A neighbor is…
In our gospel lesson today, Jesus shows himself to be the good Rabbi that he is in responding to the lawyer’s questions without giving a direct answer. He makes him work for the answers. In response to his first question, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus invites the lawyer to answer for himself based on what he already knows. And in response to his second question, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus tells him a story. But even with that story, Jesus does not answer the question of who is a neighbor, but shifts the focus instead to the question of how to be a neighbor. In asking the lawyer which of the three was a neighbor to the man who had been beaten, Jesus’ focus is on action, not on identity. It’s as if he is saying, don’t bother with the question of who is your neighbor, but in following the command, love your neighbor as yourself, think instead of your own actions, of how to be a neighbor. The lawyer gives a very powerful answer, he says it is the one who shows mercy. A neighbor is one who shows mercy.
I’d like us to think a little more about what that means. The lawyer clearly knows the commandments that call us to love, love God and love our neighbor, but in asking for more clarification he might have been doing what many of us find ourselves doing with this commandment to love. We hear so much about love that we can take for granted what that means, we may even minimize its importance because we hear it so much and think, surely there’s more to it than that. The way of eternal life can’t be as simple as that. It can’t only be about love. In responding that the neighbor is the one who showed mercy, the lawyer may be noticing that love is not as simple as we think it is. Love means showing mercy. Mercy isn’t only a feeling, it’s a feeling that drives one to take action. The Greek word that is used for mercy in this story is splanchnizomai and it is a powerful word. This word is used only 12 times in all of the New Testament. It is used in the parable of the prodigal son to describe the action of his father, in the parable of the master who forgives the astronomical debt of his servant, here in the parable of the Good Samaritan, and 9 other times to describe actions taken by Jesus, such as when he responds to the crowds gathering around him for healing. Its definition is: to feel such compassion as to be moved to extraordinary action. It is a feeling that comes from deep within us, related as it is to the Greek word splanchna, literally meaning bowels, a feeling so strong that we must act. The Samaritan “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.' Extraordinary action, indeed.
Jesus says, “go, and do likewise.” His point would have been even more strongly made by making the Samaritan the one whose example we should follow. Samaritans were held in such low regard that the lawyer couldn’t even use this word to refer to him, calling him only “the one who showed mercy.” His actions were all the more extraordinary, assuming the man who had been beaten was Jewish, because he was so moved to take care of him despite the fact that this man probably despised the Samaritan, reviled him. Yet he cared for him anyway. If he could do this, then why did the priest and Levite make such a different choice? Why didn’t they do something to help the man? You may have heard before that this has to do with ritual purity, with admonitions against touching a dead body. This interpretation often shows up in commentary about this passage. But Jewish scholars argue against this, noting that respectful treatment of the dead would have made allowances for a priest to become unclean because of a neglected corpse. They would point out also, that Levites were not forbidden from contact with corpses, and also note that purity was only relevant if the priest were going to participate in the Temple service, but this passage states they were coming “down from” Jerusalem, not moving toward it, in other words, away from the Temple. It should also be noted that the man was left “half dead.” This wasn’t even a dead body that they were avoiding.
I think that interpretations that stress ritual purity are not only a matter of misunderstanding the culture, I think they also serve the purpose of protecting us from seeing ourselves in the person of the priest or the Levite. Since we can write off their choice as related to cultural precepts we don’t follow, we often look right past them, assuming we would not do the same. The story becomes richer if we take this explanation off the table, we may find ourselves relating to them better and thinking then of the times that we have followed their example rather than the Samaritan’s. Why didn’t they stop? Why don’t we stop?
Many years ago, in 1973, there was a study done with seminary students at Princeton University. It’s often referred to as “the Good Samaritan Study” but when it was originally published its title was “From Jerusalem to Jericho.” In the study, there were two groups of seminary students, students in one group were asked to give a speech about the Good Samaritan, those in the other group about a non-helping related topic. Some of the students were told that they were running late and needed to get to the building where they were to deliver their speech quickly, others were told they had lots of time. On their way to the building, they passed by a shabbily dressed man, slumped on the side of the road, clearly in distress. The question the study was looking to answer was, who would stop to help? Only 10% of the students in the hurried category stopped to offer help; 63% of students who were told they had lots of time stopped to help. The topic of their speech had no effect on their choice to stop or not.
Perhaps the priest and the Levite didn’t stop because they were in a hurry. That’s a very relatable explanation. But when we’re wondering about motivations for this type of behavior, that’s clearly not the whole story because only 63% of those who weren’t in a hurry stopped to help. There is more going on. This response is so human, and in fact, in social psychology research, the question of why people don't stop to help is well studied and there are many other explanations proposed. A common one is the assumption that someone else will help. The road from Jerusalem to Jericho was well traveled, so maybe this was also a part of the priest’s and Levite’s thinking. They thought someone else would come along. We also know that particular road can be treacherous and dangerous in places, maybe they didn’t stop because they were afraid, either not trusting that the man was actually in distress or afraid of becoming victims of the same robbers who attacked him and left him in the road. Not having the time, being afraid, assuming someone else will do it, these are all very relatable reasons for not stopping to help. I can see myself in all of these.
But I also find myself thinking about what I am hearing people say about how they are feeling about the state of our world today, and I hear many talk about feeling despair, or hopelessness, some also talk of fearing they are desensitized to the pain around us as they see news day after day of horrible suffering. Despair, hopelessness, and desensitization are not feelings that drive us to extraordinary action, they are feelings that draw us inward, that cut us off from those around us, those who could help us as much as those who could use our help. And as real as those feelings are, we cannot allow them to get in our way, because that is not who God calls us to be, that will not allow us to love our neighbor, and that does not bring us life. While it is possible that the priest and Levite did not stop to help the man because they were in a hurry, or afraid, or assumed someone else would stop, or because they were in despair, or feeling hopeless, or desensitized to the pain around them, the point is that the very same thing could be said about the Samaritan. Even more so, because he was Samaritan. Yet he did it anyway. Do it anyway is Jesus’ message. Go and do likewise. Worry less about who is our neighbor, and go out and be a neighbor.