Lying here, beside the road to Jericho,

beaten and bloody, thirsty, barely conscious

I wonder – is there no one, no neighbor?

I see someone coming – a priest;

he looks at me, I know he sees,

but he gathers his robes about him

and crosses the road.

I hear footsteps – is there hope after all?

But it is a righteous man, a Levite, 

a leader in the synagogue; 

he gives me a look of disdain,

this is surely my own fault –

and goes around my bleeding body. 

I have about given up – I am weak,

my lips are parched, night is falling.

I hear a donkey’s hooves;

I don’t even raise my head – 

he will surely pass me by as well.

But no, he stops, he cares, he gives me water,

he puts me on his donkey,

takes me to the inn, provides for me. 

My people have always scorned the Samaritan,

but it was he who was my neighbor. 

 

Jesus told this story – like all his parables,

it is an analogy for all time.

The road to Jericho was rocky, a place for robbers to hide.

Jesus’ audience would have thought it was the man’s own fault.

The priest stands for every priest, pastor, preacher, 

television evangelist, evangelical leader, or saint –

who has ever treasured purity – of self, church, or nation –

at the expense of the hurting, the wounded, the outcast.

The Levite is the saintly leader in the church

who cannot be bothered with the wounds of humanity,

who follows the letter of the law, to the harm of God’s children.

The wounded man is the outcast, the poor, the immigrant,

the LGBTQ community, all those being hurt. 

The Samaritan is the outcast, who may just save us all.

 

And now I ask, as Jesus did,

Who is neighbor to hurting humanity?

Are you priest, Levite, or Samaritan?

Who is your neighbor?

Joyce Alexander, 5-5-19