Scripture readings for the 15th Sunday in Ordinary Time:
Deuteronomy 30:10-14
Psalm 69:14, 17, 30-31, 33-34, 36, 37 or Psalm 19:8, 9, 10, 11
Colossians 1:15-20
Luke 10:25-37
“In the face of so much pain and suffering, our only course is to imitate the Good Samaritan,” Pope Francis wrote just a few years back. These words, found in “Fratelli Tutti,” remain true and urgent as ever. They are moral words I’ll never forget.
He was talking about how in our connected world, a world of global communication and commerce – our world of purchasable splendor and the supply chains that support them, often labor exploitation too; also our online world of information and misinformation, love and hate – we mustn’t lose sight of the humanity comprising our connectedness nor the moral responsibility we must own for one another both locally and globally, in person and even on social media.
We must not, Pope Francis said, elegantly shift our gaze from the poor and the exploited, crushed underneath either inhuman economic systems or nature-denying ideologies, simply because if we honestly accounted for the marginalized or, for example, the unborn, it would disturb us, disturb our pretty world, showing us that we are not as moral as we like to think we are.
No, Pope Francis said, we must see these brothers and sisters, all of them – Todos! We must not turn our gaze away from such people even if seeing them makes us uncomfortable or calls into question our conventional morality or is bad for profits.
That’s what I think Pope Francis meant by saying our only moral option is to imitate the Good Samaritan. He was, of course, simply iterating New Testament truth, the truth that faith without works is dead and that a person who claims to love God while hating neighbor is a liar (James 2:17; 1 John 4:20).
The point is we can boast all we want about our achievements and our knowledge, our success or our theology, but if none of it compels us to care for others, it’s basically a lie, rubbish, no good at all. We must see others, even those we may not want to see, if we are to see God; that’s the point.
Which is the first lesson of the parable of the Good Samaritan found in Luke’s Gospel. The lawyer’s correct theology did not by itself matter. The challenge was whether he wanted to live out the orthodox theology he proudly professed. “You have answered right; do this, and you will live,” Jesus said to him (Luke 10:28). These are some of the most challenging words Jesus ever said to anyone, words not simply of truth but words also of action.
But again, the demand is that we followers of Jesus are the kind of people who can see. We must be able to see the suffering, the poor, the vulnerable, our fellow human beings. But not just see, we must also see with compassion.
For the story is clear: the priest and the Levite did in fact see the man on the side of road, beaten and half dead, it’s just they saw him without compassion. They saw him and “passed by on the other side.” The Samaritan, on the other hand, “came to where he was; and when he saw him, he had compassion” (Luke 10:32-33). Then the Good Samaritan served him, caring for him at his own expense; his seeing, his compassion and his charity materially benefitted a man who was to him a stranger, whom he made his neighbor by the practice of tangible charity.
Which I guess is the point, that this sort of real love and real mercy should shine like the sun on everyone, like God’s love and mercy does – shining through believers who dare to love beyond boundaries and beyond fear. Or at least that’s the idea.
Which is the unsettling question. In your life as a Christian is love simply an idea? As a Catholic, are you merely sentimental? Is there no morality, no ethics, attending your belief or your devotion? Do you not serve others or care for the poor at all? Are you proud of your Catholic belief, your grasp of theology, but never, say, volunteer? Have you never thought about either the positive or negative effects of your participation in the economy? Have you never wondered who makes all those affordable things you buy, never wondered about their wellbeing?
You understand what I’m getting at? There are plenty of people suffering on the many sides of the many roads of today’s world, but do we see them? And further, do we care? If we are Catholics, we must care. That’s why Pope Francis insisted we imitate the Good Samaritan. He was saying nothing different than what Jesus said to that lawyer. “Go and do likewise,” Jesus said to him. Those words are meant for us too. But will we listen?
Father Joshua J. Whitfield is pastor of St. Rita Catholic Community in Dallas and author of “The Crisis of Bad Preaching” (Ave Maria Press, $17.95) and other books.
