Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time C
In preparing for this Sunday, I tried to think of famous
neighbors I might use as familiar examples. The two who first came to mind perfectly fit the bill. To begin with, I thought of Dennis
Mitchell—better known to most of us as “Dennis the Menace.” From the comic strip, we know just how
Mr. Wilson feels about his much younger, very active neighbor: he’s too loud,
too messy, eats too much of his food, and breaks far too many windows. And then there was the second famous
neighbor: [singing] “It’s a beautiful
day in the neighborhood, a beautiful for a neighbor…” We all know Fred Rogers—that’s Mr. Rogers, of course. Through his TV show, we all became his
neighbors, and he introduced us to many others, as well.
Dennis Mitchell. Fred Rogers. If you got to pick, which would you chose to be your neighbor?
The fact of the matter is we don’t generally get to pick our
neighbors, do we? “And who is my
neighbor?” asks the scholar in the gospel. Our neighbors are those God sends to us, whether they live
in the house next door or are sitting in the next pew; whether they have a
nearby locker at school or work with us on the job; whether they play with us
on the team or they’re driving in another car on the road. Our neighbors are neighbors simply for
being near to us, and—no matter who they are, what they do, or where they come from—we
are called to treat them love and care and compassion.
That’s a critical lesson in light of the news lately—so full
of shootings and strife, of refugees and fear of the stranger. We hear about these problems on a
national and global scale, worrying and wondering, “But what could I ever do to
make a difference?” Remember: you
and I haven’t been called to save the world. (That position has already been taken.) No, we’ve been called to love our
neighbors—without picking and choosing among them—and just imagine how the
whole world could be and would be transformed if each of us treated those
nearby with love.
“And who is my neighbor?” The question asked by the scholar of the law is what prompts
Jesus to tell the parable of the Good Samaritan. But did you notice how Jesus—as he often does—answered that
question with another question?
Near the very end of the passage we’ve just heard, Jesus asks in
response, “Which of these three, in your opinion, was neighbor to the robbers’
victim?” The difference between
the questions is rather subtle, but hugely significant. The first assumes that the neighbor is
somebody who is near to us, while the second urges us to draw near to someone
else as neighbor. The first is
passive, while the second is active.
We aren’t to wait for a neighbor to come to us in need; we are to go and
be neighbor to others.
Being neighborly—reaching out—in this way is at the very heart
of being a Christian, because by it we imitate Jesus. In Jesus Christ, God has become neighbor to you and
me—moving right into the neighborhood, choosing to dwell among us, and
promising to remain with us always—no matter how much we behave like Dennis
Mitchell. And from the example of
Jesus we have so much to learn! We
can be tempted to only love those who seem deserving…but the Son of God came to
save us when we deserved it the least, yet needed it most. We can be tempted to love only those
who will recognize the gift and show their thanks….but how often are we
ungrateful for God’s blessings? We
can be tempted to only reach out when there’s room in our schedule…but was
their anything convenient about the Cross?
This is where the name of the upcoming diocesan vocations
summit is so instructive: INSPIRE: Called to Love. We all share a common
vocation—the call to reach out in love.
And just as we don’t get to choose those who become our neighbors, nor
do we get to pick those to whom we are to go in love as neighbor. That’s the “inspired” part. The commands of God—we’re told in the
first reading—as so close to us that they’re already in our hearts. The same Holy Spirit who inspired the
writing of the scriptures dwells in your heart and mine, and still speaks to us:
“Go there! Do that! Help him! Speak to her!”
But we must listen for and obey those inspirations. And when we do listen and obey, when we
reach out in love, when we become neighbor, we discover that in drawing close
to another person we’ve also drawn close to God.
We often find ourselves asking, like the scholar of the law,
“And who is my neighbor?” But the
more crucial question is the one once asked by Fred Rogers—asked by God of you and
me each and every day: [singing] “Would
you be mine? Could you be
mine? Won’t you be my neighbor?”
Good post.
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