Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time - Love Rules

It’s nice and warm in here—everyone’s sleepy eyes are slowly drifting down. It’s a little afternoon nap time, so I won’t interrupt your nap for too long. But maybe while you were napping, you missed this detail of the Gospel: Jesus doesn’t answer the question.

You may have noticed that because you were drifting off near the end, when the response came. But Jesus doesn’t answer the question. They come to Him and say, “Who is my neighbor?” Then He tells this whole story—and at the end, He asks, “Which of these people was neighbor to the victim?” Instead of saying who your neighbor is, He flips the question on its head.

Before we dig into that, let’s look at something else. A lot of people say the number one reason they don’t come to church—especially the Catholic Church—is because they “don’t like organized religion.” And I say, “You should come to the Catholic Church—because we’re totally disorganized! You’re going to love it.”

But really, people say they don’t like organized religion because they don’t like rules. They’ll say, “I love Jesus. I love God. He makes me feel good. But all those rules—I just want to live my life the way I want. God is a nice side feature, but I don’t want Him messing with my freedom.” It’s a very American attitude: “Don’t tread on me.” We don’t like things imposed on us. We don’t like rules. We don’t like kings. We’re free.

So they look at Catholicism—especially with all its rules—and think it’s not for them. But that’s a mistake. It’s a mistake to look at the Church that way. Jesus Christ didn’t come handing out a rule book. The Gospels aren’t a rule book. People try to turn them into one, but if you look carefully, they are the story of a life—four accounts of the same life. We are given the story of a life. We are given an example to follow—not just a list of rules.

And that’s fundamentally important: relationships produce rules. Rules don’t produce relationships.

Think about that in your own life. You don’t start with a bunch of rules and then fall in love with someone because of them. That would be weird. Maybe there are people like that—but that’s not how love normally works. When you love someone, then rules naturally follow. You say, “I’m not going to date other people because I’m dating you.” There are things you choose not to do because of your relationship. You say yes to someone, and that yes implies a lot of no’s. But those no’s are in service of the great yes.

That’s what the Gospel is. That’s what Jesus Christ brings us: the example of a life we’re meant to imitate. And when we walk with Him, when we enter into His relationship with God, we start to see clearly. We recognize that some things are harmful to others and to ourselves. And we understand that only after we’ve encountered the person of Christ—after He’s shown us what it means to be human.

That’s where the rules come from. That’s where all the rules of our faith come from.

So let’s go back to that question Jesus doesn’t answer: “Who is my neighbor?” The Pharisees were thinking in terms of rules. They wanted categories: “If this person is my neighbor, then I do this; if they’re not, then I do that.” And Jesus says, “Forget about that.” That’s a crazy way to live.

And it’s how the Old Testament law functioned in a way—it was like training wheels. The Jewish people were just learning morality. God had to impose a lot of structure, like you do with small children. You can’t just affirm a toddler’s freedom. They need boundaries to learn how to exercise their freedom properly. But as they grow, the rules are pulled back, little by little.

That’s what God was doing with His people. He was saying: stop obsessing over whether someone counts as your neighbor or not. In the parable, the priest and the Levite see the wounded man and pass by on the other side because he’s bleeding—and if they touch blood, they can’t serve in the temple. They’re following rules, and they miss the relationship, the moment, the person right in front of them.

Then along comes a Samaritan. Samaritans were considered heretics—half-pagan, half-Jewish. The Jews thought their religion was messed up. And it kind of was. But this guy, who doesn’t follow the rules, who doesn’t fit into the system—he sees someone in need and helps him.

And Jesus says, “That’s the point.” What are all the rules for, if you’re missing the person in front of you? What good is it to be pure and rule-abiding if you ignore the suffering person on the road?

That’s what the Gospels are here to teach us. We have to encounter the one who lived a life of love. Jesus Christ is the Good Samaritan. Pope Benedict writes about that in Jesus of Nazareth—that Christ is the Good Samaritan who descends to us. We are the wounded ones on the roadside. He comes to meet us where we are, lifts us up, and shows us how to live.

That’s the message of the Gospel. That’s the message of discipleship. Yes, there are rules. But charity and truth go together. They’re not opposed. You can’t have truth without love, and you can’t have love without truth. This Gospel is teaching us to bring those two together.

So as we encounter Christ in this Gospel, and as we encounter Him in the Eucharist today, let us bring those things together. Let us follow Christ. Let us remember that the Gospel is more than rules, more than head knowledge.

Jesus says to them, “Go and do likewise.” Not “go and know” what you’re supposed to do—though that’s important too—but “go and do.” Put it into practice.

That’s our challenge this week. Every person we encounter—no matter who they are, no matter how messed up they may seem, even a difficult family member—we are called to go and do likewise. Be a neighbor to them.

Even if it’s someone on the street. You don’t have to give them money if you know they’ll use it for drugs. But acknowledge them as a human being. Look at them. Ask them their name.

When I worked with the homeless down in Portland, we used to ask them to pray for us. They were so moved. They were used to being brushed off or given charity. But when we treated them like human beings and asked, “Will you pray for me?”—it gave them dignity.

That’s what it means to be a neighbor. There are countless opportunities around us. Let’s think about that this week and try to put it into practice.

And now… you can go to sleep.