“‘Going to him he bandaged his wounds, poured oil and wine into them, set him on his
own donkey, took him to an inn and looked after him—.Which of these three, do you think, was really neighbor to the one who fell among the robbers?’ He said, ‘The one who was
merciful to him.’ Then Jesus told him, ‘Go and do the same’” (Luke 10:34)
The good Samaritan had more compassion than the Levite and priest. The theme is found elsewhere, such as the woman at the well ((John 4:7-29). Before the profound depths of the events lies something more obvious; the universal dimension of our Lord’s ministry. He came to His own people, yet He reached out to all human beings. To love Gentiles does not mean that He loves Jews less. Love is not quantitative—we are not given a certain amount or capacity to love—rather, our love expands as we extend it to others. Indeed, one measure of intelligence is the ability to discern varieties of humans and to recognize individual traits among them. The limited group people into categories by race, ethnic background and region. They use the word “all,” as in “all [racial/nationality] people….” The intelligent and observant notice, as did our Lord Jesus, that even the most respectable members of one’s nationality, like the priest and the Levite, can be rude and self-serving, while a Samaritan [Palestinian in our time] may be found sensitive and caring.
It does trouble me when I learn that one of our Orthodox Christians has lied to, cheated or in some way offended somebody, not because I esteem a partner in faith above others, but because I expect more from her or him, perhaps in the way that our Lord Jesus felt His people were more open to the Spirit of God than the Gentiles.
I thought of the phrase: “Who is my neighbor?” in recalling an incident years ago. I asked why our next-door neighbor, Massoud, about nine or ten years old, seemed so sad. He told me that his uncle visiting from India had a heart attack. I tried to cheer him up and offered to visit the man, whom I barely knew. He was inside the baggy transparent little Oxygen tent used in those days. He must have unzipped the tent as I was praying, half peering through my eyelashes, a custom that keeps me in two worlds. I saw the inert dark-complexioned Hindu or Muslim, [I didn’t remember which] extend one hand, grip my own and slowly bring it to rest on his heart. Here was an action not needing a word. He didn’t die. He left the hospital and America for his native land.
There are, of course, degrees of affection. We will not love anybody as much as we love our mothers, or love other families as we do our own. I have a deep and abiding affection for those who share the sacred chalice with me. And we may love people of our national background because of the customs and language we share. But to be “in Christ” as St. Paul identifies us is to love all whom He loves, and to expand into the capacity for loving that one finds in the heavenly Father, for whom nobody is an alien or stranger.
We Americans are presently the targets of a massive campaign of hatred aimed at us globally, especially from among certain Muslims provoked by their fellow religionists, generally termed terrorists. We cannot afford to be naïve, nor dare we let down our guard especially when traveling abroad. Still, we must not indulge in hatred. Christians do not respond in kind to those who are intent on our destruction. We are not permitted to hate by the order of our Master, Jesus Christ. We are commanded to love those who hate us and to pray for those who abuse us. This is not masochism or foolishness; it is to be among those who bear their crosses and so enter the Kingdom of heaven.