Like many of my colleagues, I have been feeling a strong sense of whiplash these past few months. If you work at a college, university or seminary, maybe you have been feeling that way, too. All of us in higher education, including those of us in theological education, have been struggling to stay abreast of the executive orders coming at us fast and furious, as well as the current state of various government departments being rapidly and drastically downsized or closed.
Related to that, those of us who have international students also have been working overtime to stay up on the different orders that directly impact them: their physical safety, and their ability to work, study and travel. It’s been a lot to manage.
In all of this, I have been thinking deeply about what it means to love my neighbor. And those reflections have led me back to an even more fundamental question, the same one that Jesus was asked by the righteous lawyer: Who is my neighbor? If you know Scripture, you know that Jesus’ answer to the lawyer’s question is what is traditionally called the Parable of the Good Samaritan.
If I read this parable correctly, according to Jesus, the identity of one’s neighbor can be boiled down to two simple facts: proximity and need. In the story Jesus tells, the neighbor is simply the one God has placed in front of the Samaritan: the one who needs his help, the one who is vulnerable, the one who has been misused and taken advantage of, and who is in trouble.
One’s “neighbor” doesn’t have to be the person who literally lives next door, or down the street. The “neighbor” isn’t necessarily the person in my book group, golf club or band; or the other parents of the basketball team or the scout troop. First and foremost, the neighbor is the person in my path who is in need.
But Jesus’ parable also makes clear that it takes two to form this “neighbor-relationship.” Two others before the Samaritan had the opportunity to be a neighbor, but they chose to maintain their distance as strangers–maybe even enemies. The priest and the Levite both walked by the beaten man with their eyes averted, even making a detour to the other side of the road to try to slip past as quickly as possible. Or, maybe it was even more deliberate than that. Maybe they saw the man in the road and had contempt for him, assuming that his problems were his own fault–that he deserved them, or that he had done something wrong.
According to Jesus, these, however, these are not the relevant questions. According to Jesus, the only relevant question is: Is this person God has placed in my path in need, and can I help them?
The identity of neighbor, then, is a choice: it is a choice to see the person in front of you and respond. It is a choice to have mercy, it is a choice to take action, it is a choice to accompany them to ensure their safety. And, equally importantly, it is a choice not to ignore someone’s plight, it is a choice not to cross to the other side of the road and pretend there is no one lying bleeding in the road.
Remember, the lawyer’s initial question is about a faithful life, and about what a life of loving God and loving others looks like in practice. Jesus answers this question by inviting us to live into the identity of neighbor for a world in need. See the one in front of you, the one who is in need, and help. Loving your neighbor looks like that.
This moment in time is a very good time to be a neighbor-lover; this is a very good time to be the good neighbor Jesus describes.
Happy Lutheran 
An insightful reflection on the Parable of the Good Samaritan, this blog challenges readers to broaden their understanding of ‘neighbor’ beyond immediate circles. By emphasizing that proximity and need define neighborly relationships, the author encourages active compassion toward those in our path. This perspective prompts a reevaluation of our daily interactions, urging us to embody empathy and assistance to all, especially in times of societal turbulence.
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