Who is My Neighbor???

Luke 10:25-37 (NLT)

One day an expert in religious law stood up to test Jesus by asking him this question: “Teacher, what should I do to inherit eternal life?”

Jesus replied, “What does the law of Moses say? How do you read it?”

The man answered, “‘You must love the LORD your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your strength, and all your mind.’ And ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”

“Right!” Jesus told him. “Do this and you will live!”

The man wanted to justify his actions, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

Jesus replied with a story:

A Jewish man was traveling from Jerusalem down to Jericho, and he was attacked by bandits. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him up, and left him half dead beside the road. By chance a priest came along. But when he saw the man lying there, he crossed to the other side of the road and passed him by. A Temple assistant, [a Levite], walked over and looked at him lying there, but he also passed by on the other side.

Then a despised Samaritan came along, and when he saw the man, he felt compassion for him. Going over to him, the Samaritan soothed his wounds with olive oil and wine and bandaged them. Then he put the man on his own donkey and took him to an inn, where he took care of him. The next day he handed the innkeeper two silver coins, telling him, “Take care of this man. If his bill runs higher than this, I’ll pay you the next time I’m here.”

“Now which of these three would you say was a neighbor to the man who was attacked by bandits?” Jesus asked.

The man replied, “The one who showed him mercy.”
Then Jesus said, “Yes, now go and do the same.”

People Knew

People knew. That is perhaps the hardest pill to swallow. It was not carried out in secrecy, oh no, far from it. Everything was done in the bright light of day when every action was obvious to everyone. One day, a conspicuous, bright yellow star appeared on the clothing of some of their neighbors. Had you been there, you would have seen it yourself from blocks away. Yes, people saw. Shops that had conducted business for years suddenly ceased to exist. Buildings were closed and shuttered, and people knew.

Then the big, bright yellow stars began to disappear as the human beings forced to wear them were unceremoniously evicted from their family neighborhoods and packed into ghettos designed specifically for them. People knew. Eventually, those ghettos were systematically emptied. Their inhabitants were marched to the railway stations and herded onto cattle cars without the dignity of holding onto the most prized keepsakes or remembrances of their inheritance. These innocents were never to be seen again.

People Knew. People Saw.

One of the most uncomfortable issues to consider with respect to Adolf Hitler’s vile attempt to exterminate the Jewish population is that “decent, God-fearing” citizens of Germany were acutely aware of what was happening right in front of them. Every step was carried out publicly, brazenly flaunting the unspeakable, evil operation of the Nazi regime in the faces of their allegedly good and moral constituents.

The problem was not that all these witnesses were ignorant of what was going on. The problem was that all of them found a justifying reason to remain unresponsive to the plain horror they observed. They all found excuses worthy of their complacence inevitably leading to their complicity. Of course, they were concerned for those poor folks and undoubtedly filled with deep feelings of confusion and unease. They surely felt genuine sorrow as they beheld the proceedings.

However, feeling sorry and constructive response are not synonymous.

The Good Samaritan

Jesus told this parable to teach a man called “an expert in religious law” the definition of a neighbor. The focus of the story is first placed on a man of Israel who was in obvious and overwhelming need that he was unable to alleviate on his own. He had been severely beaten, robbed of all money and valuables, and left in a ditch beside the road to suffer and die alone. We are then told of three men who come upon the scene one at a time.

These men are from different classes of society as it was structured in those days, a priest, a Levite, and a Samaritan, but they shared some commonalties. All three possessed the wherewithal to provide a measure of care and comfort for the victim. All three shared at least one good reason to not only keep moving, but to move expeditiously. After all, the wicked perpetrators of this heinous deed might be lying in wait to repeat their crimes upon anyone foolish enough to stop and be distracted by offering aid.

The three were on the road to Jericho for their own separate reasons. Each of them had people to see and things to do. There was no pressure to delay their travel and inconvenience themselves because there were no witnesses to report their lack of pity and failure to provide relief. Who would know? The priest and Levite were no doubt also concerned with the complicated and countless rules of their distinct duties for service in the Temple. They could have given reason that the enormous hassle of compulsory ceremonial cleansing from blood or a dead body was hardly worth their attention to an unknown individual in a ditch.

