Why do we avoid showing mercy? Perhaps for the priest and the Levite it was a matter of ritual purity; that man could have been dead, and the Law says it is forbidden to touch a corpse. Or it might be that both men had more important religious duties to perform. Perhaps they both judged that the injured man was sinful and deserved what had occurred to him. For whatever reason, these two men failed to show mercy. Do we not all do the same from time to time? Do we not create theological excuses or place our ministry and other "more important" preoccupations above mercy?
When the thieves left this man naked, hanging between life and death, it would have been almost impossible to identify his race. He had no clothes to indicate his background, and he probably could not speak so that his identity would be revealed through his accent. No one could tell whether he was a Jew, a Samaritan, or a Gentile. Lying there on the verge of death, he was just a person in need of mercy.
Jesus told this parable in answer to the question Who is my neighbor? The man walking according to the Law wanted to justify himself. Maybe he expected a different answer. The surprise for this zealous observer of religious law came when Jesus revealed that the hero of the story was a Samaritan. Jesus' message is clear: mercy does not differentiate between people based on their race, gender, social status, or position. Yes, it is easier to love our neighbor as we love ourselves if our neighbor is similar to us. Jesus, however, points to a higher and far more difficult way, the way of the cross.
Jesus said: "If you love only the people who love you, why should you receive a blessing? Even sinners love those who love them! And if you do good only to those who do good to you, why should you receive a blessing? Even sinners do that! . . . No! Love your enemies and do good to them . . . and you will be children of the Most High God. For he is good to the ungrateful and the wicked. Be merciful just as your Father is merciful." (Luke 6:32-33, 35-36).
- 3 SEPTEMBER -