Who is my neighbor? This question, uttered centuries ago, provoked an answer from Jesus that is perhaps the most well-known parable in all the gospels. Any good church-goer worth his or her salt knows this story up and down, backwards and forwards. Even people who don’t go to church often probably know the story of the Good Samaritan. And so for centuries, we’ve had the answer to the question— who is my neighbor? Jesus lays it out for us in no uncertain terms. One would think, after so many hundreds of years of practice at this thing called Christianity, we would have it down. And yet, the last 2000 years of church history have been filled with violence, religious bigotry, racism, sexism, inquisitions and crusades… I could go on and on, but I think you get the point. Oftentimes, the church doesn’t seem to act very neighborly.
I think that perhaps part of the problem with a parable as famous as this one, is that our familiarity with it lends to a certain degree of dismissiveness about it. We don’t feel the need to wrestle with this story like some of the other parables, which are admittedly harder to understand. We take it for granted that we know everything there is to know about this parable. After all, it’s the story of the Good Samaritan-- it’s simple, right?
Well, it may be a simple message that Jesus is giving us this morning, but it certainly is not an easy one. And unfortunately, over the years, our familiarity has transformed this story from the radical message it once was, to a somewhat simplistic and superficial exhortation to be nice. The term Good Samaritan has become commonly understood in our culture as someone who comes to the aid of another— so much so that the term can be understood even by someone who has never gone to church. In many cities, for example, the local Good Samaritan home is probably a shelter for the homeless or disabled. Good Samaritan programs across the country are known for giving out free meals and clothing. Now there is certainly nothing wrong with the idea that we should all strive to be these kinds of Good Samaritans-- helping out those in need when we meet them on the road, or see them in our communities. Indeed it is essential that we do this kind of work, for that is the very work of the church, to be the body of Christ in the world. However, if we stop there in our understanding of this parable, we miss out on the fact that this story, as told by Jesus in the Gospel of Luke, would actually have been quite shocking to his listeners, and intensely challenging to the religious authorities and status quo of his day. To understand why Jesus’ answer would have been so shocking, one has to put oneself in the context of first century Judaism in Palestine. When we do this, we begin to understand the story a little differently.
In the opening lines of the passage for today, we read that the lawyer, after having confirmed that the most important thing he could do to receive eternal life would be to love God and love his neighbor as himself, feels the need to take the dialogue one step further: “But he, wanting to justify himself, said unto Jesus, and who is my neighbor?” In asking Jesus this question, I don’t think that the man was necessarily engaging in friendly debate. Many biblical commentators argue that at this point, the man is testing Jesus— attempting to find out if Jesus would stick to the party line. For 1st century Israelites in Palestine, a neighbor was generally defined as someone who belonged to the Jewish community. The term did not extend to gentiles or Romans, and it most certainly did not apply to Samaritans.
Jesus’ answer to the lawyer, as is so often the case, does not stick to the party line. Rather, his answer revealed the question for what it really was— an attempt to get by with an exclusive understanding of what it means to love one’s neighbor. An attempt to draw lines and boundaries around who gets to be included in the kingdom of God. Jesus’ answer goes beyond a mere exhortation to kindness or charity. Had that been his aim, he could have just have easily had the third man on the road to Jericho have been a Jewish peasant or layperson. But his illustration of the Samaritan as the good neighbor would have shocked his listeners because of how just far Samaritans lay outside the boundaries of who Jews considered to be worthy of their respect.
So who were the Samaritans? Samaritans were a mixed-race people of Assyrian and Jewish blood. As such, they followed portions of Mosaic law, but not all of it. Therefore Jews saw them as defilers of pure religion, debasers of God’s law, idolatrous, and dangerous. Over the centuries, a deep rift had developed between these two ethnic groups. Jews had destroyed the Samaritan temple in Samaria— seeing it as a house of idolatry. Samaritans had retaliated by desecrating the Jewish temple-- scattering human bones in the most sacred places. Jews would publicly curse the Samaritans, and were sure of themselves in saying that the Samaritans had no share in eternal life-- no place in the kingdom of God. A long history of violence marked the relationship between these two groups. And so, the idea that the hero of Jesus’ parable would be a Samaritan would have been unthinkable to his audience. Part of the scandal of Jesus’ message in this parable is that the lawyer is forced to learn about genuine love of neighbor from someone he considers to be an enemy.
