Who is my neighbor?

Who is my neighbor? This question, posed to Jesus by what we would identify in today’s nomenclature as a lawyer, can be found in Luke 10:25-37; the Gospel reading we heard on Sunday, July 14^th.  Over the years I’ve heard priests take a variety of perspectives on the significance of Jesus’ message in this Gospel passage.  What I haven’t heard - at least not yet - is a commentary on how Jesus upended the definition of the word “neighbor.” The Webster Dictionary, for example, is quite clear - and simple - in its definition of the term:

one living or located near another

Those who are familiar with what has come to be called the “Good Samaritan” parable know that the injured man at the center of the story was nowhere near a population center, but on the desolate road connecting Jerusalem to Jericho. So the notion that a “neighbor” would be nearby is, for all practical purposes, irrelevant.  Yet, Jesus, in the penultimate moment of his encounter with the lawyer, asks him:

Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man

who fell into the hands of robbers?

And the lawyer answers this self-evident question correctly:

The one who showed him mercy

The lawyer’s question is an important one. Hebrew - and later - Christian Scriptures call believers to “love our neighbor” as ourselves. Hidden within the multiple layers of meaning of this magnificent parable is Jesus’ broadening of the concept of neighbor to embrace Gospel values that redefine Webster’s simple - and simplistic - definition of someone in close proximity to someone else. In other words, Jesus tells us that everyone is our neighbor. And, while I prefer the biblical translation that favors the word compassion over the word mercy; still Jesus’ message that everyone is my neighbor - and therefore worthy of my concern - represents one of the single most challenging imperatives of the Gospel.

            Ironically, the tragedy of the Trayvon Martin case highlights an understanding of the term “neighbor” that is rarely appreciated through the lens of Sunday’s Gospel: is it possible for someone to not be my neighbor? George Zimmerman certainly thought so as he patrolled his neighborhood that fateful night.  Neighborhood watch programs, like the one George Zimmerman supported, argue in favor of the notion that not everyone is my neighbor. And, in a simplistic way, it is easy to agree to that proposition.  All of us have experienced the fear that accompanies a late night walk through unfamiliar surroundings.  In those settings each of us has assumed that the person walking towards us is filled with ill intentions. Is it possible, then, that the person on the other side of the street is not my neighbor?

            Jesus would say “no.”  This is a hard proposition to support - and the Trayvon Martin case is an excellent example why. Lost in the screaming headlines of who did what to whom is the fact that a boy with a shady past was confronted by an adult who assumed he was up to no good.  What if George Zimmerman had assumed that Trayvon Martin was his neighbor? Would the conversation between the two individuals have led to a different ending? Would Trayvon Martin still be alive? Would George Zimmerman have avoided having his head slammed on the ground? Regardless of who initiated the confrontation, the end game was all but predictable, given the presence of a gun in Zimmerman’s pocket. That gun affirmed the notion that Trayvon Martin was not George Zimmerman’s neighbor. Left unanswered by the tragedy is the question: could the outcome have been different?

            Of course we’ll never know; but the encounter between Trayvon Martin and George Zimmerman provides an opportunity for each of us to ask the same question the lawyer asked of Jesus: who is my neighbor? At La Salle, we are constantly asking ourselves that question. Our motto:

Learn ­ - Serve ­ - Lead

assumes that everyone is our neighbor - even when we find it inconvenient or intimidating.  This isn’t to suggest that we frown on graduates who join neighborhood watch programs - the world is often a frightening place. Rather, we want our graduates to cultivate the Gospel notion that everyone is our neighbor; that each person deserves the benefit of the doubt. And, when suspicious circumstances cloud that notion, we want our students to meet those moments with a perspective that is balanced between alarm with respect to the present situation and concern for the other.

            There are no easy answers to the Zimmerman-Martin case; but there are plenty of questions - and the most important one is:

Who is my neighbor?