Love Thy Neighbor (Reflections on Pentecost 5, Year C)

I am on vacation this week, so I won't be posting a reflection piece for Pentecost 4. Please see the Featured Post at right for commentary on that week's lesson. OG

"Paraable of The Good Samaritan" Balthesar van Cortbemde (Flemish, 1647)

“No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe.” (Deuteronomy 30:14)

I was raised by politically conservative parents. Yup. Mom and Dad were folks who believed it was better to have too little government than too much. I’m not really sure how my dad came to be a conservative—and he made Archie Bunker look like a moderate—but I think it might’ve started as a reaction against his dictatorial and ultra-liberal Cornish grandfather. My great grandad loved the fact that his adopted country gave women the vote. He could line his daughters up and tell them exactly how they, as obedient and subservient children, should cast their ballots. I think my dad became a conservative just to spite the old geezer. That, or his post-combat experience in Germany after World War II gave him a deep distrust of the Soviet Union and anything even remotely connected to it—like socialism.

My mom was a different story. She was logical to the core. I remember her asking, “Why should I pay taxes to protect someone else from the consequences of their own stupidity?” Mother believed that you earned what you got, and if you didn’t get it, you didn’t earn it. I’ll admit, she had a point.

It’s that point, however, that gets put to the test by the Gospel lesson for Pentecost 5, Year C (Luke 10:25-37), the famous parable of the Good Samaritan. Jesus and the Law of Moses referenced in this passage tell us unambiguously that we are to love our neighbor. So what does the lawyer in the story do? He asks Jesus to define neighbor. I mean, you wouldn’t want to accidentally love someone who wasn’t entitled to that love, now would you?

The priest and the Levite (a temple assistant) who each encountered the wounded, bloody victim of the assault didn’t stop to help him. Possibly they feared that the violent assailants might still be hiding around the next rock or something. Or, perhaps, being religiously observant men, they chose not to touch the injured man out of fear of contaminating themselves with his icky blood. We might even suspect that they felt no obligation to help this poor soul because traveling was dangerous and the guy should’ve known better than to be going from Jerusalem to Jericho by himself. They might’ve blamed the victim. It was his own fault for getting mugged and rolled, the dumb jerk!

What is crystal-freaking-clear in the passage, however, is Jesus’ belief that neighborliness—the obligation to be merciful—crosses the borders of nationality, race, and religion. Who is my neighbor? The one who shows me mercy like the heretic Samaritan in the parable. “Go and do likewise,” Jesus says to the lawyer. And he didn’t stutter.

Why provide healthcare for the indigent? Because the poor are our neighbors. Why welcome the asylum seekers? Because the refugees and the persecuted are our neighbors. Why provide quality public education for all? Because the children are our neighbors. Why send food supplies and medical aid around the globe? Because the oppressed are our neighbors. Why does my congregation grow vegetables on our lawn for the poor and sleep homeless people in our basement? Because they’re our neighbors.

The Bible enjoins us to practice a compassionate generosity. Yes, I’ll admit it is possible to be too merciful and turn compassion into enabling. I’ll even go farther and confess that there are some unscrupulous folks who will take advantage of the generosity of others. But I don’t really care. I think the principle we need to follow as Christians in our public life is to love our neighbors without qualifications. For my money, it’s far worse to do too little than to do too much. Besides, if we were really to ask the question of worthiness, would any of us sinners merit what we have?

The political question never really changes. It always boils down to this: What are the responsibilities and limitations of our government? We go back and forth with this in America all the time. But one thing doesn’t change: If we’re truly Christians, we must love our neighbor. We can debate the best way to do this as a society, but we cannot deny Christ’s command to do it.

Thanks, as always, for reading. Let me know what you think, okay?