"But one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." (Luke 10:42)
Jesus appoints seventy-two disciples and sends them out two by two ahead of him into every town he is about to visit. The number seventy-two corresponds to the seventy-two nations of the world in Jewish tradition: the mission is already looking beyond Israel. They are sent as lambs among wolves, without purse or bag or sandals, to proclaim: The Kingdom of God has come near to you. When they return rejoicing that even the demons submit to them in his name, Jesus responds: I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. Every act of the Kingdom, every healing and every proclamation, is a blow struck against the power of the enemy. But Jesus redirects their joy: Do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven. The greatest gift is not power. It is belonging to God.
A lawyer asks Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life, and then, wanting to justify himself, asks: And who is my neighbour? Jesus answers with the parable of the Good Samaritan. A man is beaten and left for dead. A priest passes on the other side. A Levite passes on the other side. A Samaritan, a member of a despised ethnic group considered half-pagan by Jews, stops, tends the wounds, carries him to an inn, pays his care. Jesus asks: which of the three was the neighbour? The answer forces the lawyer to say what he did not want to say: the Samaritan.
St. Augustine read the parable as allegory: the wounded man is every human being, wounded by sin and left for dead; the priest and Levite are the Law and the Prophets, which reveal the wound but cannot heal it; the Samaritan is Christ, who comes from outside the expected categories, stoops down, and pays the cost of our healing with his own blood. Whether or not this is the primary meaning, it is theologically profound. The neighbour is not defined by proximity or ethnicity. The neighbour is whoever is in front of you and in need.
At Bethany, Martha receives Jesus into her home and is distracted by the preparations. Mary sits at the feet of Jesus and listens. Martha complains. Jesus answers: Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed, or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her. The Church has always read this as the relationship between the active and contemplative life. Both are needed. But when forced to choose, the contemplative has priority: all action must flow from sitting at the feet of Christ. A Church that is all Martha and no Mary will burn out. A Church that is all Mary and no Martha will be useless. The order matters: listen first, serve second.
Brothers and sisters, the Good Samaritan did not ask whether the wounded man deserved help. He did not calculate the cost before he stopped. He saw, he was moved with compassion, and he acted. Then he paid the full cost. This is the shape of mercy: seeing, feeling, acting, and paying. Where has God placed a wounded person on your road today?
Lord Jesus, Good Samaritan of our wounded humanity, you stopped for us when we lay beaten by sin. Teach us to stop for others with the same compassion. And in the midst of all our doing and serving, draw us first to sit at your feet, for you are the one thing necessary. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.