REFLECTIONS

A lawyer asks Jesus a question that still echoes through every city street, online feed, and quiet heart: “Who is my neighbour?” He’s not just asking for a definition – he’s asking for limits. Boundaries. He wants to know how far love really has to go. But Jesus responds with a story that breaks all the rules. A man beaten, robbed, and left for dead. Two separate religious figures – people who knew all the right words and lived all the right rituals – walk right past him. Maybe they were busy. Maybe they were afraid. Maybe they just didn’t want to get involved. Then comes a Samaritan. The outsider. The one no one expected. He sees the man, is moved with compassion, and acts. He crosses the road, binds wounds, pays expenses, promises to follow up. He doesn’t just feel empathy – he embodies mercy. This parable isn’t just a call to kindness; it’s a challenge to our comfort zones. Jesus refuses to let us draw the lines of love too narrowly. Our neighbour is not just our friend, or someone who shares our values, language, or politics. Our neighbour is the person we’ve ignored. The person on the other side of the argument. The person whose pain makes us uncomfortable. In an age of distraction and division, “Who is my neighbour?” is a question that demands a new kind of attention. Are we willing to see the suffering that’s inconvenient? Are we willing to love across boundaries that culture, fear, or pride have drawn? Are we willing to stop, to stoop down, and to show up? The Samaritan didn’t ask, “What will happen to me if I stop?” He asked, “What will happen to him if I don’t?” Jesus ends the story with four words that echo louder than the question that started it: “Go and do likewise.” This is not a suggestion. It’s a way of life. A holy disruption. A radical invitation. Let’s not just talk about love – let’s cross the road.

(GPBS eNews)