There’s
an infamous story about Kitty Genovese who, in 1964, was knifed in her
neighborhood in Queens. She screamed for help. And more than a dozen heard her
cries. Yet no one did anything to help or to intervene. Reports have often exaggerated
the details of this event, but the fact remains that at least one witness knew
she was stabbed and yet did nothing. Not until she was attacked yet again by
the same man did someone else call the police. And by then it was too late.
You see,
Jesus’ parable today is not so far-fetched. People really act this way
sometimes. The priest and the Levite witness the suffering of a fellow man and
yet do nothing to intervene. This happens in incidents that grab headlines and
it happens in our daily lives.
I hope
not many of us have had to witness such atrocities. Those of us who have, I
hope, have done something to intervene. But for all of us, it isn’t difficult
to find human suffering. Even if our suffering is not so great, we all do suffer
and we all, daily, encounter the suffering of others. If we read the news,
it will mostly be about suffering. The news from Paris this
week tells of great suffering. May God be with them and defend us all. At work, we may witness spiteful
and petty cruelties between coworkers. In our families, we may deal with
illnesses and addictions. Downtown and in our neighborhood, we may encounter homelessness and
addiction.
In my
experience, everywhere we go, we see suffering. And wherever we recognize the
suffering of another, we may take that recognition, I believe, as a calling
from God to be an instrument of God’s healing and help. To be a
neighbor.
What we
should do in each given situation requires discernment, but we can trust that
God has put us in the situation for his purposes. Each and every time. There is
nothing random or arbitrary about the situations we find ourselves in, though
it may seem that way. In truth, God has put us there. And it’s not to bring
harm or callousness, but to bring healing and compassion. If you are witnessing
human suffering, God is calling upon you to be a neighbor to the one who
suffers.
The
lawyer, desiring to justify himself, asks Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?” The
witness of Kitty Genovese’s attack must have had the same question. He must have thought, "oh she is someone else’s
neighbor. Someone else’s problem. Not mine. It’s nothing to do with me. Leave
me out of it." When in fact, each witness is given an opportunity by God – not
by random chance or accident (which does not exist) but by God, who personally
knows and loves every victim, every witness, and every sinner.
Russian Icon of the Good Samaritan XVIII c. |
Now
Samaritans and Jews would ordinarily have nothing to do with one another – they
were enemies – but this Samaritan gives no consideration to that. He sees past
that tribal acrimony to his common humanity with this bruised and battered Jew from
Jerusalem he finds lying in the road.
Our
common humanity has its grounding both in the earth we’re made out of and in
the breath of life – the ruach – the
spirit that God breathes into our nostrils. We are all of us earth with God breathed in –
and no human divisions can surmount that common identity.
Our
neighbors are not only those with whom we have certain kinds of kinship. Not
only our family members and friends. Not only our coreligionists. If we were to
assist only those who share our faith, we would thereby prove the enemies and critics
of faith correct. They say that faithful religious people are the cause conflict
and violence. This becomes true if we fail to live our faith truly.
Neighborliness
is not due only to the groups in which we find ourselves. Not only to the born,
the young, the healthy, and the free but also to the unborn, the elderly, the
sick, the imprisoned and enslaved. Not only to Americans, but also to the
French and to Syrians and Iraqis and all the people of all the nations of the
world. Not only to Christians, but also to Muslims and Jews and Pagans and
atheists. Not only to the moral, the innocent, and the orthodox, but also to
the immoral, the guilty, and the heretical. Also to sinners. Sinners and
hypocrites like us.
How
often, desiring to justify ourselves, we say, “Well maybe I’m not perfect, but
at least I’m not like so and so. At least I don’t want to do this or that evil.
Ugh, how can a person even be tempted by that sin? I’m so far above that.” Believe me, our own sins are no better. St.
Mark the Ascetic writes that “the devil makes small sins seem smaller in our
eyes, for otherwise he can’t lead us to greater evil.”[i] The
very fact that our own sins look so innocent to us reveals the depth of our
depravity. How much we stand in need of
the cross and of the Lord’s forgiveness and his great mercy, available to us
all in the holy mystery of repentance.
We
enter today into the Philip’s Fast, which is a season of repentance. This is an
especially good time of year for us to identify with all the other sinners in
the world, to stop thinking ourselves better than others, to repent, to confess
our own sins rather than listing the sins of others, to fast and to give to the
poor, to pray for peace on earth, to be a neighbor to all.
So be a
neighbor to all people, not because all people are equally right, or because
there any truth the relativistic nonsense that “your truth is true for you but not
for me,” but because being right is never a person’s deepest identity. Our
deepest identity is that which God creates in us – his own image. Therefore, we
must never allow our differences with other people – even when they’re in the
wrong – to justify any hatred or indifference toward them.
In
today’s epistle to the Ephesians, Paul writes, “There is… one Lord, one faith,
one baptism, there is one God who is father of all, who is above all, and
through all, and in all” (Eph 4:5-6). That is our relationship with all others.
Always bear this in mind. It makes us neighbors of all people, even our enemies. For all people are called by the one God to the true faith and to baptism, never to death and destruction. As St. Gregory the Theologian writes and as we sing each Pascha, "Let us
call brethren even those who hate us."
1 comment:
This blog is great! May God bless you!
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