Those of you who have been around the monks since Thursday would have heard a lot about St Benedict, since Benedictines worldwide celebrated his Feast Day on Friday, the 11th of July. I won’t repeat all that was said, except that he lived in very turbulent times in 6th century Italy and was fairly disgusted by the way society had collapsed around him. Sounds familiar? Except, unlike us, he withdrew to a cave to find himself and, fortunately for us, he found so much more than just himself.
So, as a Benedictine monk, with the above in mind, I pondered what St Benedict would have to say to us in today’s world about today’s Gospel reading. My guess is, as in all things, he would have admonished the example of Jesus, and of course, prayer.
Let us then look at this familiar story of the Good Samaritan and see how it challenges us to live out our faith with love and compassion, and how St Benedict might lead us in a way of life grounded in humility, community, and attentive listening to God and neighbour.
In the Gospel, a lawyer approaches Jesus with a question: “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus, as ever the one with who answers questions with questions, turns the question back to him, asking what the Law says. The lawyer responds, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, strength, and mind, and your neighbour as yourself.” Jesus affirms this, but the lawyer, probably trying to avoid accountability, asks, “And who is my neighbour?” In response, Jesus tells the parable of the Good Samaritan, a story that cuts through self-justification and reveals the heart of God’s call to love. In the parable, a man is beaten, robbed, and left half-dead on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho. A priest and a Levite, religious figures of the time, pass by without helping.
But a Samaritan, an outsider despised by the Jewish people, stops. He tends the man’s wounds, brings him to an inn, and pays for his care. Jesus then asks, “Which of these was a neighbour to the man?” The lawyer answers, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus replies, “Go and do likewise.”
This story speaks powerfully to us today, and Benedictine spirituality offers us a framework to live out the message of the Good Samaritan. The Rule of St. Benedict, written over 1,500 years ago, emphasizes three key practices: humility, hospitality, and stability, which help us embody the love of neighbour Jesus calls us to in this parable.
First, let’s consider humility.
In the Rule, Benedict describes humility as a ladder with twelve steps, beginning with recognizing God’s presence in every moment and culminating in a heart transformed by love. The Samaritan in the parable embodies this humility. He doesn’t see himself as above the wounded man, despite their cultural divide. He kneels to bind wounds, risking his own safety and reputation. The priest and Levite, perhaps caught up in their status, pass by. They prioritize self-preservation over compassion. Humility, in Benedictine terms, calls us to set aside our pride, our schedules, our prejudices, and to see the person in front of us as a child of God, worthy of our care.
For us, this might mean pausing to listen to a coworker in distress, helping a stranger despite inconvenience, or challenging our assumptions about those we’re tempted to ignore.
Second, Benedictine spirituality teaches hospitality. Benedict instructs his monks to receive every guest as Christ himself, saying, “All guests who present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ, for he himself will say: ‘I was a stranger, and you welcomed me’” (RB53).
The Samaritan practices radical hospitality. He doesn’t just offer a quick bandage; he invests time, money, and care, ensuring the man’s recovery. In our world, hospitality might look like welcoming a new neighbour, advocating for the marginalized, or simply offering a kind word to someone who feels unseen. For us here today, this call to hospitality invites us to create spaces where everyone belongs, where no one is “other.“
Finally, the Benedictine vow of stability anchors us in this parable’s challenge. Stability means committing to a community, staying present even when it’s hard. The Samaritan doesn’t just help and leave; he commits to the man’s care, promising to return and settle any debts. In our fast-paced, transient culture, stability calls us to be present; to our families or those near and dear to us, but to everyone that we encounter.
It’s showing up for the person who needs us, not just once, but consistently. It’s choosing to love, even when it’s messy or inconvenient, because that’s what neighbours do.
Ah, we’ve just heard that magic word: Love! As St Paul reminds us in Corinthians, if we don’t have love, we have nothing, basically. Imagine if love was as easy as hate. The world would have been one big, happy kumbaya. However, sadly it’s not. Love is hard, and we often stumble over and under it. Fortunately, we have another piece of monastic cliché to help us out here. In answer to the question of what monks do, an old monk said that we fall, and we get up, and we fall, and we get up…it’s not so much about the falling, but it is about the getting up. Another piece of stability.
But let’s get back to the neighbour. So, who is our neighbour?
Jesus’ parable tells us it’s not just those who look like us, believe like us, or live near us. Our neighbour is anyone in need, anyone God places in our path. Benedictine spirituality gives us tools to respond: humility to see others as Christ sees them, hospitality to welcome them as Christ himself, and stability to commit to their care with steadfast love.
So, let us ask ourselves: Who is the wounded traveller in my life right now? Maybe it’s a family member struggling silently, a coworker facing hardship, or a stranger we’ve been conditioned to overlook. How can I be a neighbour, showing mercy as the Samaritan did? In the spirit of St. Benedict, may we listen with the ear of our heart, act with compassion, and remain faithful to the call to love God and neighbour. “Go and do likewise,” Jesus says. May we go, with God’s grace, and live this love in our world.