Closeness to things makes us see them differently. I’ve begun a new assignment at St. Paul’s Cathedral in downtown Worcester, an exciting place to discover and to meet many people. So, this past Friday, I went out to walk around Worcester Common to know the neighborhood. It was an exploration and an exposition exercise since I was in clerics. I wanted to see people’s reaction watching a priest hanging around, not very often lately.
This first walking (hope many more to come), gave me the chance to think about the meaning of this Sunday’s gospel: the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37).
The story begins with a question to Jesus about what to do to inherit eternal life. Let’s say that is a rhetorical question since the evangelist notes that the intention was to test Jesus, who gives a straight answer: “what is written in the law?” In his reply, the doctor of the law quotes both Deuteronomy and Leviticus. Jesus gave back a concise answer, and the scholar pushed: “who is my neighbor?” and then the story goes on.
Finally, Jesus asked, who was the neighbor of the robbers’ victim? I think this question is the key to understand the whole lesson.
Closeness to people makes us see their value. Although the parable has a moral intention (to point out a particular way of acting according to the values of the gospel), it goes beyond giving a norm. Through the story, Jesus invites his disciples to get closer to others and to become neighbors as an opportunity to see and to understand their suffering and struggles. Being a neighbor can’t be a remote action. It’s about to go to the encounter of others and to discover their pain and sorrows.
The Good Samaritan’s response truly goes beyond any expectation. Indeed, those are the kind of actions, both ordinary and extraordinary, that can save lives. In the victim’s suffering, the Samaritan found an opportunity to establish the Kingdom of God as a healing presence that restores human dignity. Unfortunately, the priest and the scribe missed that opportunity when they couldn’t identify themselves as neighbors.
Jesus' answer (about life eternal) turns the heart of the seeker towards a practical action: reaching out to the needy, taking care of them, and making our hearts near to others is a sure path to get what we desire in the depth of our hearts.
The closeness of hearts makes us feel whole. The initial question, what must I do to inherit eternal life? It’s not merely a pious one. The question about eternal life (or heaven, or salvation) is about the ultimate meaning of life; it’s an inquiry for purpose and direction. “Life Eternal” it’s an old expression that conveys all desires and longings to be completed, happy, and filled. Jesus’ answer to such a question turns the heart of the seeker towards a practical action: reaching out to the needy, taking care of them, and making our hearts near to others is a sure path to get what we desire in the depth of our hearts.
In the first reading (Dt 30:10-14) when God said through Moses, “my commandments are very near to you, already in your mouths and in your hearts; you have only to carry it out” perhaps He means that we all are capable of reaching out to others, of being neighbors, of doing something for someone, particularly those in need. Any vocation can be an experience of proximity, service, and love.
My walking around downtown Worcester taught me that my ministry couldn’t be done behind a desk, but it has to go out to the streets, to the parks, to people’s homes. We can’t be Christian if we don’t get near to our brothers and sisters, even less if we don’t take care of the suffering and needy. An important lesson from this walk through the lens of this particular gospel is that closeness to other paves the road to personal realization and fulfillment. In other words, when we are neighbors, we are closer to heaven.
