From my book A Most Amazing Man (Year C) – see also the non-Lectionary version A Man Like No Other 1 – a reflection on what it means to love your neighbour.
Read
Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. ‘Teacher,’ he said, ‘what must I do to inherit eternal life?’ He said to him, ‘What is written in the law? What do you read there?’ He answered, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbour as yourself.’ And he said to him, ‘You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.’ But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbour?’ Luke 10:25–29
Meditation of the lawyer who questioned Jesus
‘Teacher’, I said, ‘what must I do to inherit eternal life?’
and I knew what he was going to say, even as I put the question.
It was typical of the man’s genius,
always turning the tables on those who tried to catch him out.
‘What is written in the law?’ he asked. ‘What do you read there?’
Brilliant!
Only this time, I believed, he would meet his match,
for I was well used to legal debate,
and had my case prepared.
‘Love God,’ I said, ‘love your neighbour.’
‘Exactly,’ he said, ‘do this and you will live’,
as though that was that,
the discussion at an end,
But that was my cue,
and I leapt in gleefully,
sensing the kill.
‘Yes,’ I smirked, ‘but who is my neighbour?’
Clever, don’t you think?
And I genuinely believed I had him stumped,
for though all this loving of neighbour sounds fair enough,
what does it actually mean?
If you’ve never asked yourself that then it’s time you did,
for how wide should we spread the net –
when or where should we draw the line?
The people next door, they’re our neighbours,
but what about those in our village, our town, our country,
let alone those beyond?
Where does it start?
Where does it end?
You tell me.
And that’s the question I put to Jesus,
fully expecting him to flounder in my well-laid my trap.
Come on, I reasoned, there have to be limits somewhere!
The Romans, for example,
our hated oppressors –
surely he couldn’t mean them!
And as for tax-collectors, prostitutes, sinners,
you could write them off for certain –
accept them and we’d be talking of Samaritans next,
our enemies –
God forbid!
No, I had him pinned down,
his back to the wall,
and there could surely be no escape?
Only then he looked at me,
and told that unforgettable story about, you’ve guessed it . . .
a Samaritan! –
and somehow the question was back where it had started:
with me.
‘Which of these three was a neighbour to the man?’ he asked,
his meaning all too clear,
and it was clear then, beyond any doubt,
that he meant what he said;
that he seriously wants us to treat everyone as our neighbour –
no person outside our concern,
no situation we can wash our hands of.
I’d put the question,
I’d had my answer,
and, I tell you what,
I wish I’d never asked!
Prayer
Open our hearts, Lord, to our neighbours everywhere
and our responsibilities towards them.
In the hunger of the poor,
the misery of the homeless,
and the plight of the refugee;
in the despair of the oppressed
and anger of the exploited;
in the victims of natural disaster, terrorism, violence and war;
help us to recognise your call,
your need,
our summons to loving response.
Amen.