him, and passed by on the other side.

Can you hear the conversation between the Lord, and these men? I’m beginning to hear it between the Lord and I. To me, the Lord speaks:

42 For I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink: 43 I was a stranger, and ye took me not in: naked, and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not.

And what…what can I say? Lord, when did I see thee hungry, or imprisoned, or naked, or sick, or with a broke-down car at the side of the road? When did you need me to give you a hug, or to share a message of hope to lift your spirit? When did you ask me for a meal, and despite my overwhelming bounty, did I deny you? When did my heart ever feel pricked to do something kind for you, and I just brushed it off? When did you need me to just listen instead of offering solutions to your problems?

And in this specific case, when did I see you fallen among thieves, stripped of your clothes, wounded, and half dead?

45 Then shall He answer them [and me], saying…Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me.

And now, in a moment, I begin to see—I did it not. I did it not.

33 But […] a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him, 34 And went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. 35 And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave them to the host, and said unto him, Take care of him; and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee.

This Samaritan, gets to enjoy a different conversation with the Lord:

34 Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: 35 For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: 36 Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.

And does our Samaritan, respond by puffing out his chest, by smiling knowingly as he’s finally rewarded for all that he’s done? No. Rather, in his humility, he is blind to the fact that he’s been caring for a God. I imagine He answers something like:

37 …Lord, when saw I thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? 38 When saw I thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? 39 Or when saw I thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?

40 And the King shall answer and say unto [him]…Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.

Now Jesus has illustrated the all-important answer, to the man’s real question—what must I do to inherit eternal life? Or perhaps a better way to ask it is, who must I emulate to inherit eternal life? To which, the now enlightened (and surely humbled) man answered:

37 …He that shewed mercy…Then said Jesus unto him, Go, and do thou likewise.

Of course, in this parable, He that shewed mercy was the Samaritan. But if I think outside parables for a moment I quickly realize that “He that shewed mercy” is likely the most appropriate title I can think of for my Savior Jesus.

While Jesus did and continues to do many incredible things, the one thing He has done so consistently, and with the greatest impact on my life, is to have shown me mercy. Even when I’m angry at Him, or when I lied to my friend last week, or when I failed to stop and help that person on the side of the road. His unending mercy is, for me, His defining characteristic.

Is it any surprise then, that his call to me is to “Go, and do thou likewise.”

So, I am to go and do likewise as I’ve seen He that shewed mercy do. For me, that means there’s a fairly straightforward list of things I should start with:

• Visit and bless the sick and weary
• Welcome strangers into my life and my home
• Visit the imprisoned
• Feed the hungry, and refresh the thirsty
• Provide clothing to those who need it

Now, I’ve certainly had more experience with some of these than I have with others, and some I’ve never done at all. Like visiting an imprisoned person — I’ve never even really considered doing that! Regardless of my involvement in each of these areas, I’m sad to admit that most any involvement I’ve had has been largely unintentional or even accidental on my part. I’ve basically just hoped that this kind of thing would take care of itself.

The problem with simply hoping these kinds of experiences fall into my lap, is that…they just might…or…they might not.

By that I mean, sometimes an opportunity to give or serve may come my way, but I won’t be in a position to do anything about it—maybe there’s no more money in the budget this month, or I’ve already maxed out my schedule already, or I’ve just made a commitment to someone else that I need to keep. In each instance though, I’m ill prepared or even unable to act.

Or…the opportunities will simply never come to me—I’ll just be left with a glaring omission in my discipleship. Why didn’t I visit the imprisoned you ask? Umm…I guess because the imprisoned never invited me over.

Regarding this omission in my discipleship, these words of Neal Maxwell have pricked my heart with the seriousness of my non-action. Said he:

Only greater consecration can correct these omissions, which have consequences just as real as do the sins of commission. Many of us thus have sufficient faith to avoid the major sins of commission, but not enough faith to sacrifice our distracting obsessions or to focus on our omissions.

Most omissions occur because we fail to get outside ourselves. We are so busy checking on our own temperatures, we do not notice the burning fevers of others even when we can offer them some of the needed remedies, such as encouragement, kindness, and commendation. The hands which hang down and most need to be lifted up belong to those too discouraged even to reach out anymore. -Neal Maxwell Oct. 1995

And so, in an effort to avoid 1) the inability to act, and 2) the lack of opportunity to act, I’ve come to realize that accidental or unintentional discipleship just isn’t cutting it for me. I don’t want to leave my discipleship—my love for sisters and brothers—up to chance. I don’t want to simply hope that somewhere in the course of life I’ll have opportunities to be like He that shewed mercy. No, Like anything that I take seriously in life, I want to do this with intention!

We have this saying in english to “strike while the iron is hot”, and I have felt its call to me this week.

The saying refers to the blacksmith who works with iron. First she heats the iron until it is red hot and soft. Then she immediately hits the iron with her hammer to change its shape. If she waits, the iron becomes cold and hard again, and she cannot shape it.

