Jesus' response to the question "who is my neighbor" is not what we might call direct.
As was his way, asked a simple question, he answered with a story - something which we like very much here at Ismaili Friends.
His story is an illustration of the principle that we should love our neighbors as we love ourselves and that our neighbors are not just the people we have most in common with.
It's a great lesson for Christians and Ismailis as we consider the topic of interfaith dialogue.
The Good Samaritan Retold
If you're Christian, you may be tempted to skip this part. You know the story of the Good Samaritan. You heard it enough times in Sunday School. You acted it out, you colored it in, you pinned it on a felt board.
Just give it a second. Let the weight of story hit you again.
If you're an Ismaili, the Biblical story of the Good Samaritan may not be too familiar. You can see the original here first, then read along for our modern twist.
Bill was an 89 year old veteran of the war in the Pacific and proudly wore his combat medals whenever he ventured outside . He still smoked as much as he did in the army, but had accepted by now that he couldn't walk quite as far. He was out on his regular evening stroll today and stopped to rest and light-up on a bench in the park. He hadn't quite timed it right tonight - he really was slowing down - and the sun was already setting with Bill still a half mile short of his one-bedroomed apartment.
From the gloom a man approached, friendly at first, and asked Bill for a cigarette. As Bill looked down to his shirt pocket to pull one out, the mugger pounced, striking at his face repeatedly. When Bill crumpled to the bottom of the bench, the mugger kicked him twice in the head, rifled through his pockets for a wallet (which was empty, but he took it anyway) and scurried off rapidly as an approaching dog barked and growled.
Seconds behind the dog was a middle aged jogger, puffing a little at this half-way point on his route. He stopped long enough to see Bill's limp hand press to his temple and then flop to the ground. He also saw a figure retreating through the trees, heard the wind whistle eerily and shivered as he imagined what might happen if he stopped. He jogged on the spot for a second or two, then followed after his dog.
Minutes later an off-duty cop walked by with his fiancee on his arm. Both were dressed for the theatre. They saw Bill bleeding beneath the bench and stopped, paralysed by indecision. There was no way they could help without getting covered in this old man's blood. Besides, the cop reasoned, this was not a safe place for his fiancee to wait. So, as he walked off, he called 911.
But time was slipping away from Bill. The quarter moon was rising and foot-fall in the park was worringly low.
Youssuf was on the way home to his wife and two kids. The other three had been killed by an American bomb two years ago, but he'd manage to remove his family to the West, away from the conflict that had torn his country apart. He was on his way home from a cleaning job, still sour from the dirty looks he'd been given by the few workers who'd lingered in the office he'd swept, and shaking from the abuse he'd heard shouted at him from across the street just moments earlier.
Youssuf saw Bill's medals glint in the moonlight. He hesitated. He could hear Bill whispering, "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus". Youssuf whispered a prayer himself, this one to Allah, and bent down. He wrapped his coat around Bill's shoulders, wiped the blood from his face with his shirt sleeve, and helped Bill back up on the bench. Within minutes he'd rallied help, carried Bill to a taxi he'd hailed, and ferried Bill to the hospital.
Bill's wallet was gone, he had no record of insurance. So Youssuf paid the ER fee on his credit card, aware just how many evening's work that would be. Promising to visit Bill tomorrow, Youssuf walked the extra three miles back to his family.
Love goes further than dialogue
Youssuf's love transcended expectations. He loved in spite of the fear that sent the jogger packing. He loved in spite of the sense of propriety that paralysed the young couple. He loved in spite of the disdain he could have felt for Bill and his background.
And when Youssuf loved, he moved.
The injunction to love begins with God and ends in action.
So when we speak of Christian-Ismaili interfaith dialogue, we're referring to a point on a continuum. In fact, our hope is that Ismaili-Christian interaction extends far beyond dialogue.
Let's turn our talk into walk.
Let's turn our love for God into love for others, a love that begins with valuing the other enough to engage her in word, but that is strong enough to continue by engaging her in action.
Now, the likelihood of you finding a Christian or Ismaili bleeding to death in a park is, mercifully, very low. But there are other ways we can love each other.
Consider these 5 simple ways you can love your Christian or Ismaili neighbor:
- Help to decorate their place of worship for an event or celebration - just like Murid did.
- Invite a family over for a meal at your house
- Partner with your local church/jamatkhana in their next fundraising event
- Offer your time to your local church/jamatkhana the next time they engage in a community service event
- Take your Christian or Ismaili neighbor out for a coffee and invite them to share their story with you. You'll be surprised how meaningful this will be to your neighbor!
Why love wins
Love is indifferent.
Love says, "I don't care that you're Christian. I don't care that you're Ismaili. I love you".
And this isn't soppy love. It's not romantic, conditional or fragile. This love, the love Jesus taught us, is gritty, determined, costly, sacrificial love.
It's not unaware there are differences. It doesn't even ignore them. It simply chooses to act despite them.
Love wins because love is irresistible. God loves us, and we simply can't run away from that. When we love our Ismaili or Christian neighbor it should be similarly unmissable and inescapable. That kind of love rips away at barriers and breathes life into community.
That's the love God calls us to.