The Sánchez Archives FIFTEENTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME Year C

By
Patricia Datchuck Sánchez

You Are The Neighbor

DEUTERONOMY 30:10-14
COLOSSIANS 1:15-20
LUKE 10:25-37

Several decades ago, when the world was less technological, the streets less dangerous and society less mobile, the question, “Who is my neighbor?” was, perhaps, more readily answered. So also, were the parameters of the neighborhood more easily discerned. Neighbors were the people who lived nearby, on the same block, within the same barrio or apartment building. Neighbors knew one another by name, helped one another through difficult times and rejoiced in one another’s blessings. Neighborhoods were friendly havens, rich in ethnic diversity and reflective of the character of the people who made their homes in them.

Many, today, complain that the neighborhood is an endangered species and that neighborliness is a dying art. Some blame the very technology that has made the world a global village for further distancing people from one another. After all, how can faceless and nameless “cyberneighbors” surfing the chat rooms of the internet possibly compare with a face to face conversation on the front stoop or porch. Of course, cyberspace keeps the interaction unencumbered, detached, sterile and convenient, but are these the qualities of a neighbor? In his poem, Mending Wall (North of Boston, 1914), Robert Frost (1874-1963) seemed to suggest that the fences or walls, that we tend to erect around ourselves and our turf, limit and restrict would-be neighbors from one another. Moreover, he subtly insinuated that some of us prefer the security of our walls to the risks of personal encounter.

Aware that the person of the neighbor and the experience of the neighborhood are to be valued and preserved, Fred Rogers and Public Television created a program for children; for 30 years, Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood has offered to a vast young audience an opportunity for being a neighbor and for belonging to a neighborhood where people are cherished and valued, regardless of, and even because of their differences and disabilities. Through his characters, both real and fictional, Rogers continues to teach life lessons about honesty, respect, growing up, individuality, etc. With each program, he renews the invitation, “Won’t you please be my neighbor?” In today’s gospel, Jesus also teaches a life lesson through the characters of the Good Samaritan; once again he renews the invitation to discipleship and challenges believers to consider the question, “Who is my neighbor?”

In his reflection on this gospel, Dietrich Bonhoeffer (The Cost of Discipleship, S.C.M. Press Ltd., London: 1937) proposed that the answer to Jesus question is: “You are the neighbor!” Neighborliness is not a quality in other people, it is simply their claim on ourselves.“ Therefore, it is not our prerogative to question whether so-and-so is our neighbor or not. He is! She is They are! Rather than waste time toying with the question, and without considering the theological walls and political fences which had stood for centuries between the Jews and his people, the Samaritan recognized the wounds and needs of the robbed and beaten man as a claim on him. He responded as a caring neighbor to a person who, if the situation had been reversed, may not have responded similarly. Such was the quality of neighborliness to which Jesus called and continues to call his disciples.

Jesus’ special style of neighborliness was dictated by a standard higher than the Mosaic law (first reading from Deuteronomy). Indeed, the call to allow all others a claim upon ourselves was dictated by Jesus himself from the cross. Through his saving sacrifice, he revealed the extent to which our divine Neighbor and God loves and cares for all people. To answer God’s call to follow Jesus’ lead requires that we rise up to greet each new day by looking into the mirror and saying, “You are the neighbor.” Then, with courage and commitment, we are to live accordingly.

DEUTERONOMY 30:10-14

George Ernest Wright (1909-1974), the great Presbyterian scripture scholar and minister once described the faith of Judaeo-Christian believers as “truly democratic in that it can be laid hold of with power by the simplest and the most humble” (“Deuteronomy”, The Interpreter’s Bible, Abingdon Press, Nashville: 1953). Although God is surrounded by mystery and absolute knowledge is beyond finite, human grasping, nevertheless, God chooses to be known and the divine is revealed among us in a manner we can comprehend and to which we can readily respond. Such is the message of today’s first reading.

Part of an address which Moses was purported to have delivered to the refugees from Egypt in the wilderness, this text and the rest of Deuteronomy were probably the products of a much later time in Israel’s history. Most scholars agree that the Deuteronomist’s recension of the law can be traced to the seventh century B.C.E. where it was used as an impetus in the religious reform of King Josiah. In an effort to call their contemporaries to a renewed fidelity, the Deuteronomic authors adapted their ancient legal traditions to new and changing situations, all the while reminding the people of the simplicity and nearness of the will of God for them.

