25 On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” 26 “What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?” 27 He answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’[a]; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’[b]”28 “You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”29 But he wanted to justify himself
so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” 30 In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. 32 So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two denarii[c] and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’ 36 “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” 37 The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.” Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”
In Jesus' version, the Samaritan is the one who notices -- who actually sees -- this beaten man and by seeing him is moved to pity. The Samaritan, that is, is the one who recognizes that when it comes to the question of who is our neighbor, there are no rules. Our neighbor, it turns out, is anyone in need. Where does such vision come from? It apparently doesn't come from one's ethnicity, one's religion, one's training, or one's station in life. How else can we explain that a Samaritan saw this when the priest and Levite did not? Having the eyes of faith to see all people are children of God and anyone in need is your neighbor must be a gift of God, it must be a matter of faith, it must start with seeing, and only then move to doing.
You see, my problem generally isn't knowing what I should or shouldn't do. It's having the vision to see the person in need not as a burden, but as my neighbor, to recognize in the face of another their needs not a hassle, but as an opportunity, an opportunity to show the mercy I myself have experienced in Christ. My problem isn't a lack of information; it's a lack of faith. What I need from a sermon, finally, is not an instruction manual or life-coaching session but a cornea transplant. I need new eyes. I need the eyes of faith to see others as my neighbor, other children of God loved by God just as I am loved.
Clearly some people are looking for clean answers and clear instructions about what to do and not to do. And so maybe the church down the road is just the place for them. But there are others -- and I think there are more of us than you might imagine -- that desperately need to hear of a God whose love is so broad and deep that anyone in need is welcome; a God who refuses to parse, or specify, or qualify; a God who is eager to justify each and everyone one of us.
