There are no prizes for guessing what has dominated the news for the last three weeks. The newest conflagration in the Holy Land has virtually been impossible to avoid unless you have made some real effort to do so. As an avid listener to a speech radio station of high-quality journalism, I have heard arguments from both sides of the conflict presented by a great variety of people. There have been relatives of those killed or kidnapped, usually speaking in a very emotional way. I’ve heard politicians, spokespersons, representatives and the like presenting rational arguments and justifications for their respective authorities’ actions. I found it striking how profoundly entrenched, irreconcilable and hopeless their positions are. There is one thing they’ve evidently had in common: mutual hatred. It has sometimes been concealed better than at other times but is easily sensed by any outsider. The most common method of expression was to use derogatory, humiliating terms to describe their opponents, something that happens in virtually every conflict, no matter how large or small. Think of your latest fiery row… It’s a very “convenient” way of dealing with people: you don’t even try to convince them of your arguments; you just want to bring them down.
That precisely was the sole purpose of the question raised in today’s gospel: “The Pharisees […] got together and, to disconcert [Jesus], one of them put a question.” In this context, we can almost hear the sarcasm in the voice of their representative when he addressed Jesus as “Master”, followed by a question set to entangle Jesus in a quasi-theological or moral dispute, at which point they could easily defeat him. Because when they had over 600 commandments in hand and a great sense of intellectual, religious and moral superiority, it seemed dead easy to prove Jesus wrong. His response took them entirely by surprise and wrong-footed them to such an extent that in the Gospel of St Luke, the questioner, “wanting to justify himself, asked Jesus, who is my neighbour?” In response, he – and everyone else – got the moving, timeless parable of the Good Samaritan.
Jesus’ answer to the dishonest questioning was obviously clever, but basking in his own genius wasn’t Jesus’ aim. In the first part of his response, he recalled the traditional Jewish prayer, the Shema, that serves as a centrepiece of the morning and evening Jewish prayer: “You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.” He then quickly followed with the second commandment, directly taken from the Torah, the commonly accepted Jewish holy scripture: “You must love your neighbour as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18). The clever bit, shutting down any opportunity for his opponents to argue with Jesus was his final line: “On these two commandments hang the whole Law, and the Prophets also.” In other words, these two commandments were the framework for every more specific, detailed rule and regulation. It’s an approach similar to most modern democratic countries where any new law must not break the country’s constitution.
These two commandments must go hand in hand; Jesus left no room for a different interpretation. Dare I say, they keep each other in check, or – like old-fashioned scales – they counter-balance each other. Otherwise, we risk either falling into merciless religious zealotry, or even fundamentalism or into a well-intentioned but ultimately misplaced and morally wrong form of humanism, rejecting specific, inconvenient groups of people deemed not to be our neighbours. Secular ideologies can be as powerful tools as religious ones for persecution.
“You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.” This is a beautifully poetic phrase. However, focused on its beauty, we might easily miss its deep, practical meaning. The three realms – heart, soul and mind – represent the entirety of our lives, emphasised even more by adding the word “all” before each sphere. Everything in my life should be subjected to God’s law and will; nothing should be excluded. My behaviour, attitudes, decisions, everything must be affected by God. Our main challenge in this respect is selectiveness – picking what’s convenient, practical or helpful while leaving out everything else that would challenge me. Admittedly, it’s extremely hard to live up to such high standards. We’ll come back to that in a minute.
“You must love your neighbour as yourself.” Christianity has a long and scandalous history of unpleasant, vicious, and sometimes even murderous divisions within it, topped up by the exploitation, abuse and persecution of non-Christians – all that despite reciting twice-daily the Lord’s Prayer, reading and listening to the gospel. However, many Christians in the past have either behaved differently or revised their attitudes towards others and fought hard against inequalities and the abolition of oppressive laws or political systems. Such a struggle never ends. These days, the challenges might differ from the past, but they require similar dedication and determination. So, as I said, it’s very hard to live up to such high standards.
However, we must not think of them as the description of our current stance because none of us loves like that – yet. The two commandments are the gold standard to which we must aspire and try to rise. Love of God and love of thy neighbour must be the mirrors in which our lives are reflected so we can react accordingly, making them better – for God’s sake and the sake of our neighbours.
