Saturday, July 9, 2016

15th Ordinary Sunday, Year C, 10.07.2016

Deut 30:10-14 / Col 1:15-20 / Luke 10:25-37

Last week, from Monday to Friday, the priests of the archdiocese were doing their annual retreat.

We were all housed in the far corner of Ponggol and so we were not in touch with the latest news like what’s happening in the Euro 2016, who won who lost, etc.

Of course we can use our mobile devices to see what is happening, but a retreat is a retreat and we priests have to keep the discipline. 

It’s a time to pray and not to play.

So when we finished the retreat on Friday and came back to the parish, we weren’t expecting much news. 

And it was then that I heard the most unlikely news, which was also quite unexpected and quite surprising. 

Like how someone put it: Wah, Singapore got bank robbery! (That’s how we say it ; P)

I have got to read it to believe it. It was reported that a bank was robbed of SGD$30,000 on Thursday. 

And I quote the report: “The Straits Times understands that the suspect strode into the bank and handed the teller a slip of paper with his demands. After she complied, he made off with the cash on foot. No weapon was seen during the incident, which was over in minutes.” 

It was so unlikely and so unexpected because bank robberies are rare in Singapore. 

Previous attempted bank robberies in 2008 and 2004 were foiled.

Yes, we will say that this current case of the bank robbery is so unlikely and so unexpected and even surprising.

In the time of Jesus, there were probably no bank robberies maybe because there were no big banks to begin with.

But robberies on lonely roads were common and it would be safer to travel in groups. To travel alone is like asking to be robbed. 

So when Jesus told the parable of a man on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho and got robbed, His listeners knew what He was talking about.

But they were not prepared for the unlikely or the unexpected and they were in for a surprise.

The man got robbed by brigands, they took all he had, beat him up and then made off, leaving him half dead.

A priest came along, saw the man, but he passed by on the other side, which is understandable because he didn’t want to be defiled by all the blood as that would made him impure to carry out his priestly duties.

A Levite came along and also passed by on the other side, because he also didn’t want to be defiled and unable to carry out his Temple duties.

But the next character was so unlikely and so unexpected. A Samaritan traveller came along and it was he who helped the injured man and even paid for the expenses.

To the listeners, it was a surprise, maybe even an unpleasant surprise, as Jews and Samaritans at that time were arch-enemies and they even persecuted each other.

But the parable, commonly known as the Parable of the Good Samaritan, was a response to the question that the lawyer asked Jesus – “Who is my neighbor?”

The lawyer was actually asking Jesus for a name list of persons that he was to show his love to.

And Jesus shifted the emphasis of the question from “Who is my neighbour?” to “who is a neighbour?” by telling the parable of the Good Samaritan.

Jesus called upon the lawyer, and all of us, to look and to discover what is written in our hearts.

In the 1st reading, Moses had something to say about what is written in our hearts. He said that it is not beyond our strength or beyond our reach. It is not up in the heavens, nor down below in the seas. Or locked up in a bank.

Rather the Word of God, the Word of life, the Law of love, is written right there in our hearts, for our observance.

And the word is this:  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.

Yes, the Law of God, the law of life, the law of love, is engraved in our hearts.

Because of this Law of love that is written in our hearts, then it means that we are to be neighbours of love, and to treat our neighbours with love.

The dictionary defines neighbour as someone in close proximity, which means a short distance away, which can be as close as an arm’s length.

But the shortest distance can also be the longest journey.

Let’s just talk about our upstairs neighbour who drips the mop on our laundry. Or our next door neighbour, whose dog drops the pooh on our shoes.

It is certainly easier trying to go to the moon, then to love these neighbours.

Or how about our closest neighbours who are none  other than our family members.

The sad fact is that we sometimes treat the members of our families who are in need of us, worse than we treat needy strangers on the streets.

So the shortest distance can be longest journey.

But the parable of the Good Samaritan is more than just about who is my neighbour or how to be a neighbour to others.

This parable reminds us of what is engraved and etched in our hearts, and that is the Law of God’s love.

It reminds us that religion without compassion is simply a contradiction.

Each of us has the capacity to love and to show compassion. It’s within our power to say a kind word, to offer sympathy, to give support, to affirm others of their efforts.

These are little drops of “oil and wine” which can take the pain out of the wound.

And of course not forgetting stories of sacrifice made out of love.

Stories like St. Maximilian Kolbe who volunteered to take the place of a condemned prisoner, and gave up his life for another man.

Or, like St. Damian who went to the Molokai islands in Hawaii to minister to the lepers there and eventually succumbed to the disease.

People like them restore our belief in the essential goodness of human beings.

Goodness is as much a mystery as evil. But whereas evil saddens and hurts us, goodness delights and inspires us. 

But goodness and compassion and love shouldn’t be so unlikely or unexpected or come as a surprise to others.

We are called to be good Catholics and to show goodness and compassion and love. If we don’t show it, then that would really be a surprise.