In my mind, the story goes something like this.
A team of archaeologists, digging in the outskirts of Jerusalem, unearth an extraordinary new manuscript of the Gospel of Luke. The thing that most surprises them is that, for an ancient document, it has a surprisingly contemporary feel.
For example, in the document’s version of the Parable of the Good Samaritan, a group of congregational leaders—and it’s not quite clear from the manuscript whether they were Lutherans, Baptists, Presbyterians, Episcopalians, or United Methodists—go to Jesus and ask, “What must our congregations do to have life—real, vibrant life?”
Jesus looks at them and says, “Come on! You’ve attended Sunday School all your lives! What do the scriptures say?”
All of the church leaders quickly huddle together—trying to piece together the various Sunday School lessons they’ve heard over the years—and answer: “We should love the Lord God with all our hearts, with all our souls, with all our strength, and all our mind; and we should love our neighbor as ourselves.
Then, doing his best imitation of Regis Philben, Jesus asks, “Is that your final answer?”
“Yes!” they said, “Final answer.”
“Wow! I’m pleasantly surprised! That’s a really good answer,” said Jesus. “If you do this, your congregations will pulse with life.”
But the congregational leaders, having just spent three years on a mission statement and an additional year and a half developing a long-range strategic plan, want to justify their efforts. And so they turn to Jesus.
“Jesus, these are tough times for churches. Finances are tight. Volunteers are getting harder and harder to come by. We only have limited resources, so, who is our neighbor anyway?”
So Jesus loads them onto one of their church buses and takes them on a tour of the city.
He takes them by one of the school yards and wonders out loud how many of the children have books at home—or anyone to sit down and help them with their homework.
He reminds them that many of the kids who eat breakfast and lunch at the schools have little to eat during weekends.
He asks them if they know that much of the early experimentation by young adolescents with sex and drugs takes place in the afternoons when parents are at work.
He drives by the city jail and asks what it must feel like to be warehoused with little to really occupy your time.
A few blocks later, he points out a guy living under one of the bridges and a cluster of others living in a small tent city over in a copse of trees.
He shows them spots where the homeless hide their belongings because they get tired of having to carry their belongings with them all day.
He shows them houses where the porches are rotting and the wind nearly blows through the walls.
But then, after about an hour, he takes them to a little store-front church that provides a small after-school program, serves breakfast to about twenty kids every Saturday, offers a Parents Anonymous group, provides space for a small community garden, and is working on the neighborhood rat problem.
“Tell me,” Jesus asked, “where did you see mercy at its most heartfelt and courageous? Who did you see being neighbor to those around them?”
All of the congregational leaders suddenly became very uncomfortable and begin looking down at their shoes.
“If you are really serious about finding life, then go and do likewise.”
But the congregational leaders were a little ambivalent because, well, you know, they had worked so hard on their mission statement and their strategic plan had already gone to the printer and . . .
Gary Robbins is the pastor of Greene Memorial United Methodist Church in downtown Roanoke. Visit them on the web at: www.gmumc.org.
