WHO IS MY NEIGHBOR?

By Linda Bartlett

Are your neighbors the people who live next door or all the people who live in your cul-de-sac? Are your neighbors the farmers whose land borders yours? Are your neighbors just the people you know and with whom you feel comfortable?

Christians are challenged to put God's pro-life Word into right practice. We know we are supposed to love our neighbor, but do we know who our neighbor is? Does it really matter if we know who our neighbor is... or not? And what difference does it make once we know?

In the Book of Luke, a lawyer sees an opportunity to test Jesus. He asks, "Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?" He said to him, "What is written in the Law? How do you read it?" And he answered, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and will all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself." And He said to him, "You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live" (10:25-29 ESV).

The man asking the question is not a lawyer as we think of one. He is a Scribe or Pharisee who spends his days teaching, repeating, expounding upon, reasoning with, and interpreting the Mosaic Law for the Hebrew people. You might say that this man eats, drinks and breathes religious stuff. He knows the Law. It is his job to take the Law and determine what people should do with it. He tests Jesus by asking: "What must I do to inherit eternal life." It is a flawed question because, according to Jewish Law, a person can't do anything to inherit something. An inheritance is a gift. The Pharisee, in his attempt to test Jesus, misses the point that the Torah (the Book of Law) is a book about God's saving grace for sinful people, not a "how to" book of instructions for those wanting to earn God's favor. Jesus doesn't answer the man's question. Instead, He turns the dialogue back to the Word of God (as we all should) with a question of His own: "What is written in the Law? How do you read it?" The Pharisee answers by repeating Mosaic Law, "Love the Lord God...and your neighbor as yourself." Jesus said, "You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live."

The Pharisee knows the letter of the Law, but does he know its spirit? Does he know how to live it? Can he live it? Jesus, who sees our hearts, knows the difference between orthodoxy (right answers) and orthopraxy (right practice). The two are not opposites; rather, one supports the other and vice versa. Perhaps, realizing the impossibility of fulfilling the commandments, the Pharisee asks yet another question, "Who is my neighbor?"

Is the Pharisee implying that some people might not be his neighbor? The Greek root of the word neighbor means "nearby, close." It means "whoever happens to be nearby or close at hand" (The Lutheran Study Bible, ESV, commentary on Luke 10:29, p.1735).

I fear that too many of us who read God's Word and say we "love the Lord" fail to see everyone as our neighbor. More tragic, we fail to be a neighbor. Is this because of our own prejudice? Discomfort? Fear? Inconvenience? Selfishness? Lack of compassion?

When we are prejudiced or uncomfortable, do we see a person of different color or culture as our neighbor... and treat them as a creation of God? When our future plans are threatened and we are inconvenienced by a pregnancy, do we see the fetus (Latin: young one) as our neighbor... and treat them as a creation of God? When we desperately want to have a child but face infertility and opt for in vitro fertilization of dozens of eggs, do we see each embryo as our neighbor... and treat them as creations of God? When a young man with Downs syndrome wants to befriend us, do we see him as our neighbor... and treat him as a creation of God?

Jesus wants to help the Pharisee confront his faulty thinking. He uses the Parable of the Good Samaritan to help the lawyer - and us -- recognize the believer's inconsistency between faith and practice. We say we "love the Lord." But, if we fail to recognize our neighbor and love him as we "love the Lord," what then?

In the Parable, Jesus explains that a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho was robbed, beaten and left half-dead by robbers (10:30). The man was traveling a dangerous road, possibly one of the most dangerous in the ancient world. Left for "half-dead" meant the traveler would die without medical care.

A traveling priest sees the injured man and passes by on the other side (10:31). Why? He is faced with a predicament. In obeying the Jewish purity law, the priest must not go within four cubits (twelve feet) of a defiled Jew or a non-Jew. The priest is unable to even discern the condition of the man without getting closer than twelve feet and, thus, risking defilement. Perhaps the priest concludes that he will be of more help to the Hebrew people if he ignores this fallen traveler.