According to an ancient Jewish tradition, God’s ways and will were unknowable, and required, that a chosen intermediary (Enoch) ascend to heaven and then return to earth to instruct humankind in the law. Today’s text from Deuteronomy serves as a corrective to that notion; indeed, God has written the life-giving and salvific law in the human heart (v. 14; see also Jeremiah 31:33; Ezekiel 36:26-27). Not an esoteric truth, hidden in heaven or somewhere beyond the sea (vv. 12-13), God’s will for humankind is simple, understandable and practicable. Moreover, each person, regardless of their educational background or intellectual acumen has been made capable of recognizing and responding to God’s commands.

Perhaps, it is its very simplicity that sometimes derails those who strive to attend to God’s way. Too often, many of us fall into the trap of thinking that great feats and Herculean efforts can somehow make us worthy of god’s love and capable of discovering the path to life. Recall Naaman, the Syrian leper (2 Kings 5) who traveled to Israel in search of a cure, loaded down with silver, gold and festal garments. Naaman was ready and willing to go to great lengths to be healed of his disease. When told by Elisha that he need only wash in the Jordan river, he stormed off in anger. That was too facile; therefore, he reasoned, it couldn’t work. But God called Naaman to pierce the wall of his own rationality with a sincere and trusting faith. When he did, he was made whole. Remember also, the series of desperate questions posed to God in the book of Micah (6:6-7). In their desire to be restored to their covenantal relationship with God, the prophet’s contemporaries were willing to barter for God’s favor with holocausts, thousands of rams, myriad streams of oil and even their first born children! Micah’s answer to their extravagant offer was disarmingly simple. . . “do what is right, love goodness and walk humbly with God” (Micah 6:8). . . and remarkably similar to that of the author of Deuteronomy. . . “return to God with all your heart. . . heed the command of God and carry it out” (Deuteronomy 30:14).

Today, the ancient authors remind us that we already know what we are called to be and to do; they also remind us that it is our personal free choice and daily responsibility to bridge the gap between knowing and being and between knowing and doing.

COLOSSIANS 1:15-20

Four of Terry Waite’s five years as a hostage in Beirut, Lebanon, were spent in solitary confinement. To pass the time and to maintain his sanity, he begged his guards to bring him books, which he read voraciously, escaping, at least for a time, into the pages of other worlds, other people and other circumstances. Frequently his requests for books were denied; during those dark and lonely times, Waite relied on his memory to fill his mind with passages from books he’d read, poems he had learned since childhood. “Across the years,” said Waite, “the words of many men and women had come to me through books. They had made me laugh, cry, rejoice and enabled me to maintain some sense of perspective. They had also assisted me as I attempted to give meaning to my own myth and to my own journey. . .” (Footfalls in Memory, Doubleday, New York: 1997). Remembered prayers and hymns lifted Waite’s spirits, causing him to soar beyond his cell and the shackle that bound him to the wall, enabling him to center on Christ and so to survive. The exalted Christological hymn which comprises today’s second reading has similar potential. Those who give themselves over to its dynamic movement and who can call it to mind in times of doubt or difficulty will be able to soar its theological heights to union with Christ.

In its original context, the author of Colossians quoted this pre-existing early Christian hymn to assure his readers of: (1) the primacy of Christ over and above all angels and cosmic powers; (2) the value and necessity of the cross; (3) the cosmic effects of salvation. Unfortunately, some of the believers in Colossae were being seduced by an incipient gnosticism that claimed to be superior to Christianity. Maurya P. Horgan (“The Letter to the Colossians,” The New Jerome Biblical Commentary, Prentice Hall, Englewood Cliffs: 1990) described the source of the seduction as a complex syncretism that incorporated features of Judaism, paganism, magic, astrology, mystery cults and Christianity. To avert this treat to the faith, and to correct any false notions, the ancient writer refocused the attentions of the distracted on Christ.

