Oh Man, That Neighbor...

It's not easy to love like Jesus

“Ooh, I like your outfit,” I said to the seventy-something woman standing at my register. “Nice color coordination.”

“Yes,” she said snippily, “just imagine, I’m still able to dress myself.”

Whoa, lady. I was just trying to be nice.

Yesterday’s Gospel reading was that of the Good Samaritan, which we all know. Jesus talks about loving God and our neighbor, and a scholar asks, “But who is my neighbor?”

Jesus replied, “A man fell victim to robbers as he went down from Jerusalem to Jericho. They stripped and beat him and went off leaving him half-dead. A priest happened to be going down that road, but when he saw him, he passed by on the opposite side. Likewise, a Levite came to the place, and when he saw him, he passed by on the opposite side. But a Samaritan traveler who came upon him was moved with compassion at the sight. He approached the victim, poured oil and wine over his wounds and bandaged them. Then he lifted him up on his own animal, took him to an in, and cared for him. The next day, he too out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper with the instruction, ‘Take care of him. If you spend more than what I have given you, I shall repay you on my way back.’”

So it’s clear that the Samaritan went above and beyond what would have been reasonable to do. And it’s not hard for us to feel compassion toward the poor, beaten-up victim.

But what if the victim were like that woman in the store?

Here’s a retelling of the story, with a slight variation:

A Samaritan traveler who came upon him was moved with compassion at the sight. He approached the victim, but the man yelled at him to stay away. He said, “I don’t need your fake ‘goodwill’ and ‘mercy.’ I know all you want to do is brag how you helped the poor, beaten-up schmuck in the road. Why don’t you go f*** yourself?”

Because a lot of times, that’s exactly how our “neighbors” react.