What Must I Do?
Fifteenth Sunday Scripture Readings
Well, here we are, aren’t we? If we had any question about how God considers the behavior of our so-called religious and political “leaders,” we need look no further than this gospel reading. There’s a word that describes deliberate blindness, ignorance, and cruelty in the name of God. It’s no less than blasphemy. We describe that as ascribing moral evil to God. It’s said that the legislators of this country knelt and prayed before voting to pass into law a measure which could hardly be any more incompatible with Jesus’s message in this parable of the good Samaritan. On every score, when we analyze point-by-point the lessons Jesus was teaching his disciples, our representatives have taken the exact opposite position, and in Jesus’s name. It’s as though this passage had been excised from the so-called “Christian Nationalist” body of scripture. That must be the case, because otherwise, how could anyone read Jesus’s words and still embrace that blasphemous philosophy?
The lawyer asks, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” What is “eternal life,” after all, but an intimate communion with our timeless, eternal God and with those who likewise are in communion with God and with us? The question the lawyer poses is about salvation…but salvation from what? We need to be delivered from the dead end of selfish self-interest. Yet, there is no such thing as individual salvation, nor individual eternal life. We are all one body here in our spatiotemporal existence, and even more so in our existence beyond this world of limitations. Jean-Paul Sartre wrote, “L’enfer, c’est les autres.” Hell is other people. If that were true, all of Jesus’s disciples throughout history should be in hell. Rather, hell is isolation, because there is no heaven without others.
Let’s take a look at our parable now, shall we? Remember the question Jesus is answering: “Who is my neighbor whom I need to love as much as I love myself?” Jesus starts the story by introducing a character in need. He’s anonymous. What’s this person’s name? Where’s he from? What’s his religion? What’s his race? Is he even a good person? None of that is in the story. Why? Because none of it matters at all. None of those superficial characteristics is relevant to Jesus’s definition of my neighbor. The only criterion Jesus gives us to determine the identity of my neighbor is whether they’re in need or not. Jesus provides no litmus test for us to use to determine whether someone else is worthy of our assistance. If you want to know if the country you reside in is Christian, you need only look at what criteria it uses to determine eligibility for aid and assistance.
Now that we understand who my neighbor is, what limitations does Jesus place on the aid and assistance we are to provide? First of all, it doesn’t seem to matter who we are. The aid-giver in the story is a Samaritan. Those people were the remnants of the kingdom of Israel that was overrun by the Babylonians and who intermarried with them. They were cut off by race and their religious sect, which refused to accept the temple in Jerusalem as God’s exclusive home. They were ethnically and religiously impure according to the orthodox faith of Judaism. As a result, they were shunned. As heretics, they were considered worse than pagans. Yet this Samaritan, like all of us, was well-qualified to give aid and assistance. What’s more, unlike the orthodox religious authorities who passed by, the Samaritan was willing.
What assistance did he provide? It began with empathy. The man was “moved with compassion.” No empathy? No neighbor, no salvation. Out of his compassion, he “poured oil and wine over [the man’s] wounds and bandaged them.” The first order of business is always basic health care. It’s a primary consequence of empathy for human suffering and disability. Next, the Samaritan lifted his neighbor up, provided him with transportation to safety, and went out of his way to house him until he could get back up on his feet again. Providing shelter is a necessary consequence of empathy and compassion for a neighbor in need, without regard for their origins or identity…or our inconvenience.
Finally, the Samaritan gave instructions for the innkeeper to care for his neighbor. Doesn’t that include food and clothing as well as shelter? Up until now, all it cost the Samaritan was time and effort. But these other necessities cost money. What regard does Jesus suggest that we pay to the cost of caring for our neighbor? You’re right if you said none at all. If the cost in time, effort, or money exceeds what was anticipated, what should you do? Jesus says, like the Samaritan, Spend more.
But can’t assistance be wasted? Of course, it can, if it’s spent unwisely or on unnecessary goods and services. But it can never be spent unwisely on assisting a neighbor in need. Whether to consider that neighbor worthy of assistance or not never entered into Jesus’s mind, nor should it enter into ours. Yet, one person can never assist every neighbor in need. At that scale, we well understand that it must be a community effort. As I mentioned earlier, we are members of one body and not separate from our neighbors in need. It’s never “us” helping “them.” There is no “them.” There is only “us.” When a community chooses selfish hoarding of wealth, power, and prestige over the needs of its own neighbors, it has lost its humanity…and its soul.
“Which one…in your opinion, was neighbor to the…victim?” … “The one who treated him with mercy.” … “Go, and do likewise.”
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