Who is my neighbor? That’s the question that launches Jesus’ parable about a man beaten, robbed and nearly killed on the Jerusalem-Jericho road, and the person who helped him. The lawyer asking the question wondered what neighbors he was supposed to help. Jesus delivered a twist in his answer: it’s not so much who you are to be neighbor to, as what kind of neighbor you are. “Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” The neighbor is the one who sees, stops, investigates, helps, and ensures restoration.
I believe the mission of God is to reclaim, restore and renew all of creation to wholeness in Christ. This is what we see the Samaritan man do in Jesus’ story:
But a Samaritan while travelling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, “Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.”
Being a neighbor goes beyond taking in the mail or watering plants, beyond visiting the sick or texting a donation in times of natural disasters, beyond need-meeting to transformation. Being a neighbor means being there for the long haul, arranging for restoration of health, status and dignity. The Samaritan, most likely a merchant traveling to Jericho to market his goods, used his own oil and wine to heal the wounds (oil is a symbol of the Holy Spirit; wine the healing blood of Jesus…). He gave up his ride to the wounded man and walked alongside, his slower pace now putting him at greater risk of bandits himself. He brought the man to a place of hospitality for rest and recovery, paid for his care and arranged for the future. In so doing, he expanded the circle of healing and assured recompense for his co-laborers.
When have you experienced someone giving you that gift of unstinting love and care, going deep and long? When have you been moved to do that for someone else, maybe someone going through a loss or chemotherapy or a protracted life crisis? One of my parishioners began to visit a homeless man in a downtown park several times a week, developing a relationship, listening to his stories. He didn't want sandwiches; he wanted community. She was being a neighbor the way Jesus meant it.
I don’t think God wants us to go the extra mile with gritted teeth. God wants us to feel moved to offer it freely when we do. None of us can give like that to everyone – yet if more of us approached the world like this Samaritan man did, maybe everyone would be helped and everyone would be helping. I’d love to hear the story from the view of the man who was victimized, and then restored through the love of a perfect stranger. I wonder who he went on to help into wholeness?
I pray that you and I will often encounter – and be – perfect strangers of healing love.
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