Who is My Neighbor?

Who is my neighbor? If Christians were better at answering this question, our world would be a different place, wouldn’t it? Dr. King used to say that this story of the Good Samaritan was his favorite in the whole Bible. He said that what the Samaritan did in this story was to practice “dangerous unselfishness.” We could use more dangerous unselfishness in our world today, couldn’t we?

One dimension of today’s story speaks to our bitterly divided days. The lawyer, in the end can’t even bring himself to say “the Samaritan was a neighbor.” He says “the one who showed mercy.” How much do we recognize that sense of divisiveness. We are suspicious of people who wear the wrong color hat, drive the wrong type of car, speak with a certain accent. The story of the Good Samaritan reminds us that even people who don’t worship like we do, even people who don’t vote like we do, even people whose movements we can’t stand, they are welcome at Jesus’ table. Jesus asks us to be dangerously unselfish, to practice neighboring, especially toward those who make us uncomfortable.

That’s not to say there isn’t a measure for faith. Jesus has a long table. All are welcome, and if your faith is going to have any maturity, there is a measure.

Amos and the Measure of Faith

That’s the whole point of this divine plumb line in Amos’ story. Amos is telling the people, God has a measure and you’re not living up to it.

In his book the Tears of Things, Richard Rohr points to Amos as the prophet who understands that sin is best understood not at the individual level, but on the collective, the societal level.

We often think of sin primarily as an individual thing. We repent about what we’ve consumed, how we’ve lied to our parents. We repent about sex. I’ve got to break it to you: very little sin is actually about sex, despite what you might have heard. I’m convinced God finds sex far less interesting than we humans do.

Amos isn’t busy pointing out the sins of any one person, not even the king. Amos is concerned about the behavior of the whole nation. Amos is focused on the societal level results of the way people are living. That’s where Amos finds sin. That’s the measure. They may call themselves religious, they may believe they are God’s chosen people, Amos says, but they’re not behaving like it.

“They sell the righteous for silver, and the needy for a pair of sandals–they who trample the head of the poor into the dust of the earth.” There is a measure for faithfulness. There is a measure, and it is how you treat the people who are hurting. The measure is whether a religious society is lifting the lowly, whether faith makes a difference for those in need.

“Christian” isn’t just a label you get to apply because you put a Bible verse in your email signature. Christianity isn’t about being holier than other people, set apart. Christianity isn’t about being better than anyone. Our faith is the opposite: it is a downward journey toward those who are in the most need, toward those who have been left out. The measure of faith isn’t about putting on appearances. The measure of faith is dangerous unselfishness toward those who are hurting, what our story today calls “mercy.”

Mercy

The late Rev. Peter Gomes once preached about mercy,

“the word mercy suggests an unmerited kindness, the gift of something undeserved. When a judge shows mercy [s]he is not responding to the facts, or to what custom or even justice requires. Full in the face of justice [s]he shows mercy, that is [s]he forebears to do what is expected to someone whom [s]he has in [her] power and who has absolutely no claim upon [her] of any sort, and instead [s]he shows compassion. It is not simply kindness; it is kindness in the face of the opportunity to do otherwise. Mercy is not less than justice done; it is more than justice requires.”

In the old prayer book, before coming to Communion a prayer of humble access used to be said. “We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy Table. But thou art the same Lord, whose property is always to have mercy…” now I don’t love all of the old language in the prayer, but I do love the reminder that the essence of God is mercy.

Mercy is the very stuff of God. When we act with mercy, when we engage with mercy, we do better than treating one another as we would like to be treated. We do better than the golden rule. When we practice mercy we treat one another the way God would treat us. We practice dangerous unselfishness, dangerous because it has the power to upset the world as we know it.

Peter Gomes went on describing this mercy on a societal level. He preached:

“The power of the civil rights movement was not in its capacity to hold the nation hostage and to exact a just and violent vengeance. Dr. King did not appeal to the nation’s fears, he appealed to the nation’s ideals and hopes…He was a neighbor to the stranger that was America because he showed it the power of mercy.”

Peter Gomes’ line, Dr King “was a neighbor to the stranger that was America, because he showed it the power of mercy” came back to me over the last weeks, as I watched what is going on in Washington. I hardly recognize the country where I am a citizen. And yet, if America has become a stranger, our work is to be a neighbor, to show mercy, to practice dangerous unselfishness.

