During this period of Ordinary Time, we explore a theme that forms a part of Christian living. It is neighbourliness. In the case of the other two Synoptic Gospels, Jesus is tested on His priorities and so they posed Him the question on which the greatest commandment is. In Mark and Matthew, Jesus pointed to the Shema of Dt 6:5 on how one should love God and also to Lv 19:18 on how one should love the neighbour. Luke’s Gospel carries an interesting twist. A lawyer shows interest in eternal life and what he should do to merit or inherit it. Instead of answering directly, Jesus first draws both the biblical quotations from Deuteronomy and Leviticus out of the lawyer. In response to the man’s desire to justify himself, Jesus tells the parable of the Good Samaritan to illustrate the full meaning of who or what a neighbour is.
The biblical background of the Samaritan shows that despite him being despised, he is even more law-abiding than the listeners, who are mostly Jews—symbolised by the Levite and the scribe passing by and avoiding the injured man. In using a class of people whose status is questionable, Jesus intends to show that God’s love is not provincial, for it is blind or impervious to colour and creed, culture and class. To do good is godly or divine and the only criterion for action is that someone needs help.
When one thinks of assistance or being helpful, there are no good Samaritans in Japan. If there is a person of Japanese origin in the congregation, this might sound shocking to hear that there are no good Samaritans in Japan. Or even in Korea too. Before you pick up a stone, the statement is not meant to denigrate as it is to invite one to probe a little deeper. The word Samaritan is synonymous with a person who reaches out to others through acts of selfless behaviour. When a person does not care about himself or herself but sets out to do good, we are fascinated or inspired. But should we be amazed by a kindness that reaches out? Perhaps this is better appreciated when we look at the familiar experience of clutter-blindness, meaning that when everyone is good, then a person’s kindness or generosity will not stand out. We will basically take it for granted, just like clutter-blindness—that such “Samaritan” behaviour is normal and routinely to be expected. Apparently, in Japan, regularly, lost items are returned to their owners.
Call it is social values or religious up-bringing, the result is a culture where there is a high degree of human solidarity. Individuals behave in a manner which enriches society as a whole. Just as when the tide rises, all boats are raised or as the climate-change proponent would say, the islands disappear. The point is, when everyone is kind, then nobody’s kindness will in any way be exceptional.
Instead what we have is the proliferation of the service industry. The existence of such an industry is itself a tell-tale sign of why kindness should not be exceptional but ordinary. The very fact that we need to pay for someone to treat us better is really saying something about the state of our solidarity.
In the past, the Catholic Church ran one of the largest, if not the most extensive network of hospitals and schools. Prior to the advent of government-sponsored medical and educational services, health-care and scholarship were expressions of two priorities of the Church. Firstly, it was the out-reach of the Good Samaritan. Both educating the young and caring for the sick were expressions of this parable. No one was turned away from schools or hospitals. Especially so when you consider all the orders, congregations and institutes founded to provide health care and education for the poor. Secondly, our Samaritan outreach was not based on an ideology. To reach out to others is to reach out to Christ Himself. “Whatsoever you do to the least of my brothers, that you do unto me”.
The question posed by the lawyer can now be turned on its head. Using the parable of the Last Judgement in Matthew 25, where the sheep and the goats are separated, the criterion for differentiating is based on what one has done or found to be deficient in so doing. The result is rather stark. One is either redeemed or condemned. Such a system where one is rewarded or punished can generate a sense of guilt. Sadly, one is driven to act only because one is fearful. Perhaps we can detect the same fear with respect to the Church’s obligations. We are left with the guilt of “go to Mass or else”.
Excellence or nobility demands that we go beyond the criterion of the Last Judgement, that is, to transcend reward or punishment. The question of who my neighbour is may invite me to look out or search for them. They are out there and I am supposed to find them. But if the question were rephrased as to whom I am a neighbour or to whom have I been a neighbour, the change in perspective is profound.
It becomes an introspective exercise inviting me to look more at my thoughts and behaviour. This is challenging because it now becomes a matter for the examination of my conscience. I become more conscious of the shadows lurking in my thoughts and reactions. I may be kind to someone and then the motive could be that I am just doing my duty and no more. Thus being kind to someone also invites me to purify my motivation.
What draws me to be a neighbour? The answer and motivation is Jesus Christ. Am I able to see Jesus in everyone. Or is my vision filtered? Do I see Him whom I should love and adore? Or am I driven by narrow parameters like race and religion or by selfish and material considerations. According to St Paul, Jesus is the image of the unseen God. By the same token of Matthew’s 25chapter, every man, woman and child is an image of the invisible Jesus.
The Parable of the Good Samaritan should make us look for Jesus. Slogans that inspire actions can only go so far. There is a quote floating around attributed to Mother Teresa of Calcutta where, it seemed, she was asked about what to propose to young people and her reply was “Give them Jesus, only Jesus, always Jesus”.
Her entire life was premised on Who Jesus was to her and for her. Every action of hers was never to fulfil a slogan nor to meet some indices of achievement or accomplishment. Instead, she saw Jesus in every person she came across. She was a neighbour to everyone because she loved the Jesus in everyone she met and served. Maybe we can follow her example.