Cynthia Coffman was born here in Saint Louis in 1962. When she was 24 years old she met James Marlow, who had been recently released from prison. He went by the nickname, “The Folsom Wolf.” An attorney would later say, “They were two flaky sociopaths separately, but you put them together and it was like Bonnie and Clyde all the way.”
Within weeks of meeting they were gallivanting across the country together. They got married atop a Harley-Davidson motorcycle in a “biker wedding.” And then the crimes started. On November 14, 1986 they were arrested and charged with kidnapping and killing four women, which Cynthia confessed to. Three years later, in 1989, they were convicted of the first murder charge and both were sentenced to death in the state of California.
That was thirty-seven years ago today. And guess what? Both are still alive. They’re sitting in prison. The sentence hasn’t changed. They’re still under the death penalty. Cynthia is 64 years old now. I guess maybe death by old age?
No matter what your opinions are on how we use the death penalty, I think we can probably all agree that this situation is not a very good way to handle this. This isn’t really mercy. And it’s not really justice. It makes you wonder, “What does a person have to do to die?”
In our Gospel for today from Luke 10 a man asked Jesus, “What must I do to live?” Death is coming for all of us eventually, for the criminal, and for the good people, the shining beacons of humanity. But what do I need to do to inherit eternal life? What must I do to live?
Luke tells us
An expert in the law stood up to test Jesus, saying, “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
26“What is written in the law?” he asked him. “What do you read there?”
27He replied, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind; and, love your neighbor as yourself.”
28He said to him, “You have answered correctly. Do this, and you will live.”
Luke says that this man was testing Jesus. This wasn’t an honest question where he wanted to know the answer. Most likely he was planning to attack Jesus for how much time he spent associating with sinners. These are people who have not kept God’s law. They have not lived righteous lives. They fully deserve the penalty of death. Jesus ought to know that as well, and he ought to treat them as such.
If he thought that Jesus would be wishy-washy on the law, he was mistaken. Jesus didn’t say, “Well, these people aren’t all so bad.” In fact, he let this expert in the law answer his own question. “What does the law say?” And the man replied with all confidence, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind; and, love your neighbor as yourself.”
And Jesus didn’t disagree. He didn’t argue or make excuses for the sins of the people he spent time with. He simply said, “You have answered correctly. Do this, and you will live.”
It’s not really all that complicated, is it? If you want to do everything that God requires to be a good and righteous and holy person and earn for yourself eternal life, this isn’t something that is hard to understand. A little child can learn this. It’s not hard to understand. But it is hard to do.
Out there in the world there are all those criminals. There are murderers who deserve to be on death row. There are people who are robbers and cheats and scoundrels. Yes, those people don’t deserve to inherit eternal life.
But neither do I.
I think the bluntness of Jesus’ answer took that expert in the law off guard. And the reason that I think that is because it catches me too, even though I know it’s coming, no matter how many times I read these words. In my heart I start to list all the good things about me and, well, I’m not perfect, but I’m not too far off. “What else do I need to do, Jesus to inherit eternal life?” And Jesus simply points to the law. Love the Lord your God. Love your neighbor as yourself. And he says, “Do this and you will live.”
It’s not about how many times you’ve gone to church. It’s not about how much money you give. It’s not saying the Lord’s Prayer three times a day. There is no checklist because the list is simply that. Love God. Love your neighbor. Do this and you will live.
This expert in the law realized right away that there was a problem here. They had all sorts of checklists and counts, things like how many steps you could walk on the Sabbath before it counted as work. But how do you count loving your neighbor? First of all, who even is my neighbor? That’s what he asked, and Jesus responded by telling the parable of the Good Samaritan.
A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho. He fell among robbers who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead.
Jericho is about 17 miles from Jerusalem, and it was a common day’s journey away for travelers. Many of the people in Israel made this trip regularly when they traveled to and from the temple for the different festivals. And traveling could be dangerous, especially if you were by yourself. Robbers might wait in ambush for unsuspecting travelers who couldn’t defend themselves. When it happened to this man he was as good as dead.
Ah, but here comes a priest! Who better to help this man than someone like this, a servant of God! But when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. He pretended not to see him. He wasn’t going to risk his life. And he had important things to do. Things that involved serving God, probably. After all, which commandment says, “Thou shalt pick up a stranger who’s dying on the side of the road?” Especially when, obviously, there are robbers around!
A Levite also came down the road. The Levites were from the tribe of Levi and were set apart as the teachers of Israel. This should be a spiritual kind of person, right? But he did the same as the priest.
Finally a Samaritan came down the road. The Jews and the Samaritans had a hatred for each other that went back five hundred years. There’s no way this guy would lift a finger to do anything. But Jesus said,
When he saw him, he felt sorry for the man. 34He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring oil and wine on them. He put him on his own animal, took him to an inn, and took care of him. 35The next day, when he left, he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him. Whatever extra you spend, I will repay you when I return.’
It was the unlikeliest of help, but it was also help that went above and beyond. No one else was watching. He could have walked by. But not only did he risk his own life to help this man, he also used his own supplies to patch him up. And instead of riding he put the wounded man on his animal and walked. He paid for the inn and he even promised to pay for any additional expenses.
So Jesus asked the expert in the law
Which of these three do you think acted like a neighbor to the man who fell among robbers?
You can’t make a list of your neighbors and say, “I only have to love those people to keep God’s law.” No, your neighbors are all the people God places in your life, all the people he gives you opportunity to serve. Some of those people you know well. Some of those people you will meet in their greatest need.
“Go and do likewise,” Jesus said, and if we look at these words as the answer to how we must live if we’re going to earn life for ourselves then they are terrifying words. How can we possibly love every neighbor, even complete strangers, as much as we love ourselves? We can’t. And if we can’t, the sentence from God is no different from all the worst criminals of this world, the sentence is death.
But there’s more to Jesus’ words than that. Because Jesus didn’t need to be born into the world to tell us that we deserve to die. He came into the world for people who were already dying, who shouldn’t expect him to lift a finger to help us, but like the Good Samaritan he came to rescue us from death and give us life.
It’s a beautiful picture, then, isn’t it? That’s me being carefully pulled out of the ditch. That’s me, whose wounds are washed and bandaged. That’s me placed on the animal while Jesus humbles himself to walk in my place. That’s for me that he’s purchased a room, “not with gold or silver, but with his holy, precious blood, and with his innocent suffering and death.”
The question for us then isn’t really, “Who is my neighbor?” but “How can I be a neighbor?” We were on death row, but Jesus suffered our death for us. Our sins are forgiven. We are truly free. What better use for our freedom is there than to be Good Samaritans to all our neighbors?
I know what I’ve done to deserve death. But how blessed we are to have seen what Jesus has done to bring us life! He came into this world for even the worst of sinners, so that you may have forgiveness, and life, and salvation in his name. Amen.
— Pastor Seth Georgson