Well, it’s clear to me that both me and the man questioning Jesus have had our hearts placed in the fiery forge. This week my heart has become red hot, it’s soft, it’s ready to be shaped. If I wait to act, my heart will harden, become cold, and lose it’s ability to be shaped. It is critical for me to strike while the iron is hot.

Earlier I shared how (like the man questioning Jesus) I often seek for easy justifications of the life I’m living. Nods of approval from peers, nods from myself in the mirror, and precious pats on the back for every good deed I’ve done. I watch for these things as though they’ll somehow justify my life—as though nods and pats had the power to save. But the truth is, these things have no power to save. At best, nods and pats act as the bucket of water that metal is plunged into after being shaped—helping crystalize the change and giving some encouragement to hold fast in the new shape—but they lack the power to actually make the change in me.

So, if I truly want to be justified—not just the shortcut where I try to show that I’m already living right—but the real deal, where I am born again and made a brand new person in Christ Jesus. If I want that, I must kneel before a loving Savior and plead with Him to make my life right. I must turn to Him to justify me with his mercy. Only then can His promise come into action, only then can my stony heart not simply be reshaped, but altogether replaced:

26 A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh.

So, I’ve chosen to strike while the iron is hot, to seek out a reshaped heart, and then even a new one! My God is justifying me. Snatching me from the everlasting burning of omission. Saving my soul. Making me newly born again, and again, and again. And here’s the best part—I’m not special—He’ll do the same for you too! Is your heart becoming red hot like mine? Are you ready to strike while it’s hot?

But…now that my heart is burning, my inadequacy clear, and the field of need is laid out before me, I can feel the overwhelm sinking in. It only takes a quick 2 minute drive downtown, or a 5 minute walk through the hospital to realize that there’s more needs than I could ever fulfill.

Perfection is the enemy of progress, and so I remind myself—and any who feel similarly—that I need progress, not perfection. Additionally, I’m comforted to know I’m not alone in this exact experience of overwhelm. King Benjamin, must have felt similar overwhelm in himself, his people, and those that would come after them. Because in a sermon on the same subject—retaining a remission of sins and loving your neighbor—he said:

26 And now, for the sake…of retaining a remission of your sins from day to day, that ye may walk guiltless before God — I would that ye should impart of your substance to the poor, every man according to that which he hath, such as feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and administering to their relief…

Then, anticipating the overwhelm that his people would feel, that I would feel, and that you might feel, he offered this guidance:

27 And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order.

While we should not run faster than we have strength, we must also be diligent…in the right things. For me, that may mean enjoying one less night at home. Or it might mean going to bed at 9:30 instead of 10:30 some nights, so I can have the needed strength. Most certainly, it means I’m going to need the help of Jesus Christ. Fortunately, he’s already made a special promise to sustain me:

28 Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

If you, like me, would like to take a bit more of His yoke upon you, I’d invite you to join me in one of four specific ways to love our neighbors, here’s what I have in mind.

#1 · I was in prison, and ye came unto me
I’ve found an opportunity to serve youth that are—for a variety of reasons—tied up in the Spokane County Juvenile Court. There I’m most excited about their detention visitation program. Where you or me can visit detained youth and offer encouragement, support and positive role modeling.

There are also opportunities to serve as a special advocate for children who’ve been allegedly abused or neglected—where you’d look out for their best interests. Or you could be part of a Neighborhood Accountability Board where you and a teammate help a minor offender avoid the formal juvenile court system.

#2 · I was naked, and ye clothed me
Katie has found and is planning to work with a wonderful group on justserve.org that makes what they call “love quilts” for children in foster care. These quilts serve as a consistent anchor in their lives reminding them that their loved wherever they go.

#3 · I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat
I’ve become quite excited about a group called Blessings Under the Bridge that provides relief to those who are hungry. Every Wednesday night they gather at 4th & McLellan under the I-90 overpass and feed ~300 homeless women, children, and men.

In fact, I’m hoping to organize and put together a sponsorship for a Saturday feed this spring. If you have any interest in participating with your time, money, or both, just let me know.

#4 · I was sick, and ye visited me
Katie recently made a new friend who works with the Ronald McDonald House, where they provide a home-away-from-home for families with children accessing medical services here in Spokane. We’re really excited to be heading over there for a tour next week where we’ll find out how we can get involved.

Providence Hospital and the Shriners Hospital for Children also have need for volunteers to help in a variety of capacities too.

These four specific opportunities to love my neighbors reflect the areas called out by Jesus. I am so excited to serve yolked with my Savior in these areas. And I think it’d just be thrilling to do so also yolked with my sisters and brothers from church—with you. Please let me join with you in loving our neighbors, that one day:

34 …shall the King say unto [us] on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: 35 For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: 36 Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.

37 Then shall [we] answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? 38 When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? 39 Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?

40 And the King shall answer and say unto [us], Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.