15th Sunday 2025
Deuteronomy 30:10-14; Colossians 1:15-20; Luke 10:25-37
“The word is very near to you. It is in your heart and in your mouth, so that you can do it.” What is the word? At one level, it is the Word with a capital W, Jesus Christ who is the Word of God, and who dwells within us. He is in our hearts; He will be in our mouths when we speak His word.
Can we say more than that? Yes we can, because we have the summary which we know well, and which is provided for us today by the naughty lawyer: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbour as yourself”.
Do you notice something which upsets a claim which is sometimes made about Our Lord? People will allege that Jesus was the first to link the demands of love of God and of neighbour, yet according to this account the link was already familiar: the lawyer expresses it without hesitation. Furthermore, the scribe in Mark’s version of this episode endorses Jesus’ linking of the two as if it is something well known, rather than a novel idea.
Whatever the origin, it is clear that these two commandments are to form the basis of our lives. But what if the two come into conflict?
“Don’t be daft,” you will say. “They can’t.” And of course you are correct. I will rephrase it: “What if the two appear to come into conflict?”
“Explain! Explain!” you will demand, doing your best Dalek impression. “Well, look at the parable” I will reply. “Why do the priest and the Levite pass by without helping the injured man?”
“Because they are mean so-and-sos, as religious people often are” you will respond. Possibly, but what if it is more complex than that? Perhaps they are on their way to the Temple in Jerusalem to carry out their religious duties. They still have a way to go, and if they stop to help, it may cause them to be late, and if the man is dead, they will incur ritual defilement, and be unable to carry out those duties. There may be a whole Temple-full of people depending on them.
Switch the time frame. I am on my way to provide Mass at some parish or other. The people in church depend on me. I have no mobile signal, so I can’t forewarn anybody. If I am able to make an emergency call for an ambulance, I will have to wait for its arrival, and who knows how long that will take? Might I have an excuse for hurrying by, especially if you are among the people waiting in church?
“Certainly not,” you will say. “Your duty of care must take precedence” and you will be correct. But broaden things a little. Does people’s interpretation of God’s Law sometimes make them less compassionate, less committed to love of neighbour, than non-religious people? It shouldn’t, but does it?
I am thinking of the United States. Before each of the last two presidential elections, the US Conference of Catholic Bishops has stated that abortion is their pre-eminent concern. Consequently, a candidate who shall be nameless has paid lip service to the pro-life cause, and has garnered support from some, but by no means all, of the bishops.
Of course, abortion is an important issue, a matter of life and death. But so is health care for all, regardless of income. So is overseas aid. So is capital punishment. So is care for refugees, and for the victims of tyranny. The candidate in question, now the President, has slashed overseas aid, and it has been estimated that fourteen million lives are at risk as a result. His cuts to Medicare and Medicaid will leave tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of his (and the bishops’) fellow citizens without access to healthcare. His enthusiasm for capital punishment will lead to the deaths, admittedly of a much smaller number, at the hands of the authorities, and many of those executed will be innocent. Many American bishops have protested vehemently against the President’s actions, now endorsed by Congress, but the complaint from the Conference of Bishops as a body can best be described as mealy-mouthed.
The point which I am trying to make is that our love of God, and our fulfilment of His commands, must always be compatible with our love of neighbour. If it appears not to be so, then it is not genuine. The Samaritan of the parable is not constrained by the religious scruples of the priest and the Levite, and so his love of neighbour in fact displays more genuine love of God than does their religious attitude. As religious people, we must avoid making similar mistakes to theirs.