July 13, 2025: Who is Your Good Samaritan?

WHO IS YOUR GOOD SAMARITAN?

I have the verse of a song I want to share with you:

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore,
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion
A home and a Country should leave us no more?
Their blood has wash'd out their foul footstep's pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave,
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

That’s the third verse of The Star-Spangled Banner. It’s a verse we almost never hear. This past Friday, I had the honor of singing and signing the first verse at the Twins game—what most of us recognize as our National Anthem.

That first verse stirs patriotism and pride. But the third verse? It reveals something troubling—something we usually overlook. Francis Scott Key, a devout church goer, who wrote the words, was a slaveholder who opposed abolition. When he wrote those famous words, “O’er the land of the free,” he didn’t mean freedom for everyone. He meant freedom for white men.

At the time of his writing, which was the War of 1812, many Black slaves escaped and joined the British forces in exchange for a promise of freedom. And Key’s words—“No refuge could save the hireling and slave / From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave”—reflect not sorrow, but satisfaction in their punishment. That line isn't about liberty; it's about putting escaped slaves back in their place.

This doesn’t mean we discard our anthem — not at all. But it does mean that we're invited to engage more honestly with our history, to understand where we’ve come from, and to keep striving to live up to the ideals we cherish: freedom, dignity, and justice for all. This is not a political point — it’s a moral one, and a deeply biblical one. Jesus named it over 2,000 years ago in the parable of the Good Samaritan.

Remember, at that time, Samaritans were seen as untrustworthy outcasts. They were the “wrong kind of people.” And yet, in Jesus’ story, it’s the Samaritan—not the priest or the powerful—who stops to help the wounded man. The “hated-one” becomes the hero. Jesus turns the expected narrative upside-down. He challenges us: Who is your neighbor? Who are you willing to love? And perhaps even more uncomfortably: Who are you tempted to avoid, stereotype, or write off? Who is your modern-day Samaritan?

Ten years ago, Pope Francis addressed a joint session of our US Congress. He began his historic speech by quoting our anthem: “the land of the free and the home of the brave.” And then, with deep compassion, he challenged America to live up to those words—especially in how we treat immigrants and the marginalized.

He reminded Congress, “Most of us were once foreigners,” and called them back to their vocation of public service by invoking the Golden Rule: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

He lifted up four Americans as models of that dream—Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King Jr., Dorothy Day, and Thomas Merton. Each of them represented values like liberty, justice, and spiritual openness. And maybe most importantly, each of them spoke up for those at the bottom.

Now, the issue of immigration, for example, is complex — and we all want to protect our country, our families, and our way of life. Of course we want safety and order. But the Gospel also asks us to avoid blanket judgments. It reminds us that behind every statistic is a human face — a father, a mother, a child.

So the question Jesus puts before us is not a partisan one. It’s deeply personal:

Who is your Samaritan?

Who is the person or group that makes you uncomfortable?

Who do you instinctively dismiss, fear, or ignore?

Sometimes we catch ourselves saying things like:

“I hate people who always hate.” 

“I have no patience for those with no patience.”

“I am so angry at people who are always angry.”

It’s ironic, isn’t it? The very thing we criticize in others often shows up in ourselves. The Gospel invites us to break that cycle — not by ignoring evil or injustice, but by leading with mercy, truth, and humility.

When Jesus tells us to love our neighbor as ourselves, He doesn’t just mean the person next door — or the ones who agree with us. He means everyone, especially those we find hardest to love.

That’s the kind of nation, and the kind of Church, we are called to be: one that honors our values not just in word, but in how we treat those around us — especially the ones we’re tempted to overlook.

So again, I ask you — in the spirit of the Gospel:

Who is your Samaritan?

How can you live out the gospel this week [sing] or’r the land of the free and home of the brave.