A Sermon Delivered by the Rev. Dr. Patrick H. Wrisley on July 13, 2025.

This morning, we are continuing in Luke chapter ten. Last week, we learned about setting our alarms for 10:02 each day as a reminder to pray for laborers to go into the harvest, inspired by Luke 10:2. Today, we pick up with the disciples returning from their journey, full of joy and stories of healing and hope. Jesus, seeing their excitement, says something profound in verse 23: “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see!” And that brings us to one of Jesus’ most familiar teachings—Luke 10:25–37.

Now I’ll be honest: I hesitated to preach this text. It’s so well-worn, so familiar. I wondered, “What could I possibly add that hasn’t been said a thousand times before?” But a wise older member of the church gave me a nudge: “It’s a story we need to hear again and again. Preach it!” So, with his voice in my head, I invite you to listen for God’s Word.

Luke 10:25–37

²⁵ Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” ²⁶ He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” ²⁷ He answered, “You shall 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 your neighbor as yourself.” ²⁸ And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.” 

²⁹ But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” ³⁰ Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. ³¹ Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. ³² So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. ³³ But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. ³⁴ He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. ³⁵ The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’ ³⁶ Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” ³⁷ He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”  (Luke 10:25–37, NRSV)

Scholar James Wallace asks, “When a parable becomes a cliché, can it still function in the life of the community?” He notes that “Good Samaritan” has become shorthand for “someone who helps.” But Wallace presses further; he asks, “Is that all Jesus meant? Just “be helpful” or “feel guilty when you don’t stop for a homeless person?”^[1] I suggest the answer is a resounding “no!”  

This parable isn’t designed to make us feel guilty—it’s meant to hold up a mirror. It asks us to assess the coordinates of our spiritual GPS.^[2] Is our heart tuned to mercy? Is our life pointed toward compassion?

If we are really honest, I would venture to guess that most of us hear this story and assume we’d be like the Samaritan. Surely, we wouldn’t cross to the other side of the road like those religious leaders! We tell ourselves, “I would stop. I wouldn’t look away. I’d be the one to help!”  

But…would we really act any differently?

Years ago, a group of researchers at Princeton Seminary decided to test that very question. They brought in seminary students—young people preparing for ministry—and gave them a simple assignment: go give a short talk across campus. Some were asked to speak about their career plans. Others were asked to speak about—you guessed it—the Good Samaritan. But before they left to fulfill their assignment, a proctor waiting with the students told each seminarian one of three things:

 “You are late! They’re waiting—get going!”

 “You are right on time. Head over now.”

 “You have a few minutes to spare but go ahead and walk over.”

As the students crossed campus, they had to pass a man slumped in a doorway—an actor pretending to be sick and injured. He moaned and coughed, just enough to draw attention. What would the students do? Here’s what happened:

Only 10% of those students who were told they’re running late stopped to check on the man.

Just 45% of the “you’re on time” students did.

Of those students who were told there was no rush to get to the appointment, only 63% stopped to give care.^[3]

It wasn’t their theology that determined their compassion—it was their schedule. They didn’t fail the exercise because they were cold-hearted per se (although the numbers could point that way). The study demonstrated the students failed to provide care because they felt pressed for time.

Friends, does that sound familiar? Can you relate with that? Doesn’t that describe us?

Like the students, we are not bad people; we’re just busy. Too busy to notice. Too busy to stop. Too busy to care. If I were to create a bumper sticker for modern life, it might say: “Too Busy to Care.”

And here’s where the Butterfly Effect comes in. You may have heard of it—a term from chaos theory that says a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil can set off a tornado in Kansas. In other words, small, seemingly insignificant actions can create far-reaching, transformative effects.^[4]

The Samaritan’s act wasn’t grandiose. It was practical. It was messy. It was inconvenient. But it is an event described that rippled through time, didn’t it? Here we are, 2,000 years later, still being moved by a Story that describes one small act of mercy on a dusty road.

The Butterfly Effect is real—and we see it all around us:

A teacher who speaks a kind word to a discouraged student—and that student, years later, becomes a teacher who inspires hundreds.

A neighbor who brings soup to someone recovering from surgery—and that small act restores their faith in humanity.

A church member who notices a visitor and says, “Come sit with me”—and that moment changes the visitor’s whole perception of church.

We never know what our small acts of compassion and kindness will do.

The truth is that small choices make big impacts in peoples’ lives. Simple gestures plant deep seeds. Quiet kindness reshapes souls.

So, before we toss the priest and the Levite under the bus for being uncaring, maybe we should take an honest look in the mirror. Are we walking past people in need because we’re too distracted, too rushed, too numb to the needs of others? Are we missing the chance to show mercy because we’ve convinced ourselves we have “more important” things to do?

Jesus told us this parable to reorient us. He told it to help us calibrate our spiritual GPS not to efficiency or obligation—but to love.

And here’s the good news: we don’t need to change the world today. We just need to stop long enough to see the one lying in the road. Just stop. Just notice. Simply offer what we can with what we have. That’s the moment the Butterfly Effect begins.

As the infamous 1980’s philosopher, Ferris Bueller once said, 

Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you might miss it.

Author Kurt Vonnegut put it this way:  

Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. You’ve got about a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of: You’ve got to be kind.^[5]

So beloved, let’s rip off the bumper sticker that says “Too Busy to Care.” Let’s slow down, see who’s in front of us, and make a promise to act with kindness—no matter how small. You never know what a little mercy might set in motion. Amen.

© 2025 by Patrick H. Wrisley. Sermon manuscripts are available for the edification of members and friends of First Presbyterian Church of Glens Falls, 8 West Notre Dame Street, Glens Falls, NY 12801 and shall not be altered, re-purposed, published or preached without permission.   All rights reserved.

^[1] Bartlett, David L.; Barbara Brown Taylor. Feasting on the Word: Year C, Volume 3: Pentecost and Season after Pentecost 1 (Propers 3-16) JAMES A. WALLACE, C.SS.R.,  (Kindle Locations 8806-8809). Presbyterian Publishing Corporation. Kindle Edition.

^[2] Ibid.

^[3] Nagesh Belludi,  Lessons from the Princeton Seminary Experiment: People in a Rush are Less Likely to Help Others (and Themselves), June 16, 2015 from the blog “Right Attitudes. Ideas for Impact” accessed on July 10, 2019 at https://www.rightattitudes.com/2015/06/16/people-in-a-rush-are-less-likely-to-help-themselves/.

^[4] See https://thedecisionlab.com/reference-guide/economics/the-butterfly-effect.

^[5] Bartlett, David L.; Barbara Brown Taylor. Feasting on the Word: Year C, Volume 3: Pentecost and Season after Pentecost 1(Propers 3-16), by Douglas John Hall (Kindle Locations 8689-8690). Presbyterian Publishing Corporation. Kindle Edition. Vonnegut’s original quote says, “Goddammit, Joe, you’ve got to be kind!” I edited the saying in light of using this in the context of worship.