But a Samaritan traveler who came on him was moved with compassion when he saw him. He went up to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring oil and wine on them. He then lifted him onto his own mount and took him to an inn and looked after him. Next day, he took out two denarii and handed them to the innkeeper and said, ‘Look after him, and on my way back I will make good any extra expense you have.’ Which of these three, do you think, proved himself a neighbor to the man who fell into the bandits’ hands?” He replied, “The one who showed pity towards him.” Jesus said to him, “Go, and do the same yourself.”
I get the desire to be normal. It makes me feel invisible and safe. Normal feels like the way that things are supposed to be. Normal in Jesus’ parable would be despising the victim (stupid, naked, beaten man), the Samaritan (crazed, spiritual terrorist, tradesman), and to heap admiration on the bandits (poor guys that just can’t get a break) and the religious leaders (as long as they’re not bothering me and keeping the sacrifices on the grill, I’m down). Normal in my neighborhood is to buy charming Victorian houses, rehab them, rename the neighborhood “Lower Pacific Heights”, resell the house for a profit, and think (but NEVER say) that the African American folks are probably happier in Oakland anyway. I get the desire to be normal, but it makes me want to vomit.
Jesus is telling a story about the dangers of “normal” and the imperative to have no enemies. That’s the point at the end of the story. When an enemy saves your life, the word enemy loses all its meaning. Instead of “enemy” the only word that you can use to describe unclean people, and terrorists, and bandits, and priests, and lawyers is “human”. Drop the word enemy and everyone (including your own self) becomes fully human. Then everyone gets to experience the full humanity that Jesus is so anxious to bring to birth.
And it’s not by ignoring differences between people. That’s what counts for normal. There are huge differences between Samaritans and bandits and beaten-up men and priests and lawyers and me and the folks at Westside Courts. We are not all basically alike. We are all magnificently odd and other. You can’t ignore differences and be fully human; you just have to act as if our differences don’t mean a damned thing. When it comes to being a neighbor, or being healed of racism or classism, what matters is faith.
If we only hear the story of the Good Samaritan as a morality tale (it’s nice to be nice to the nice), your take away will be limited. Morality is just another part of being normal. At the heart of this story there is something much more destabilizing and different: God tells us to love our enemies. Not tolerate them. Not get along with them. God tells us to love people that hate us. You can’t stoop down from a position of privilege and take care of the down and out and call it a day. You have to love the life of the other as much as you love your own. You have to get deeply engaged in the life of your victims. And the prize for this is seeing that your salvation is tied up with our enemy’s salvation.
More to come…
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