Who is my neighbor?

Bishop Scharfenberger

Last Sunday’s First Reading features Moses in a remarkably charismatic state of mind (Nm 11:25-29). “The spirit” of the Lord descends on him — and seventy elders besides — and they all start prophesying. Two men — Eldad and Medad — were not at the gathering when the cloud came down, yet they also got the spirit and were spreading it all around the camp. Moses’ aide Joshua gets upset: “Moses, my lord, stop them.” Why was he so ticked off? Moses seems less ruffled by the ebullient activity than by the questioner: “Are you jealous for my sake? Would that all the people of the Lord were prophets! Would that the Lord might bestow his spirit on them all!”

In last week’s column (“Who’s here?”), I proposed a vision of parish life that would include everyone within the canonical boundaries. Not just those “in church” on Sunday, but all of our neighbors, including those not regularly “in attendance,” even non-believers. Since God wants everyone to be saved, to share in the joy of the divine presence, then why just keep the faith — and not spread it? Why not be generous and share our joy with everyone we meet, the joy of the good news that Jesus brings us, the hope of sinners?

Spreading the faith does not necessarily mean proselytizing or, as some may characterize it, “beating others over the head with the Bible.” We should of course read and know our Scriptures well. As God said to the Jews, “you erred not knowing the Scriptures and not knowing the power of God.” Saint Paul says Christ IS the power of God. If the one who does not know Scripture does not know the power and wisdom of God then, as St. Jerome says, “ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ” (“Prologue of the Commentary on Isaiah”). By virtue of the indwelling of the spirit of God — who wrote and remains in the Scriptures — which we received at baptism, we can BE the very presence of God by all we say and do. “Church” is more than a building. It’s a way of being present. And what better place to be that presence than with our neighbor. Of course this begs the question, and who is my neighbor?

The Parable of the Good Samaritan (Lk 10:29-37) is a prime illustration of how Jesus answers that question. At the conclusion of the parable, Jesus turns the question on his interrogator, who wanted to know who his neighbor was, who was neighbor to the robbers’ victim. To which the man answered, “The one who treated him with mercy.” Then Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”

Showing mercy implies the need to receive it. Doesn’t that pretty much include all of us sooner or later? Some of us may need mercy more immediately. Can you think of examples from people who may be around us in our community — again, broadly understood as those within our circle of influence, within our own parish?

We might first think of people who may be lonely. For many reasons. The loss of a loved one, a spouse, a parent, a child, a friend. Many parishes have ministries for those who are grieving. They may show up at a funeral parlor or a few days later with a call or a home visit. What can they offer? Care and presence perhaps, or a moment of prayer. Perhaps some food. Maybe a conversation will develop over the life of the loved one, their strengths and trials, their last days. It might go beyond this to the emotional, spiritual and physical state of the person who is grieving, or others in their circle of family, work or friends. A connection is made and, with the guidance of the Holy Spirit, some immediate needs might be identified. Others may be brought into that circle of care and assistance, the healing that mercy brings.

Such ministries are typically exercised among Catholic families, though there is nothing to prevent one from stopping in the room where another decedent is being waked, just as hospital chaplains or those bringing Communion may talk to persons sharing a hospital room with the Catholic receiving, or those who have come to visit. It’s what Christians do. They make connections. Remember it was a Samaritan, not a priest, who showed mercy!

Among our neighbors are many who are caught in patterns of addiction. Pharmaceutically induced dysphoria, whether prescribed or self-induced, is rampant. Some may be returning to the neighborhood after incarceration, perhaps associated with some commerce in narcotics. Often called “re-entry,” people who are attempting to pick up life again in a community struggle with fear, acceptance and employment, not to mention the dangers of recidivism. Within this orbit of people in need of connection are many young people, isolated perhaps in a parent’s basement, locked onto various screens with their seductive content. Older people also can be hooked on TV networks, vulnerable to marketing scams. Eucharistic ministers and other parish visitors can help break this cycle through personal calls and visits. Maybe it is the person upstairs or next door whom no one calls or visits.

Access to transportation and meals is a valuable service available in some communities. Funding can be inconsistent and some parishes develop their own ministries, which may include preparation and delivery. In one of my former parishes we had a St. Francis Table which evolved from a sandwich distribution program first at the rectory, then a storefront door, until we opened the room to those who could enter and sit down at a table to be served. City Mission in Schenectady, for example, offers this accommodation and other resources for people who are homeless, unemployed or with special challenges, like women seeking solace from domestic violence. Communities with immigrants may provide ESL courses, besides resources for housing, health care and employment.

As parishioners are seen to be outward-oriented, looking after neighbors and visitors, the Parable of the Good Samaritan comes to life. Christians are seen as people committed to their entire community and opportunities for forming bonds of friendship grow. Faith is seen in action and the Gospel changes lives.