Curved Inward: How Paganism Blinds Us To Our Neighbor

Text: Luke 10:23-37

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Picture the scene: a man beaten, stripped, and left half-dead on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho. He is helpless. He cannot save himself. He is in desperate need of mercy. And then comes a temple priest — a religious man, one who should have known the Law of God. He sees the half-dead man, but instead of drawing near to help, he distances himself. He passes by on the other side. Next comes a Levite — a temple servant. He, too, looks and then deliberately avoids the man in the ditch.

In other words, both the priest and the Levite fail to see the wounded man as a neighbor. They fail to see him as a fellow human in need. Instead, they turn inward. They walk away. 

Now, dear friends, this is not just a story about two men in ancient robes. This is a story about you and me. The priest and Levite represent what happens when sin curves us inward. 

As Luther once put it, homo incurvatus in se — man curved in on himself. You see, when sin has its way, we become obsessed with self-preservation, self-interest, and self-importance. And when that happens, our neighbors vanish from our view. Their pain no longer matters. Their dignity no longer registers. 

Furthermore, this same inward focus is not confined to individual hearts; it is rising in our culture right now. Let me explain… As Christianity declines in America, we are not becoming more “neutral.” No, we are becoming more pagan. And what is paganism? It is nothing new. It is as old as Babylon and Assyria. It is not the worship of wooden statues or witch potions but the religion of self. It is the religion of power. It is an ideology where self-preservation trumps mercy, where pleasure and pride are the highest virtues. The prophets saw this in the Old Testament and called it out: 

Bribed judges 

The oppression of the poor 

Glorified violence 

Predatory leaders, 

Moral relativism 

Mockery of the sacred 

And sexual selfishness 

If you open your eyes, you will see the same thing right now. This paganism is spreading in America – it is even right here in Minot. 

To be clear, this Paganism is the opposite of Christianity. It is not about loving a neighbor. Instead, Paganism doesn’t even see a fellow human in the ditch. Paganism sees only the self — what benefits me, what preserves me, what advances me. So, understand this: as paganism rises, you and I must get used to seeing more heartless priests and Levites in our world. We must get used to seeing people who will pass by human suffering with apathy.  We must get used to seeing more people who look at tragedy and either shrug or sneer.

Take, for example, the recent assassination of Charlie Kirk. Now, I am not interested in making political points. Whether you agree with Charlie Kirk’s politics or not is beside the point. Instead, consider the response by many in our culture after Charlie was shot and murdered in the daylight. Some people celebrated his death. There were voices on social media of people who said, 

“Good. He deserved it.” 

Now, dear friends, this is paganism on display. When the value of a human life is determined by whether we agree with their politics, when we can celebrate the suffering of another human being, we are no longer dealing with Christianity but with dehumanization – with paganism.

And so, sit up in your pew and listen!  We must be clear. The true enemy in our culture is not our political opponents. It is not flesh and blood. Scripture tells us that the real battle is against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of darkness. The enemy is the ideology of paganism itself — the religion of self, the curve inward, the spirit that blinds people to their neighbors. Mark this: this emerging Paganism is an ideology that is seeping into our culture and into hearts. It is twisting Americans so that they no longer see other people as neighbors but as enemies… as obstacles… as disposable.

Dear friends, please listen! The problem with the Levite and the priest was not simply that they were busy. It was not that they had weak stomachs. Their problem was that they did not see the man in the ditch as a neighbor. And that is what paganism does, it refuses to see fellow human beings as persons who were knit together by God in the wombs of their mothers.  Paganism sees only categories: friend or enemy, useful or useless, ally or obstacle. And once we stop seeing people as neighbors, we can justify anything. We can justify walking by on the other side. We can justify neglect. We can even justify laughing and celebrating their assassination.  Lord, have mercy!  

But Christianity is the exact opposite of this. Christianity does not curve you and me inward. Christianity does not dismiss the man in the ditch. Listen carefully: even though we Christians are called to be wise in this world and to avoid bad company – to not walk in the counsel of the wicked - we Christians, though, never rejoice at the death of our enemies. Simply stated, we serve our neighbor in love while guarding ourselves from their sin.   

But why? 

Because Christianity sees life through the cross of Christ, and through the cross, every human being — friend or foe, ally or enemy — is someone for whom Christ died. 

Think about that. 

The coworker who despises you? Christ died for them. 

The neighbor who mocks your faith? Christ shed His blood for them. 

The political figure you can’t stand? Jesus bore their sins on the cross. 

Even those who persecute the church are not beyond the scope of Christ’s sacrifice.

This is why Christianity cannot embrace the way of the Levite and the priest. This is why Christianity is not the same as Paganism.  Every person is one for whom Christ poured out His life. And that brings us to the heart of the parable: who is the Good Samaritan? 

Not you. 

Indeed, not me. 

Not the lawyer who questioned Jesus. 

Not even the disciples. 

The Good Samaritan is Christ Himself.

Never forget, you and I were the ones left half-dead in the ditch of sin. We were beaten and stripped by the devil, the world, and our sinful flesh. We were helpless, unable to save ourselves. But Christ — the true Good Samaritan — drew near. His guts were moved with compassion. He did not pass by but stooped down into our ditch. He bound up our wounds with His Word. He poured on the oil of Baptism and the wine of His blood. He carried us to the inn of His Church, where He continually cares for us with forgiveness, life, and salvation. 

So what does this mean for you and me? 

Baptized Saints, it means that we do not have the luxury of defining who our neighbor is. Your neighbor is not just those who agree with you, who look like you, who vote like you. Your neighbor is anyone whom God places in your path — especially those in need. 

Secondly, we should also be wise to know that paganism is on the rise. It should not surprise us when the world curves inward to celebrate violence, to mock Christianity, and to laugh at suffering. That is what happens when Christ is ignored and the self becomes god. But it also means that we do not respond in the same way. We do not become Levites and priests ourselves. We do not let paganism shape us. We do not rejoice in the death of our enemies. Because Christ has rescued us, we see differently. We see neighbors trapped in sin where the world sees enemies. Remember that Christianity is the opposite of Paganism. Where Paganism curves inward, Christianity looks outward. Where paganism rejoices in power, Christianity delights in mercy. Where paganism laughs at death, Christianity proclaims life in Christ.

And so, our task is not to be naïve or to despise but to confess. In this emerging Pagan culture, we point to the Good Samaritan. We point to Christ. We proclaim that there is another way, another kingdom, another hope. The priest and the Levite show us what happens when sin curves us inward. The emerging Paganism in our culture does the same.  But Christ, the Good Samaritan, shows us what it means to be turned outward. 

* * *

Baptized Saints, through the cross, Jesus has made you His neighbor. He has bound your wounds. He has carried you. He has paid your debt. And because of this, you are free — free to see others not as threats or enemies but as neighbors in need of mercy.

So, when you encounter those in the ditch — whether they are strangers, political opponents, or even enemies — you do not rejoice in their pain. You do not dehumanize them. Instead, you see them through the eyes of Christ, the One who died for all. 

In the name of Jesus – your Good Samaritan - Amen.