Three Good Samaritans
(Deut.30:10-14; Col.1:15-20; Lk.10:25-37)
The question ‘Who is my neighbour?’ has long been controversial.
Many people define their neighbour quite narrowly, while others say that this not only includes those around them, but also the animals and the land as well.
So, who do you think is your neighbour?
In today’s Gospel, a lawyer asks Jesus this question and he replies not with a definition, but a story. A man is beaten up and left for dead by robbers on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho. A Jewish priest and a Levite see him there, but don’t stop to help.
Then a Samaritan appears. He binds the man’s wounds, he takes him to an inn and pays for his care, and he promises to return.
The significance of this story rests on the fact that the Jewish people despised the Samaritans. They considered them impure, inferior and incapable of doing anything worthwhile. And yet only the Samaritan helps this poor injured man.
Richard Rohr says that the two Jewish men aren’t necessarily bad people; they just have other priorities. It was against their law for them to touch a bleeding man, and they wanted to be sure that nothing stopped them from doing their priestly duties in the Temple.[i]
For the Good Samaritan, however, compassion is much more important than any cultural or legal expectations.
This parable reminds us of another story in the Old Testament, in 2 Chronicles 28, where the Israelites of the Northern Kingdom defeat the Judeans in the south. The victors then take 200,000 men, women and children captive from their homes around Jerusalem and Jericho.
But then the prophet Oded confronts the Israelite army on their way back to Samaria. And he asks, ‘Have you not also sinned? Will you now make your fellow Israelites your slaves?’ This makes the victors think, and they not only decide to free the captives, but they also feed the hungry, bind up the wounded, and return them all safely home.
For Oded, compassion is far more important than any military triumph.
Someone who was greatly influenced by the courage and compassion of the Good Samaritan was the French priest, St Vincent de Paul (1581–1660).
He was ordained at the age of 19 and for the next 60 years he dedicated himself to serving the sick and destitute in the villages and towns of France, visiting them and giving them food, clothing, shelter and spiritual care.
Like Mother Teresa, he recognised Jesus in the poor and he liked to say that ‘The poor are our masters… they are the suffering members of Christ.’
Along with St Louise de Marillac he founded a community of nuns, the Daughters of Charity. They lived among the poor, running hospitals, orphanages, and soup kitchens. He trained them to be practical, loving and joyful, and said, ‘Their convent is the streets; their chapel, the parish church; their cloister, the hospital wards.’
In effect, they were the ‘innkeepers,’ continuing the Good Samaritan’s work of ongoing care.
At the time, France suffered from terrible famines and civil war, and Vincent responded by organising donations and support networks to send food, clothing and medical supplies to those affected.
In 1619, King Louis XIII appointed him chaplain of the galley slaves in Paris and Marseilles. These were prisoners who were chained to benches and forced to row large warships, often for hours or days without rest. They were often beaten, starved and forced to sleep in filth. Not surprisingly, many died from exhaustion or disease.
Vincent didn’t just send help; he boarded the ships himself and entered the filthy lower decks; he spoke with the prisoners, treated their wounds and organised fresh food, clothing and volunteers to help them.
Like the Good Samaritan lifting the wounded man onto his own donkey, Vincent lifted up these men up with dignity and hope. He listened to their stories, heard their confessions and shared his wisdom. And he lobbied the authorities, urging better treatment of these men.
St Vincent de Paul was a Good Samaritan not just once, but throughout his life. Like Jesus, he crossed every social, moral and physical barrier to serve people no one else would touch. And he established communities that continued this work long after he was gone.
St Vincent knew that compassion isn’t just feeling sorry or praying for someone who is suffering. Compassion is actively doing something to help them.
Here, then, is your question for today: who is your neighbour?
[i] Richard Rohr, The Naked Now: Learning to See as the Mystics See, Crossroad, NY, 2009: 122–123.