When the prophetic voices of our faith are calling out the ways in which new legislation tramples on the poor, when the prophetic parts of our faith ask us to see the ways we benefit from age-old systems of power constructed on foundations of injustice, when we feel these days like our country is becoming a strange land, the central work of faith, remains in asking: who is my neighbor? The measure of faith remains: how do we treat those who are hurting?

Both Sides of Mercy

There is one last dimension of this story I want to engage with you, before I sit down. Because mercy is a two way street. Being a neighbor means being in a relationship, it implies a give and take. Which also makes us uncomfortable. We live in a society where we are rewarded with a feeling of control. We expect to be the ones in charge of our story. Jesus’ confounds that expectation for the questioning young lawyer. Jesus invites us to know in our bones that we are not always the protagonist. We are often the one in need of help.

The theologian Willie Jennings has a name for the sin which is driving so much in America these days. In his book “After Whiteness” Jennings calls America’s primary sin “white self-sufficient masculinity.”

“White self-sufficient masculinity” Jennings explains “is not first a person or a people; it is a way of organizing life.” Like Amos, Jennings believes sin doesn’t function primarily on the individual level. It’s societal. Sin is in the worldview. When we think we must always be in control, we are out of touch with reality. We are out of touch with God.

We’ve broached the question of race and racism already today. I’m going to leave aside, just for today, the question of masculinity. I want to focus on that “self-sufficient” property of our social sin.

You see when we organize our society on the idea of “self-sufficiency” we stray from what God hopes for us to be: neighbors who care for one another. This self-sufficiency is pernicious. Politically it is the force that tells us that everyone should be able to pick themselves up by their bootstraps. It’s the sin that tells us to believe that anyone who relies on a government benefit should be ready to have that benefit cut.

A 21st Century Telling of the Good Samaritan?

This sin of self-sufficiency functions on a societal level primarily, but it does have individual resonances. With apologies to Jesus, I want to re-tell the Good Samaritan story. See if this has any resonance for you.

A man was walking down a major street, maybe Montaño, when he was mugged. The thieves took his wallet and his phone, and left him in a ditch. He recognized someone walking by from his church. The passerby asked, “do you need help?” The man responded quickly, “no, I’m fine, just gathering myself.” The man who had been robbed was grateful the other person didn’t seem to recognize him. How embarrassing would that have been?

A few minutes later, as the man was realizing that his injuries might be more serious, someone his partner served with on a board walked by. She said “gosh are you okay?” And started looking for a way to get down the ditch to help, but without thinking the man responded, “yep, I’m fine, just a slip. See you soon.”

Finally, a construction worker was driving by, he pulls over alongside the ditch: “Amigo, ay, espera momentito vengo para ayudarte.” Before he could say anything back, the construction worker jumped down, picked the man up, gave him a ride to urgent care. The construction worker refused to leave until the man’s partner is there and they’re with a nurse getting care. Even when he went, the worker insisted on giving his phone number, just in case he needed any more help.

Now, which of these three did the man who was robbed let be his neighbor?

Jesus invites us to see ourselves in the shoes of the person who needs help. Self-sufficiency is a sin, because it is a lie. No one gets through life without help. The Beatles had it right. We get by with a little help from our friends.

I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve offered to folks in this church that we have a meal ministry, that if you’ve had surgery or are even if you’re just recovering from a nasty cold, there are church members who will fill up your fridge so you don’t have to worry about meals. Just let us know. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve heard in response, “it’s fine. We’ve got it covered.” You all can sound so self-sufficient. You worry me. Because mercy HAS to work both ways. We learn to practice dangerous unselfishness, when someone practices on us.

Mercy is the very stuff of God. Mercy is what God wants from us, and FOR us. Part of being in Christian community is about allowing that community to care for us, experiencing the unmerited grace, the unearned love of God, through casseroles, green chile, a friendly face willing to help. Neighbors, when we let them, can remind us that we all depend on kindness. We could all use more dangerous unselfishness in our lives. The Good Samaritan held us see that world always needs more faithful people, willing to learn to be better neighbors, to practice both sides of mercy.