Fifteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 105

Keep, then, my statutes and decrees, for the person who carries them out will find life through them. I am the LORD.

Jesus' reply to the legal scholar's answer is a direct reference to Leviticus 18:5, a passage that is cited several times in the New Testament.

Saint Paul uses it as a foundation for his teaching about Faith and the Law: 

And that no one is justified before God by the law is clear, for “the one who is righteous by faith will live.”

But the law does not depend on faith; rather, “the one who does these things will live by them.”

Although most of Jesus taught with astonishing authority, "and not like the scribes," his teachings were not radically new. But his insistence that the Love of God and the Love of Neighbor are connected and inseparable was new. The link seems obvious to us -- because it is! -- and yet no one had thought of that before. 

(Ideas are often like that. I think of something I never thought of before and wonder why it took so long to figure that out!) 

Saint John, in his First Letter, will also insist that no one can love God without loving their neighbor. They are not one and the same law; they are separate, but inseparable -- just as the divinity of Jesus is not his humanity, but they are inseparable in him. Anyone who fails to live that paradox, and teaches others to do so, will be lost forever. 

As Saint Luke tells the story, the scribe was so surprised by this obvious insight which he had never heard or thought of, he retreated like a fencer and parried with another question. It may have been inane but he had to say something, and so he asked, "Who is my neighbor?" 

The Lord's story of the Good Samaritan nailed his teachings, since it was 

not too mysterious and remote for you.

It is not up in the sky, that you should say,

'Who will go up in the sky to get it for us

and tell us of it, that we may carry it out?'

Nor is it across the sea, that you should say,

'Who will cross the sea to get it for us

and tell us of it, that we may carry it out?'

No, it is something very near to you,

already in your mouths and in your hearts;

you have only to carry it out."

The answer is just as close as the beggar in the street or the fellow standing next to you. 

But still we wonder how we should practice this teaching. A woman complained to me recently that she did not like a nuisance neighbor. I assured her that we like people who like us, and we're inclined to like people who are like us. Love would never be a sacrifice if our works of charity were given only to the people we like. 

"If you saw this woman get hit by car, you would call 911, wouldn't you?"  

Of course, she would. 

"If she came to you with a medical emergency, you'd drop everything and take her to the hospital?" 

Of course, she would. 

Sometimes our love begins with civility and common courtesies. And then might be stretched to neighborly hellos, and birthday and holiday greetings. 

If we're daring enough, we might admit that our enemies want the same things we want, and share many of the same virtues. 

But, if the truth be told, we intensely dislike those people who resemble the most unlikable things about ourselves. If I tend to be rigid, I detest rigid people. If I try and fail to be neat, I deplore messy people. If I habitually overstep boundaries, I hate anyone who invades my space. And those who always want the last word in every conversation. But what really puts me out is someone interrupting me when I interrupt them! 

And so our charity must extend to oneself. I won’t say it begins there, because it can begin anywhere; but it must include myself. Which is to say, I must get over my specialness, and permit the Lord to love me as He loves others. I must accept that 

As usual, Saint Paul has something to say about that: 

God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.

How much more then, since we are now justified by his blood, will we be saved through him from the wrath.

I will learn to love my tiresome family, nuisance neighbors, and mortal enemies when I admit that Christ died for me even when I was still a sinner. And that I am still a sinner, and my resentment, fear, and hatred shows it!  

But Saint Paul will go on to add reconciliation to the processes of justification and salvation: 

Indeed, if, while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son, how much more, once reconciled, will we be saved by his life.

And finally, 

Not only that, but we also boast of God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.

Our boasting, of course, must be discreet. I think it means we can be grateful, and glad in our gratitude that the Lord has done this Mighty Work for me, even when I was hopelessly mired in my resentments, fears, and impulsive, uncontrollable, reactionary hatred of others. 

In fact, if I am at all lovable, then God is like the mother and father who love their sleeping brat. He finds me lovable, deserving, and worthy. That’s what we mean by grace, as in gratuitous! It’s neither earned nor deserved, but it’s given. 

Like the Samaritan who did what any decent human being would do. He helped a man left dead by robbers; and then promised to cover any extra expenses. It is

…not too mysterious and remote for you.

It is not up in the sky, that you should say,

'Who will go up in the sky to get it for us

and tell us of it, that we may carry it out?'

Nor is it across the sea, that you should say,

'Who will cross the sea to get it for us

and tell us of it, that we may carry it out?'

No, it is something very near to you,

already in your mouths and in your hearts;

you have only to carry it out."