Context is Everything

One of the great comedic opportunities of everyday life is overhearing someone, or being overheard, completely out of context. The possibilities are endless. 

As my wife and I sat in a restaurant one morning, she announced to me, at the precise moment our waitress happened by, “He didn’t sleep with me last night—I really hope he sleeps with me tonight.”

            The “I don’t think I was supposed to hear that,” amused-but-quizzical look that appeared on our waitress’s face made me laugh so hard I almost choked on my omelet. She didn’t realize my wife was talking about our cat, Otis.

            Context is everything.

            Another time, I passed by just as an irritated woman snapped into her cellphone, “What do you mean, ‘Is Kyle still in a coma?’ Kyle’s never been in a coma!’”

            I would love to know the context for that one.

            I thought about this recently as I tried to understand and appreciate some of the things Jesus said, because without context I often don’t do a very good job of either one.

            One of his best-known parables is the one about the good Samaritan. For years, I thought of it as a nice story about an unlikely hero. Then I learned a little about how the Jews Jesus was telling to story to really felt about Samaritans. There’s a long territorial and historical backdrop, but suffice it to say that most Jews thought Samaritans worshipped God wrong, were unskilled and uneducated, weren’t true Israelites, and were likely half-breeds, too. One of the worst insults a first-century Jew could hurl at someone was to call them a Samaritan (which the crowds later did to Jesus himself). Maybe the best analogy I can come up with is how many Americans today feel about members of Isis.

            So, Jesus hits the crowd with a story about some very upright priests and ministers who are too busy doing “important” things and so won’t stop to help a man in distress—but a Samaritan who goes above and beyond to show God’s love to a fellow human. The parable had to shock and offend his listeners. 

            It also underscores the completely radical way Jesus presents faith for his followers, something I often and easily lose in much of what he says and does.

            And if accepting and praising a filthy Samaritan wasn’t enough, Jesus goes here, too: No one actually enjoys paying taxes, but in Jesus’ day it was especially hated because of the people who served as tax collectors. The much-hated occupying Roman forces hired your friends and neighbors to collect your cash, and they made their living by gouging you. The Romans didn’t offer a salary and benefits package; tax collectors overcharged you and kept as much of your money as they could. As a result, most of them were wealthy, which further separated them from the general population. They weren’t just disliked because they were IRS agents, they were unanimously reviled as traitors, backstabbers and cheats. 

            So, Jesus makes a point of having meals with and befriending them and even invites one to join his most intimate band of disciples. Again, this had to be shocking and offensive to most everyone. Many of us have grown up thinking of Jesus as the ultimate nice guy, but “shocking and offensive” was often his M.O, as he made room for society’s worst outcasts and forced folks to rethink their lives. It’s a hard lesson, both for first-century types and for us.

            Just a few days ago, I heard a woman I know telling someone something about “exposing myself.” Turns out they were talking about COVID. Context is, indeed, everything.