Next, a Levite comes down the road and, seeing the injured traveler, passes by (10:32). Why? A Levites isn’t like a priest. It is permissible for a Levite to come in contact with a defiled or dead body. Perhaps the Levite is fearful of being robbed himself. Or, maybe he's just cold-hearted. Or, maybe he sees that the priest doesn't stop to help, so why should he?

But, then, a Samaritan comes to where the injured traveler lies and, when he sees the man, he has compassion on him (10:33). Why? Because compassion oozes up out of his very being. The word for compassion is the word splagknizomai which literally means "a pouring out of the bowels." We pause to consider that the lawyer listening to Jesus' parable is probably stunned. No, more likely horrified. After all, Jews and Samaritans have no respect for one another. Jews curse Samaritans and Samaritans despise Jews. Nevertheless, Jesus explains that the Samaritan binds up the injured travelers wounds, pours on oil and wine, sets him on his own animal, and takes him to an inn (10:34).

The Samaritan sees the fallen and hurting stranger as his neighbor. With complete unselfishness, the Samaritan treats this neighbor with divine respect and care. Putting possible personal risk aside, the Samaritan delivers his wounded neighbor to a roadside inn (pandokeion) or public house where he, himself, becomes vulnerable to attack by the people of the village. Middle-eastern tradition, or the law of retaliation, can rightfully assume that the man who brings a wounded person to a place for help is the same man who caused the injury. Knowing this, a street-smart Samaritan would, at the very most, leave his neighbor... and run for his own life! But, no, this Samaritan exposes himself to danger by staying with his neighbor and caring for him. The next morning, he gives the innkeeper money and promises to cover any additional fee when he returns (10:35).

Jesus asks the Pharisee, "Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?" The lawyer said, "The one who showed him mercy." And Jesus said to him, "You go, and do likewise" (10:36-37).

In telling the Parable of the Good Samaritan, Jesus opens the eyes of the lawyer to see all people as his neighbor. With open eyes comes the opportunity to put right thinking into right behavior. Jesus wants our eyes - and hearts - opened, too. Neighbors are not limited by our prejudices and misunderstandings but are brought into our lives, literally "nearby" and "close," to be served with merciful compassion.

We travel a twisting, turning, and often dangerous road called life. Along this road are many other travelers; indeed, our neighbors. They are other human beings not so different from ourselves -- of every age and in all circumstances. At first, some of these neighbors may appear to be strangers. Some appear inconveniently. Some shake our confidence and disrupt our peace of mind. Some threaten to change our course. Some carry hardships on their backs and ask us to share the burden while others deposit the whole pack at our door.

We "love the Lord" when we turn from self to others. We "love the Lord" every time we love our fellow travelers - our neighbors - on the journey.

A pregnant mother first meets her unplanned and yet-to-be-born baby by way of ultrasound photography and, with compassion, adjusts personal plans to welcome and serve her little neighbor.

A married couple of seven years wanted to love a child of their own, but upon meeting an orphaned first-grader, began the process of adopting a young neighbor into their hearts and home.

The boy asked the girl out hoping the night would end "sexually satisfying," but was moved to respect and protect this beautiful neighbor in the same way he hoped another guy would protect his sister.

Before we meet him, can we know who our neighbor is? No, but upon meeting him, we can be a neighbor. We are a neighbor when we protect and defend someone. We are a neighbor when we listen to someone and show respect. We are a neighbor when we serve someone with the compassion and mercy of Jesus Christ. This is putting right thinking into right practice.

Author's Note: I am indebted to Ken Chitwood for his extensive research on Jesus' Parable of the Good Samaritan. This article, adapted from Ken's copyrighted presentation entitled "An Adventure in Missing the Point," was written after hearing Ken address an adult Bible class at Mountain View Lutheran Church in Apache Junction, AZ. I was compelled to weave Ken's message into one that might help us all better understand that the tiniest and most vulnerable people are, indeed, our neighbors. I am grateful to Ken and Rev. Mark Friedrich for giving me permission to use their research in shaping this article. To obtain Ken's presentation and intensive study on The Parable of the Good Samaritan, please e-mail ken.chitwood@hotmail.com