~ It sounds like such a simple question with an obvious answer: Who is my neighbor? If you think you know the answer, this Gospel says: think again! This is one of the most familiar parables in scripture with a title that has become a part of our language. Everyone knows what you mean by a “a good Samaritan.” But 2000 years after Jesus told this parable, we tend to forget: this story is revolutionary. It is shocking. It turns our expectations upside down. You think you know who your neighbor is? Well, pull up a chair. Jesus has a story for you. And it offers some lessons for us here and now.

First: your neighbor isn’t just someone who shares your zip code. It might be the elderly woman in the house next door, the one you go out of your way to avoid. It may be the homeless guy asking for money on the corner of the highway. 

But our neighborhood is bigger than that. Our neighborhood embraces the world. My neighbor is a child in Gaza, hungry because food is embargoed from entering the territory. It is a family in Ukraine, living in a basement while shells explode around them. My neighbor is a parent in Kerrville, Texas, mourning the death of their daughter.                                                                                                            

My neighbor is anyone in pain, anyone in need, anyone wounded by life who feels abandoned or robbed or forgotten.  It is anyone left helpless by the side of the road, in need of compassion or prayers or love. 

My neighbor is anyone trying to make sense of what seems senseless, in a world convulsed by violence, tragedy and grief.                                                                     

My neighbor doesn’t just live in Shaw. My neighbor lives in the Texas Hill Country. In Teheran. In Tijuana. In Tokyo.                                                         

Christ’s challenge to the people of his day is his challenge to the people of our own. It says: look beyond your circle. Widen your horizons.

These days many folks say, “We need to take care of our own first. Don’t worry about migrants. Don’t worry about Ukraine. Don’t worry about Gaza. We have too many problems of our own. Let’s take care of America first, they say, and then worry about everyone else.” That is the case for gutting US Aid around the world. For withdrawing from humanitarian assistance. But this parable says, “No. That is not how you “love your neighbor.” Our neighborhood is the world.

A second lesson: just as your neighbor may not be who you think, so the hero of the story may not be who you expected.

In Jesus’s day, the notion of a Samaritan being “good” was unthinkable. Samaritans were The Other. They were often considered heretics, people who violated God’s law. One commentator has written that when Jesus told the parable, people probably thought, “Ah, the Samaritan enters the story. He must be the villain.” But no. It didn’t turn out that way at all.

If you want a modern take, ask yourself: Who are the people who are despised, disrespected or shunned now? Who are the Samaritans of our own day?

Here’s a start: Go down the list of professions that people don’t respect. Politicians. Lawyers. Journalists. These days, Jesus might tell a parable called “The Good Senator” or “The Good Attorney”. And just like in Jesus’ day, there would be folks who say, “Hmmph. I don’t think so.” 

Friends, one of the lessons for our divided, polarized time is that the potential for goodness – a heart capable of compassion and mercy and love – lies within all of us. It can be found in unexpected people, even in the Samaritans around us. So look beyond biases and stereotypes. See in those who are different from us the capacity, the potential, for good, maybe even the potential for saintliness.

Earlier this week, the Church celebrated the Feast of St. Augustine Zhao Rong and Companions, 120 Chinese martyrs canonized by Pope John Paul II during the Jubilee Year 2000.  One of those companions was Saint Mark Ji Tianxiang, a Chinese lay Catholic and doctor. He was also a drug addict.

While trying to treat a stomach ailment, Mark Ji became addicted at a young age to opium. He went to confession regularly to confess his drug use. But his confessor didn’t understand addiction, and he refused to give absolution, because he believed Mark Ji didn’t really want to change his life. Although he couldn’t receive the sacraments, Mark Ji continued going to Mass. He stayed steadfast in his faith for 30 years. During the Boxer Rebellion, at a time of Christian persecution, he and his family were imprisoned. Through it all, he encouraged his fellow Christians to keep their faith. Eventually, he and his family faced martyrdom. It is reported that Mark Ji sang the litany of the Blessed Virgin Mary as he was about to be beheaded. He was martyred on July 7 1900. A century later, he is a saint. The priest saw Mark Ji Tianxiang as a habitual sinner. But he was also a saint. Faithful. Obedient. Devoted. Even to the moment of his martyrdom. He serves as a reminder to us all: Goodness, even holiness, may not look the way we expect. The addict across the street might just be a saint.

Thirdly and finally, the most challenging lesson: “Go and do likewise.”

These are among the most difficult in all of scripture! Living this command isn’t easy. And I’m as guilty as anyone. Too often, like a lot of us, I just don’t want to get involved. Someone else will do it. I’m too busy. I don’t have the skill set.     But Jesus is telling us all: Get involved.

Because friends, we all need to realize: he road between Jerusalem and Jericho is the road all of us travel. It is the journey of life. Difficult. Arduous. At times, even dangerous. But we don’t travel it alone.

How is the journey going? Are we binding one another’s wounds? Do we live as people who want to heal? Or as people who are indifferent, hostile, or even dismissive?

The Gospel says there is another way. A way that gives dignity. And respect. A way that offers hope. This is what we are called to do.  To see our neighbor in everyone. To see the possibility for goodness in everyone. To get involved and “go and do likewise.”

The ultimate lesson of this timeless parable is one that calls us to action, to engagement, to conversion. May God this grant us the grace to answer that call with fidelity, generosity and joy. As we prepare to receive the Eucharist, we pray for grace and strength to live out this great call. 

Friends, we are meant to be more than just people traveling the road. Christ wants us to be more like the Samaritan. Because in doing so, we actually become more like Christ.