You know the good neighbour story Jesus tells about the guy robbed, beaten and left half dead on the side of the road? All these religious types walk on by and he’s eventually helped by an unlikely traveler.
Me? Oh you bet I’d stop. It’s like those YouTube videos that pop up in my newsfeed every so often. Some vagrant looking woman sitting alone and crying on a park bench. All these people just pass by and I’m watching like, What’s the matter with you people? She needs help! And finally some guy comes along and asks what’s wrong. I’d be that guy. I’d help.
But I’ve never passed a woman crying on a park bench, or an injured man on the side of the road.
Reality goes like this…
A few years back we had upstairs neighbours who used to throw things at each other. We’d hear them stomping around and pushing over furniture all in a rage. They did everything exceptionally loud – watched tv, got drunk, had sex. I was all Halleluiah!s the day they had a fight on the lawn and she was hauled off to jail.
Another neighbour with a brain injury told me her husband only kept her around for the disability payments. She’d do her best to stop me and deliver the same 20 minute monologue every single day: You know I’ve only got two thirds of my brain, stop me if I’ve told this story before, but I never much liked religious people. Bunch of hypocritical… I’d peek out the front door to make sure the coast was clear before darting to the community mailboxes.
A notoriously tetchy neighbour gave me the finger and yelled, “Get the %&$# out the way!” when she had to slow her car to pass me around a tight corner. I shot back in the exaggerated bible belt voice I save for occasions like these, “Always nice to see you! God bless!” Surely I could kill her with passive aggressive kindness.
Here recently, I watched as my hot tempered neighbours silently wheeled stolen motorcycles through their gate and hid them in the back. With the system here, there was nothing I could do about it. I somehow managed to change my squinty eyes death stare to a tight lipped smile the next time I saw them.
Then there’s the older kids at the end of our street. They made my son cry. I roared like mad woman and sent them scattering. Mess with my child and things will get fierce.
Jesus: “You shall love your neighbour as yourself.”
Oh, I do love my neighbours. Lots of neighbours. Just not these. But since these are only a few compared to the lots of neighbours I love, I figure it balances out.
Heck, I’m good at loving neighbours. I taught years of Sunday school, was a middle school youth group leader, and co-led a bible studies for teen girls. None of that is for the faint of heart.
Before I moved overseas, I spent time with teenagers every week at a therapeutic group home. Most of them are not that lovable. Three summers in a row I spent a week at a camp for refugee kids. A bunch of them aren’t that lovable either.
Love my neighbours? I moved to the literal other side of the world to support my husband as he flies out to remote villages. He picks up sick people that would otherwise die and transports missionaries who would have to hike for days through dangerous jungle terrain.
I’d say I’m actually pretty darn good at loving my neighbours, thank you very much.
Jesus: “This is what God does. He gives his best –the sun to warm and the rain to nourish– to everyone, regardless: good and bad, the nice and nasty. If all you do is love the lovable, do you expect a bonus? Anybody can do that.”
Yeah but that’s God, so of course he has enough love for everyone. It comes with the territory. I’ve got love for most everyone, a few obnoxious cases aside.
Jesus: “In a word, what I’m saying is, Grow up. You’re kingdom subjects. Now live like it. Live out your God-created identity. Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you.”
The way God lives towards me? So it’s not just about an old bible story, set up YouTube videos, and the do good projects I pick?
Oh man. That changes things.
The good neighbour (good Samaritan) story is found in Luke 10:30-37. The Jesus quotes are taken from Matthew 5 & 22, The Message and the New American Standard
This post originally published on www.namasayamommy.com