My neighbour in the flesh

I spent frantic school holidays with my family traipsing to other side of the globe, visiting London, Paris, and the south-east of France. Part of this journey was to seek a sense of place as described by the author Kate Mosse, writer of Labyrinth, Sepulchre and Winter ghosts. We visited such towns as Carcassonne, Limoux, Rennes-les-Bains and Rennes-le-Chateau and visualized Mosse’s characters moving through the streetscapes. Being there put flesh and substance on our imaginations.

Luke (10:25 – 37) tells of the lawyer who asks what must he do to inherit eternal life. Jesus asks him, What is written in the law? To which the lawyer responds, You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbour as yourself. But who is our neighbour? And to put flesh and substance on this question, Jesus tells the story of the Good Samaritan.

We know that in telling this parable that the most effective way to answer the lawyer was to use the environment in which he lived and the people who surrounded him. For the lawyer this parable was a salutary lesson about living out the law of love everyday. It is equally salutary for us: are you a priest, a Levite or a Samaritan? The priest and the Levite had good excuses, certainly reasonable by the standards of the community of that time. But their excuses didn’t pass muster with Jesus then, and they still don’t pass muster today. Jesus doesn’t hesitate in requiring all those who love the law to care deeply for everyone who is our neighbour, to act justly, and to follow it through to the end.

There is a salutary lesson here too for the Australian government and its response to refugees. In our own community, how welcoming are we to the refugees already settled in our city? How open are we to the outsider, the unusual, the straggler, or anyone who challenges our idea of ‘neighbour’. There are no simplistic answers, of course, to an issue of global importance, but in the end, we must exercise our option for the poor and dispossessed wherever they may be processed. And this we must do every day. As the psalmist (Ps 18:9) reminds us, The precepts of the Lord give joy to the heart. That’s the pay off, for everyone.

Out lawed with love

Judging from the fines collected in Tasmania for traffic infringements and parking fines, we, as a community appear take a rather broad view of obeying ‘the law’. But we also have the knack (or misfortune) of knowing if it applies to me now or whether or not I just might get away with it.

When you travel to Italy, you will notice that people will park where their cars will fit. I never imagined that bumper bars were actually for bumping, but that’s how they fit into tight little spots, a little bump here, a little bump there, and you’re in. No place for the feint-hearted. If there were road rules in Rome (and I am sure there are) you would wonder what they were.

There are reseachers at all levels of government whose job it is to locate inconsistent, redundant or outmoded laws, regulations and bylaws. Sometimes it may be necessary to go back to why the law was implemented in the first place and whether those circumstances still apply in a different time and place.

Paul’s letter to the Galatians contains one of his central theses, namely that Gentiles who become Christians are not bound by the Mosaic law, but that they were not to abuse this freedom. Indeed, ‘If you are led by the Spirit,’ writes Paul, ‘no law can touch you (5:18)’. Furthermore they should not submit ‘to the yoke of slavery (5:1)’ – and here we can understand this ‘slavery’ as being the Mosaic law. So, even though Paul is quite clear that the law does not apply to these Gentile Galatians, he is doubly clear that the freedom thus earned is an obligation, and this obligation is to accept the direction of the Spirit.

Paul repeats Jesus’ summary of the Law: ‘Love your neighbour as yourself’. And he continues: ‘If you go snapping at each other and tearing each other to pieces, you had better watch or you will destroy the whole community.’ No truer words were ever written. For even if you are freed from the burden of the Law, the obligation to be led by the Spirit remains.

Most laws exist for a good reason, and the assent we give to them must be proportionate to the good that is achieved. A parking infringement is certainly at the low end of scale, while the deliberate taking of a human life is at the other end. In the middle are those misdemeanors that disrupt and disturb schools, workplaces and communities. But it is not blind compliance and obedience that is required of the either local government, Tasmanian, Australian, international, Mosaic, canon law or even school rules – for each of these sets the minimum standard required of our behaviour and actions. If we follow Paul’s exhortation, the Spirit will guide and lead us in truth and love, then, as the prophet Micah implores us – we must live justly, love tenderly and walk humbly with our God.

My words, the commandment

It would be a most noble act as your child left your home for the very last time, to utter words of such import, that they would be remembered by your descendents for generations to come. So if you had the heads up now, what would you say?

Some leave memoirs, beautifully published, that family members may consult. Others leave precious diaries that record events, daily activities and quiet thoughts. Some may bequeath a musical opus, others the remnants of their poetic genius. What would a Nobel laureate utter, or would he be satisfied with his great achievement in science, literature, medicine or in peace?

We ordinary folk, whose lives are recorded by past calendars that highlight dental appointments and family get-togethers, can and do leave words that will impact on our children. They may not make the annals of well- and oft-quoted proverbs and phrases, but be assured they will.

In this Sunday’s Gospel (John 13:31 - 35) Jesus tells his disciples: I shall not be with you much longer. I give you a new commandment: love one another; just as I have loved you, you also must love one another. By this love you have for one another, everyone will know that you are my disciples. These words of Jesus are imprinted on the hearts and minds of every Christian, for they are not just a standard bearer for Christianity, they are a guide for good living, a pathway to building God’s kingdom. It is clear that these words are not just to be spoken and repeated to one another, they are to be enacted, made real through gesture and action.

And this is what the words you leave your children must equally do. What would I say? Know that I really love you and will always love you. This is not a commandment, it is a statement of fact projected into the distant and eternal future. How will they know these words are important and to be always remembered? I will tell them over and over, and my gestures, words, actions and prayers will constantly affirm them. So, by all means have some words that you can you can pass on to your child, but they should be words that complete the life you have already lived together.

As disciples of Jesus we have never been perfect in acting out his commandment to love others, it is a work in progress, like us. It is the journey that matters.