By designating to Christ as the eikon or image of the invisible God, in whom everything was created, the Colossians author referenced both the Jewish concept of wisdom, as God’s helper in creation (Wisdom 7:25-26), and the Greek understanding of the logos or ordering principle by which God called everything into existence. Whereas, his opponents regarded the angels as rivals of Christ or as entities whose powers superseded Christ, this hymn affirms Christ’s power and position over the four ranks of angels (v. 16: thrones, dominations, principalities and powers) which, according to Hellenistic Judaism, guarded the seven levels of heaven. Moreover, and in answer to those who wrongly asserted that Jesus became Lord and Christ only at his resurrection, the author of the letter to Colossae called his readers to widen their perspective so as to grasp the mystery of Christ in its entirety. The earthly Jesus is to be understood as part of an event that transcended the beginning as well as the end of his life among us; the historical Jesus is framed by his pre-existence with God and his post-existence as the resurrected, glorified Lord. Therefore, Jesus has primacy in everything and absolute pleroma or fullness (v. 19) resides in him. As William Barclay (“Colossians,” The Daily Study Bible, The St. Andrew Press, Edinburgh: 1975) explained, pleroma means that Jesus is not simply a sketch of God or a summary and more than lifeless portrait of God. In Jesus, nothing has been omitted; he is the full revelation of God and nothing more is necessary. Through the person and mission of Jesus, God has reconciled and made peace with all things in heaven and on earth.

Therefore, the ancient author seems to be saying to his readers that to look elsewhere or to be seduced by anything other than Christ is vain and foolhardy. Like Terry Waite, who found refuge and sanity in special remembered passages, those who will recall this hymn to Christ will be fortified against any and all deterrents to their spiritual sanity and salvation.

LUKE 10:25-37

An editorial published in a December 1991 issue of Glamour magazine (and quoted by Mark Link in Action 2000, Tabor Pub., Allen, TX: 1993) related the story of a woman driving a red car on a toll road. Pulling up to the tollbooth, she handed the attendant seven tickets. “I am paying for the next six cars,” she said. As each of the cars stopped, the driver was told that the lady in the red car had already paid and “Have a nice day!” The woman in the red car attributed her generosity to something she had read by Anne Herbert: “Practice random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty.” Herbert suggested that “random kindness” is capable of creating a tidal wave just as “random violence” can. In affirmation of Herbert’s statement, the editor of Glamour extended this challenge: “Like all revolutions, guerilla goodness begins slowly, with a single act. Let it be yours.” In today’s gospel, Jesus is extending a similar challenge to believers, with one notable exception. The followers of Jesus are not called to random acts of kindness but purposeful loving service.

Much can be made of the fact that a priest and a Levite saw the plight of the beaten man and continued on their way. Excuses can be offered for their behavior. Perhaps they had a more urgent matter to which to attend. Perhaps they thought the man to be already dead and did not want to render themselves unclean and therefore unable to perform their duties in the temple. Perhaps they declined to interfere in what they regarded as some sort of divinely ordained punishment for a sinful life. Perhaps, honest readers of this Lucan parable might even be inclined to sympathize with their refusal to become involved in the man’s plight. Whatever their rationale, those religious professionals were not the featured characters in Jesus’ parable. In what was no doubt both shocking and even a little insulting to his listeners, Jesus chose a Samaritan as the “star” of his story.

Although they shared a common heritage, Jews despised Samaritans and treated them as foreigners. The hostility between Jews and Samaritans was exacerbated by a deep-rooted rivalry concerning their sanctuaries (Mt. Gerizim, Mt. Zion), messianic expectations, and by disputes regarding the interpretation of their sacred texts. The fact that Jesus chose a Samaritan to be the exemplar of a good neighbor indicated that among his disciples there could be no such rivalries or hostilities. He had come to redefine and interpret the law. Prior to Jesus, the term neighbor meant another Israelite; today’s parable stretches the traditional definition to include anyone in need. The robbed and beaten man was to be perceived and cared for as a neighbor because his need staked a claim on all who saw him. To refuse that claim is to breach the law as Jesus read it; to breach that law of love is to disinherit eternal life.

It is significant that Jesus refocused what could have been a heady discussion initiated by a lawyer into a lesson on love featuring an unlikely hero. Roland J. Faley (Footprints on the Mountain, Paulist Press, New York: 1994) sees further significance in the fact that the lawyer could not bring himself to speak the word “Samaritan.” In response to Jesus’ question, “Which of these three, in your opinion, was neighbor to the man. . .” (v. 36), he could only say “the one who treated him with compassion” (v. 37). Whether the lawyer learned the life lesson Jesus was teaching is not ours to know. What remains of utmost importance for each of us is our own response to the claim made upon us by anyone in need.

These claims call out to us; these claims prohibit our turning a blind eye or choosing to simply pass by, unaffected and uninvolved. The claims of the needy and suffering, the claims of the maltreated and marginalized, these claims affirm our identity . . . “you are the neighbor!”

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