In the Lectionary

July 13, Ordinary 15C (Luke 10:25–37)

Mr. Rogers turns the self-protecting question, “Who is my neighbor?” into a self-expanding invitation.

Jesus understands the power of imagination and the way that a simple image can lead us into new worlds of understanding and action. His parables put abstract faith into tangible reels that linger in our minds. Rather than crafting a complex theological response to the question, “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus tells a timeless story, with characters that are believable even centuries later. If we veer too far from the basic impact of the parable with heavy doctrinal discussions, we risk losing its power as a real example we can emulate.

In Texts Under Negotiation, Walter Brueggemann posits that people do not change much because of doctrinal argument or sheer cognitive or moral appeal. “People in fact change by the offer of new models, images, and pictures of how the pieces of life fit together,” he says. “Transformation is the slow, steady process of inviting each other into a counterstory about God, world, neighbor, and self. This slow, steady process has as counterpoint the subversive process of unlearning and disengaging from a story we find no longer to be credible or adequate.” The parable of the good Samaritan helps us imagine God’s counterstory with relatable people and actions. When we can translate those kinds of actions into our own lives, the Good News comes to life—and our community becomes richer because of its diversity and shared care.

Who is my neighbor? This is a relevant question for the contemporary church. If Christians could answer it with one definitive response, then the church could finally hold itself accountable and act in solidarity with those who are hurting and need care. But centuries after this question was posed to Jesus, we still muddle his response about loving God and neighbor. We continue to stir up excuses for our hesitation and limitations in offering mercy or compassion. Jesus doesn’t identify why the priest and the Levite don’t offer care, so we fill in with our own possible excuses: a lack of expertise in triage care, a concern that giving time to one need would steal time from another. Or maybe it’s sheer callousness or simple fear. The excuses are insignificant as Jesus turns the focus on the positive action that demonstrates a neighborly love.