Who is My Brother? My Sister? My Neighbor?
Jesus answered the question about who my neighbor is when he told the story of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). When Jesus said "go and do likewise"--show mercy to one who needs it--he defined the parameters of our human connection. We are connected to everyone, and responsible to show mercy, to everyone, even if they are different from us, and a sinner or an outcast or problematic or judged by fellow inhabitants of our comfort zone as dangerous. I think that's why Jesus selected the Samaritan as the example in his story. He could've placed the Samaritan in the victim role, showing him lying by the side of the road, needing mercy, to imply that we who stand in our own assurance of our place in the center of society need to reach out to those we consider "other". But Jesus placed the Samaritan in the powerful role of mercy-giver. He implies that if some "other" gives mercy with such power of kindness, we are to go and do likewise, and not hold ourselves above anyone.
Some people like to limit their neighbors to those in their comfort zone. A science fiction writer, Kurt Vonnegut, coined a name for people in your comfort zone; in his novel "Cat's Cradle," he calls this group a "granfalloon". His idea is that the people who inhabit the cozy zone of hot air and mutual support with you are your granfalloon, and we all crave such a group. I call them kindred spirits, and I never feel I have enough of them. But someone recently pointed out that granfalloonery has its downside, from the Christian perspective: we like to be listened to, but what we need is to be listeners. We need not only our comfort zone of kindred spirits, but our difficult zone of Samaritan outsiders to learn from and give to.
Oddly enough, what changed my viewpoint on my comfort zone, pushing me to reach beyond what I think I need, is the rejection and avoidance I experience from a Christian whom I make uncomfortable. In my heart, I really hurt from this rejection. It seems vast to me, and mysterious, and like a thorn in the flesh of my mind that keeps me wondering. So now I look around with different eyes, and, prodded by my thorn, think: who needs me to reach past my comfort zone? who is my neighbor? if we're all neighbors, brothers, sisters, where do I need to look next? I might look right beside me and see an opportunity to reach across the slim divide.
Jesus answered the question about who my neighbor is when he told the story of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). When Jesus said "go and do likewise"--show mercy to one who needs it--he defined the parameters of our human connection. We are connected to everyone, and responsible to show mercy, to everyone, even if they are different from us, and a sinner or an outcast or problematic or judged by fellow inhabitants of our comfort zone as dangerous. I think that's why Jesus selected the Samaritan as the example in his story. He could've placed the Samaritan in the victim role, showing him lying by the side of the road, needing mercy, to imply that we who stand in our own assurance of our place in the center of society need to reach out to those we consider "other". But Jesus placed the Samaritan in the powerful role of mercy-giver. He implies that if some "other" gives mercy with such power of kindness, we are to go and do likewise, and not hold ourselves above anyone.
Some people like to limit their neighbors to those in their comfort zone. A science fiction writer, Kurt Vonnegut, coined a name for people in your comfort zone; in his novel "Cat's Cradle," he calls this group a "granfalloon". His idea is that the people who inhabit the cozy zone of hot air and mutual support with you are your granfalloon, and we all crave such a group. I call them kindred spirits, and I never feel I have enough of them. But someone recently pointed out that granfalloonery has its downside, from the Christian perspective: we like to be listened to, but what we need is to be listeners. We need not only our comfort zone of kindred spirits, but our difficult zone of Samaritan outsiders to learn from and give to.
Oddly enough, what changed my viewpoint on my comfort zone, pushing me to reach beyond what I think I need, is the rejection and avoidance I experience from a Christian whom I make uncomfortable. In my heart, I really hurt from this rejection. It seems vast to me, and mysterious, and like a thorn in the flesh of my mind that keeps me wondering. So now I look around with different eyes, and, prodded by my thorn, think: who needs me to reach past my comfort zone? who is my neighbor? if we're all neighbors, brothers, sisters, where do I need to look next? I might look right beside me and see an opportunity to reach across the slim divide.
posted by Vicky at 10:17 AM
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