Who is my neighbour?

Jean-Francois Millet:
The Good Samaritan
It is, of course, a cliché that the world has become so globalized and communities so broken up, that we do not any longer know what our responsibilities are. The world has always been chaotic, ties broken and relationships distorted (at least since shortly after someone ate a fruit they would have better left alone).

Knowing that there have always been problems doesn't solve the problems, however. People - philosophers, politicians, pastors, anyone - still seem bewildered (or are they just passing time?) about who exactly we have duties towards. Is my neighbour anyone, my family, nation, refugees, the guy on the street or the African kid in the television-box?

When Jesus was once asked "Who is my neighbour?" (Luk 10:29) he gave the parable of the good Samaritan. We are used to reading the conclusion - that it was the Samaritan who was a neighbour for him who was wounded - not so much as an answer to the question "who is...?" as a turning the question upside down. "Go and do likewise", Jesus says, meaning something like: be a neighbour to others instead of asking who your neighbour is.

Now all this is of course true. Even if we are commanded to love our neighbour, we should first of all want to be a neighbour to others. As in the commandment to do unto others as we would want others to do to us (the Golden Rule), this creates an anticipatory reciprocity, turning the eye-for-an-eye-rule into a reason for doing good, rather than a threat: If you want others to love you, love them first.

But this still doesn't answer the question! Or does it? What we seem to forget is, that even if Jesus' reply turns our whole way of thinking upside down, it does not evade the question (not completely at least). If the Samaritan is the neighbour of the man who had fell into the hands of robbers, then this means that our neighbour is not just anyone, but the person who helps us. This might seem to yield the egotistic conclusion that we should only love those whom we benefit from (a rather unappealing conclusion, isn't it?). But who is then our neighbour other than Jesus Christ himself, who has helped us out of the ditch of death?

This line of thought can be found in, amongst others, Origen's and Augustine's allegorical readings of the parable of the good Samaritan. But Clement of Alexandria seems to be the first to treat the matter in this manner (though less allegorical). In Who is the Rich Man That Shall Be Saved? he writes about the commandments of loving God and neighbour, that
Clement of Alexandria
Titus Flavius Clemens (c.150 – c. 215)
"In both the commandments, then, He introduces love; but in order distinguishes it. And in the one He assigns to God the first part of love, and allots the second to our neighbour. Who else can it be but the Saviour Himself? or who more than He has pitied us, who by the rulers of darkness were all but put to death with many wounds, fears, lusts, passions, pains, deceits, pleasures?. Of these wounds the only physician is Jesus, who cuts out the passions thoroughly by the root, -- not as the law does the bare effects, the fruits of evil plants, but applies His axe to the roots of wickedness. He it is that poured wine on our wounded souls (the blood of David's vine), that brought the oil which flows from the compassions of the Father? and bestowed it copiously. He it is that produced the ligatures of health and of salvation that cannot be undone, -- Love, Faith, Hope. He it is that subjected angels, and principalities, and powers, for a great reward to serve us. For they also shall be delivered from the vanity of the world through the revelation of the glory of the sons of God. We are therefore to love Him equally with God. And he loves Christ Jesus who does His will and keeps His commandments." (Clement of Alexandria, Who is the Rich Man That Shall Be Saved?, XXVIII)
Of course, we still need to think for ourselves. But Clement's reflections remind us that any relationship and duty towards others need to go through Christ.

Populære opslag fra denne blog

Nein!(?) A negative "point of contact" in the Epistle to Diognetus?

Why "contra fatum"?