We should note that this reasoning was without merit. Both were headed away from the temple in Jerusalem, not toward it, so no religious laws were immediately relevant. Also, Jesus made it clear by frequent miraculous demonstrations that hurting people take precedent over Temple by-laws, regulations, and traditions, as he healed the infirm and the frail on the Sabbath. However, both the priest and the Levite were satisfied with their self-justification and eased on down the road.

The remaining character, a Samaritan, had more reason than either of the two good, godly men who had gone before him to avoid the situation. He was a Samaritan, a man hated by the Jews because of his nationality. Because he was not a Jew, he had no responsibility to a man who would call him an enemy. Years of prejudice and politics were plenty to successfully discourage him from getting involved. The greatest insult would be the resentment of the victim himself upon finding out it had been a despised Samaritan who had helped him! The very notion of such a thing would be an insult to any good Jew.

Three men came upon a suffering, wounded soul with means to assist him, yet each of them could claim a “good excuse” to legitimize his individual decision to leave the scene of the crime unspoiled. Of course, every one of them held a modicum of concern for the poor creature beside the road, but the third man owned a quality that the pious priest and the religious representative both lacked. The Samaritan had compassion. Concern will allow us to feel sad or uncomfortable and yet, turn away. Compassion constrains us, because:

COMPASSION REQUIRES PERSONAL INVOLVEMENT.

Compassion Acts

The third man refused to employ excuses and ignore the casualty on the road. He could not shut out the questions of his heart asking, “If not me, then who?”, and “If not now, when?” Three men were faced with the same responsibility, but only one accepted his personal obligation to do the right thing for another human being simply because it was the right thing to do.

We see plenty of pain today, far more than we act upon. We see pain in our families, workplaces, churches, neighborhoods, and relationships. We know when someone is being treated unfairly, carrying more than they should, or beginning to unravel. We see. We know. We are concerned. But what do we do? What do spend or sacrifice for the discouraged, the despondent, and the disheartened?

Compassion Costs

It may very well cost physical resources at times, but will certainly demand payment in time, comfort, and convenience. It may cost granting forgiveness for wrongdoing but will certainly cost the plans you have made and the projects on your list.

You are not responsible for fixing everything. You are responsible for the measures you take with what you notice. There are needs you can never meet and burdens you were never meant to carry. However, Jesus continually challenges you to repudiate any instinct you possess to recognize suffering and just keep on walking.

Matthew 25:37-40 (ESV)

“Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’

And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’”

The Least of These

Let those three words sink in for a minute.

Jesus always moves toward the people that others move around. He stops for a person shouting from the gutter beside the road. He touches lepers. He sits at tables with people whose reputations make “decent folk” squeamish. He cares for those who, in their respective cultures, are categorized as interruptions, problems, aggravations, and annoyances.

A few years ago, the Holy Spirit challenged a church I was serving as Senior Pastor to open its doors to “the people no one wants.” These were the people of our community who were disenfranchised because of mental deficiencies and physical limitations. They were people whose past misdeeds or present reputations deemed them undesirable. They came from unspeakably harsh and turbulent home environments, or from no home at all.

The Spirit’s proposal created quite a stir in the congregation, but in the end, sadly, the endeavor was deemed to be too difficult, too expensive, too much work, require too many changes, and cause too much inconvenience. The overall refusal by the church membership for the operation was disappointing and damaging to my approval, costing me respect in the assembly.

Compassion’s Recompense

There were no guarantees to be found on the Jericho road for anyone who would choose to stop and stoop and aid a fellow traveler in distress, and there are no guarantees of a happy ending for you when you choose to do the same. You may be resented, rebuffed, and rejected by those you expected would applaud your initiative and your surrender, and then contribute to the cause.

There remains, though, a considerably greater and exceptionally higher eternal reward. Someday soon you will hear the King declare to you:

“Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom

prepared for you from the foundation of the world…

As you did it to one of the least of these my brothers,

you did it to me.”