And Who Is My Neighbor?
And Who Is My Neighbor? Sharon Rodgers “And who is my neighbor?” Now there’s a question with worldwide implications 2100 years after the lawyer wanting to justify himself asked it. Indeed the question has a very personal meaning for me at the moment. My question actually isn’t who is, but who will be my neighbor? You see the house next door, where my former student and her husband, and with time their two sons, lived for the past fifteen years, stands empty. The moving van pulled away exactly one month ago today. John, who has been in the management track at Costco his whole career, was finally given his own store in Silverdale, Washington. So these wonderful neighbors have moved on to a new home, new schools, a new life since all of them until this transfer had lived their entire lives in the Eugene area. I was thrilled back in 2010 when I realized that a former student and her husband were the people who were buying what had been my mom’s home for the previous six years. As time went by I was able to imagine how thrilled Mom would have been as first one little boy and then another came home to live in what had been her final home on this earth. Now I and the rest of us in the cul de sac can only wait and see who will live there next. Neighbors. But we all know Jesus wasn’t simply talking about the people next door, or down the street, not even the ones who may seem less than friendly. No Jesus’ usage, indeed the biblical usage, of neighbor refers to everyone, with the emphasis seeming to be on neighbor as stranger. I presume that’s because it comes naturally to be kind to those with whom we already have loving relationships. As the inimitable Frank Burns of Mash fame remarked at one point: “It’s nice to be nice to the nice,” to which Margaret replies, “Really, Frank. It’s nice to be nice to the nice!” But it is, or at least it’s easy. Jesus asks us to go farther, and with the parable in today’s Gospel he goes so far as to use a Samaritan, someone with whom faithful Jews would not normally have even associated, to illustrate just how broadly love thy neighbor should apply. Interestingly this particular parable is so widely known in the secular world that all fifty states and the District of Columbia have Good Samaritan laws. Ironically though, these laws provide legal protection for individuals who try to provide aid to someone in need, preventing the aid giver from being sued for inadvertently causing injury while offering assistance. How sad we have to protect ourselves from legal difficulties for daring to try to help in a crisis. Of course most of us never find ourselves in such a situation. No, our failure to show compassion for those we don’t know, and sometimes those we do, is due more to the invisible yet remarkably powerful barriers we construct between ourselves and others, be they groups or individuals. Getting past those barriers is hard, hard because it’s uncomfortable and let’s face it, because we’re scared. We’re taught from an early age to fear people we don’t know. I remember well that “Stranger Danger” was one of the topics covered at Safety School decades ago when Zack participated in the program before he went to kindergarten. How sad that we need to teach our children not to talk to someone they don’t know unless someone they do know tells them it’s okay. Depending on where we are, the time of day, whether we’re alone, adults have learned to be cautious about dealing with strangers as well. I believe this sense of caution around those we don’t know can really complicate any desire we may have to take to heart the message of today’s Gospel. Add to this cultural hesitancy to be open with strangers a healthy dose of shyness, and you’ve got a pretty clear picture of what it’s been like to live in my skin basically my whole life. However, learned behaviors can be unlearned. While there are certainly situations where caution is appropriate, there are many more situations where a perceived threat is due more to