I AM the Samaritan

" A man fell victim to robbers as he went down from Jerusalem to Jericho. They stripped him and beat him and went off leaving him half-dead. A priest happened to be going down that road, but when he saw him, he passed by on the opposite side. Likewise a Levite came to the place, and when he saw him, he passed by on the opposite side. But a Samaritan traveler who came upon him was moved with compassion at the sight. He approached the victim, poured oil and wind over his wounds and bandaged them. Then, he lifted him up on his own animal, took him to an inn and cared for him. " --[Luke 10: 25-37].


The story of the Good Samaritan is a well-known and well-loved Bible story. But, there is a little known fact, buried in plain sight, in this story. You see, the victim was likely Jewish. The individuals who passed the stranger by, and who even deliberately crossed the street to avoid the scene, were, shockingly, a priest and a Levite-- persons of faith, pillars of the Jewish community.

The one man who was moved with compassion and who stopped to help the victim was Samaritan.  The followers of Judaism, and the Samaritans, hated each other, because each viewed themselves as followers of THE only true form of Jewish faith. To followers of Judaism,  Samaritans were the outcasts.

This parable concludes: "WHO is my neighbor? "

For Jesus, everyone is His neighbor. Jesus kisses the leper. He converses with the Samaritan woman at the well. He eats with the corrupt and greedy tax collectors. As Fr. James Martin, SJ has said, "For Jesus, there is no 'Other'. "

In today's America, blacks largely do not talk with whites. They rarely live in the same neighborhood, for one thing. The Jewish families live in their own enclave. I have had a Jewish lady tell me pointedly, that in "her day", her daughter would never have been allowed to be friends with me, to eat a meal together, or to invite me over to their home.

Muslims are shunned and even feared. In an ice cream parlor recently with my son, I read the name tag of an employee there and it was a Muslim name. I looked in his eyes when I made my choice, and he looked back at me in fear.

Now, in the media, I read that "playdates" -- i.e., parents scheduling time for their kids to play together-- is a subtle but determined way for parents to be sure their children are socializing with the "right families." And the "right families" are the ones with the same socioeconomic class and ethnic group as their own. Once, when my son was about four, he wanted a playdate with a little girl in his class. The mom told me, No, because your son is a boy and my daughter is a girl. --Seriously?!

For the longest time, I had this vague feeling that there was something "wrong" with me. I mean, I talk to strangers. I help anyone who needs something, as much as I can. I shun no one, I treat everyone the same. I have hugged a homeless man. I have shared a giggle with a Muslim woman who had the most fabulous, glittery silver shoes, that I have seen in a long time. (There is nothing like two women bonding over shoes; it is a connection that spans all religions, races, countries, classes.) I have complimented an older lady I did not know, when I crossed paths with her in the market. I told her that she looked amazing!

And where does this determination to treat everyone with Love come from? I know that, as a tiny girl, called ugly every day, going to school with black eyes, and being teased about it, hiding in my room after school in fear, staying up in bed until every else in the house was asleep -- I learned what it is to be marginalized; to wonder if it is better to shout out the desperation or to become invisible; what it is to feel the wounds of abuse; to roll in the shame and humiliation; to cringe in the corner, for fear of just who is going to walk into the room.

In Deuteronomy 30, Scripture talks about how "the Lord your God will circumcise your heart."  This resonates with me, because I am realizing that, only if your own heart has been broken, can you look deeply into the heart of another -- and see Yourself, staring right back at you. Even more, you see the eyes of Jesus, who said, 'Whatever you do unto others, you do unto me.'

Recently, Pope Francis spoke about the marginalized and the poor, calling them "the treasures of the Church." He called the disabled and the poor to pray for "the rich, for those who are now laughing, for those who like to be adored, for the hypocrites, for wealthy people who make merry with large banquets without realizing that at their doors there are many eager to be fed the leftovers of their table."

Perhaps,  the marginalized, the humiliated, the poor, the abused, the wounded, are feared and hated, because their very life is a reproach to those who would ignore the wounds, cross to the other side of the street, and walk away, feeling important.

Today, I AM the Samaritan.  I, with a broken heart, treat everyone the same; not because there is "something wrong with me". But, because everyone is my brother and sister.  I cannot help myself, I give Love to all.

For Jesus knew, that when you have been shattered, when you have sacrificed ALL, and you have nothing else left on this Earth-- the Love that remains in your heart is not just the only thing, it is EVERYTHING.

[Related Posting: "The Good Samaritan",  7/13/13.]

(c) Spiritual Devotional 2016. All Rights Reserved.