Perhaps a telling clue as to how uncomfortable this might have been for Jesus’ listeners comes at the end of today’s passage when Jesus concludes the parable and asks the lawyer: “which of the three men was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” The lawyer simply says, “the one who showed him mercy.” He could not even bring himself to utter the word Samaritan.
The lawyer’s question— who is my neighbor— was not so much a sincere inquiry into the depths of the greatest commandment. Rather, it was an attempt to justify himself and his fellow leaders within the comfortable social boundaries that they had put in place— boundaries that placed themselves above all others, and kept others out of the household of God.
But Jesus changed the rules of the game. His answer was a serious challenge to the lawyer, and in fact to the entire religious institution of his day. Jesus was reminding the religious authorities of his time of the words of the prophet Isaiah: that the temple is to be a house of prayer for all people, and that the kingdom of God is open to all who serve and love the Lord. The parable of the Good Samaritan illustrates that authentic love does not discriminate— and that oftentimes we learn about God’s love from the most unlikely people in the most unlikely circumstances. Furthermore, it teaches us that we don’t get to have a say in who gets excluded from the kingdom of God. It teaches us that genuine love of God and neighbor does not tolerate boundaries that exclude others or keep people from the love of God.
Many sermons on this text ask us to imagine ourselves as one of the characters on the road to Jericho. Asking if we are more often like the priest or the Levite who passes by on the other side of the road. Or challenging us to be more like the Good Samaritan-- offering help to those who we find in need. Such exercises are helpful for awakening our conscience and making us aware of those who need compassion in our own lives and communities. However, this morning I want to suggest that we imagine ourselves in the place of the lawyer. To ask ourselves if there times when we place limits and boundaries on who is worthy of our love or compassion. Are there times when we place limits on who is worthy to be treated as a neighbor? I believe that this story challenges us to ask ourselves: who are our modern day Samaritans? Who are those in our communities or in the wider society whom we caricature in negative ways— leading us to believe that God’s love and light is not to be found in them?
If we take a step back and look at things on a broader level— it would seem that there is no shortage of examples of places where this kind of radical love of neighbor is in short supply. On the global scene, for example, relations between Christians, Muslims, and Jews remain strained in many parts of the world— despite the fact that the dual command to love God and neighbor is common to all three faiths. In our own country, following 9/11, many Christian succumbed to the politics of hate and fear, believing that anyone who followed the path of Islam was devoid of any goodness or humanity. Such fear based beliefs were evidenced in the fact that there was a dramatic rise in the number of hate crimes perpetrated against Muslims in America. Even now, almost eight years later, there remains much misunderstanding about the religion and those who practice it.
Interfaith relations is not the only place where we need to consider the impact of our deeply help prejudices towards those who are different. Long held prejudices remain in place towards members of the LGBT community, and despite all of our progress, race relations still have a long way to go. There is growing anger and bitterness towards immigrant communities in our country, and there certainly seems to be no shortage of animosity between people of differing political parties. Sometimes I think that if only there could be a revolution of radical neighbor love in Washington DC, perhaps our leaders could stop fighting amongst themselves and begin working towards solutions to some of the most pressing problems of our country.
I could go on and go, and I’m sure that all of you could name a number of examples of your own. But behind all of these examples, ultimately, it comes back to us. It comes back to you and me, and our own individual lives. Where in our own lives, our own relationships, families, or communities, do we need to infuse a little more radical love? Because at the end of the day, that’s where it starts-- with each one of us-- here and now.
The parable of the Good Samaritan challenges us to imagine that genuine goodness, morality, and love of neighbor, cannot be restricted to any one group of people. I believe that in order to fully live into our call to love God and neighbor, we cannot let the fear of those who are different from us blind us to the fact that they too are beloved children of God. And though we have many differences, the things that bind us together are infinitely more profound than the things that keep us apart.
Are we willing to take the risk of following the Samaritan into a love that has no boundaries-- no exceptions? Are we willing to take the risk of practicing a gospel of radical love and inclusion-- even if others might perceive such an action as scandalous?
This work of radical love is hard work, for it forces us out of our comfort zones. But I believe it is necessary work, for our love for God is inextricably tied to our love of neighbor. It is work that begins within each of us. Within our own hearts and minds. The work continues as we reach out to others-- especially those who are different-- especially those with whom we disagree, and especially those from whom we would most wish to keep our distance. Because in Christ, there is no east or west, no north or south. In Christ there is no Jew nor Greek, male or female. There is no black, white, red, or yellow. There is only Christ— and the Spirit of love and reconciliation that draws all of us together-- unified in the midst all of our wonderful diversity!
