In response to the commandment, “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself”, the lawyer asked the question of Jesus, “But who is my neighbour?” This was a fair query and it received a fair reply. Not perhaps in the form of a direct answer, but in the parable of the “Good Samaritan” Jesus left the lawyer in no doubt as to the true answer to his question.
Among the pharisees, the priests and the rabbis, the question, “Who is my neighbour?” caused endless dispute. They were certain that the Gentiles and Samaritans were outside this category, and even within their own nation there were different classes of society with whom they should have no dealings. Even the disciples of Jesus “marvelled when He as much as spake to the woman of Samaria”. The pharisees spent their lives in an endless round of ceremonies and religious devotions to make themselves pure, and any contact with the alien, the ignorant or the unbeliever would cause a defilement displeasing to God. To them, their neighbour was their friend, those whom they liked and those who lived on the same level of piety and religious worship. Should they regard the outsider, the unclean, or the sinner as their neighbour?
This question Jesus answered in the parable of the “Good Samaritan”. He answered it in such a way that left the lawyer, the pharisee, the disciple, and all posterity with no doubt as to the attitude of Jesus to this question. And yet, even today, among those who profess to know Jesus and understand His teaching there appears to be some doubts as to the true interpretation of this parable and to the question “Who is my neighbour?”
Is it possible that we who claim to be Christ’s followers today could fall into the same misconceptions as these pharisees of old? Could we become so exclusive as to restrict our help and considerations toward others to those only who belong to Christ? We know that through the very nature of our calling as members of the family of God we are drawn very close to one another in the bonds of love and fellowship, but this should never exclude or reduce our responsibilities toward those who are “without”. Christ made this clear (even to the lawyer) in the parable of the “Good Samaritan”. He showed that our neighbour does not refer only to our brother or sister. It has no reference in fact to race, creed, or class distinction. Our neighbour is every one whom Jesus would help if He were here.
The actors in this parable were well chosen by Jesus: “A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves who leaving him half dead.” Whether we take this context in its literal application or its spiritual significance, there is little difference. The certain man represents a fellow human being suffering either physically or spiritually as the result of sin. The priest and the levite as the custodians of religion saw the man’s plight and recognised his need, but “passed by on the other side”. “But a Samaritan travelling the same road saw the suffering stranger and performed the work which the others either refused to do, or were just not interested in doing. “When he saw him he had compassion on him, bound up his wounds, set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. And on the morrow when he departed he took out two pence and gave them to the host and said, Take care of him and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again I will repay thee.”
According to Jesus this parable demonstrated the practical application of the command, “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself”. It silently condemns those represented by the priest and the levite who “profess to know God, but by their works they deny Him”. The great difference between the Jew and the Samaritan was a difference in perspective as to what constituted true love for God. To the former it was belief only without works, profession,outward zeal, exclusiveness, religious intolerance; but to the latter it was a love for God expressed in a true regard for the well-being of one’s fellow man.
The Samaritan had fulfilled the command, “Thou shalt love thy neighbours as thyself”, thus showing that his righteousness was more acceptable than those by whom he was denounced. This great lesson was the theme also of other parables of Jesus which were spoken in relation to those “who thought they were righteous and despised others”. The priest and the levite considered they were more than fulfilling their obligations to God. They had been to worship in the temple, which service was appointed by God himself. To participate in that service was an exalted privilege and a noble work; and they felt that having thus served it was unnecessary to minister to an unknown stranger by the wayside. In any case it was not their responsibility: they had more important work to do.
Is it possible for us today to make a similar mistake? Have we even involuntarily separated our service to God into two distinct classes? The one made up of great things, regulated by our responsibilities within the fabric of our ecclesial life; the other made up of so-called lesser things, in which the command “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself”, is almost ignored? Is this sphere of work so prominent in the life and teaching of Jesus left to caprice, subject to inclination, convenience, or impulse? If such be the case, it is possible for the religion of Christ to be misrepresented even by those who claim to follow Him.
Let us ponder long and deeply over the answer Jesus gave the lawyer. It was not only a lesson to the pharisees, but to the disciples themselves. It is there for us today if we will accept the implications intended by Jesus. But we can pass it by just as easily as did the priest and the levite. The lesson, they considered, was not for them. There were others who would assist the stranger in need. Their work was on a higher plane. They were advancing a greater cause, and thus, within their own mind, their attitude toward the stranger was justified.
Could this, even remotely, be said of us? Is it possible that by a disinterested, exclusive attitude we can build up a resistance toward helping “those that are without”, that in the ultimate the good that we may do is known only among our brethren and sisters? This was the great barrier that Jesus endeavoured to break down as He walked among men, preparing the ground for the sowing of the gospel seed. By His action He showed the way. He did not only preach the gospel, but went about also “doing good and healing all manner of sickness and disease among the people”. For this work He was condemned by the religionists “This man receiveth sinners”, they said, “and eateth with them”, But this fundamental principle He had learned of His Father in heaven, whom, we are told, “maketh His sun to rise on the evil and on the stripped him of his raiment, wounded him and departed, good and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust alike”.
By what other principle can “our light so shine before men”? By what other principle can we be like Jesus, of whom it was said, that the people “marvelled at the gracious words that fell from His lips”. How otherwise can we fulfill our obligations as brethren of Christ to “do good unto all men” and to be “well reported of by them which are without”?
The message we preach will exert little influence upon our neighbour, unless they have first been influenced by our christian attitude toward them. We may make our claim to be followers of Jesus. We may strive to persuade those around us to accept His teaching, but this will have little effect unless they see “Christ in us”. To bend every energy toward the keeping of the first commandment, while we neglect the second and “turn the stranger from his right”, is not the service that will meet with Christ’s approval.
“Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, thy strength, and thy mind, and thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself . . . Upon those two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”
“This do”, said Jesus, “and thou shalt live.”
The Origin of the Organic World – Part One