Men reach the end of their life, write a third-world charity into their will, and believe that their charitable obligation to their fellow man is fulfilled. But is this actually the case? What does ‘charity’ mean, and who is our ‘neighbor’?
Ill-considered answers to these questions have terrible consequences for our societies and for our souls. And yet there is tremendous pressure on the wealthy to continue down wrong paths, in the form of the ‘Giving Pledge’ and the celebration of celebrities who ‘give it all away’.
Whether you are a Christian or not, it is worth reflecting on Luke 10:25-37 - The Parable of the Good Samaritan - which has become the foundational text upon which the Western understanding of charity is based.
Here is the translation from the New International Version:
On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
“What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?”
He answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”
“You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”
But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”
In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’
“Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”
The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”
Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”
The depth in which this text can be discussed is infinite, so I will not attempt a general commentary on it. But I will note three things which are relevant to our inquiry: the curious word ‘neighbor’, the centrality of ‘love’, and the specific actions undertaken by the Samaritan.
The word we read in English in the parable as ‘neighbor’ is translated from the Greek πλησίος (plesios), which can be translated as ‘near’ or ‘close to.’ Unlike the Hebrew word which appears in the Old Testament and is translated as ‘neighbor’ (רֵעַ - rēa which can be understood as ‘friend’, ‘associate’ or ‘fellow-citizen’ and denotes an existing social relationship), plesios has a definite and integral spatial component (ie. denoting a geographic rather than social relationship). In this context it literally means ‘one who we are physically close to’.
It is strange, then, that this spatial component, which is integral to our English word ‘neighbor’ as well, is often ignored in contemporary discussions of Christian charity. And this spatial component does not just appear in the word plesios - it is more broadly integral to the parable which Jesus provides us with, which tells of a physical encounter which results in moral obligations to those physically present at the scene.
Could this spatial component just be incidental, or unimportant to the heart of Christ’s lesson? Certainly, Jesus is demanding that we expand our concept of who we should be charitable to from ‘just fellow Jews’ to those of other racial and religious backgrounds whom we encounter. This is integral to the story and the chosen language.
But the spatial component cannot be overlooked. Why ‘neighbor’ and not just ‘people’? The reason for this is to be found in the second curiosity of this text: the English word ‘charity’ does not appear at all.
What is charity? Many of us would simply answer ‘giving to others’. But this is wrong. The Christian virtue of ‘charity’ is derived from the Latin ‘caritas’, which is a translation of the Greek ἀγάπη (agapē). Both caritas and agapē mean the same thing: love. Unlike ‘charity’ the word ‘love’, does, of course, appear in the parable.
This is what charity is and always has been: love for our God and the extension of this love to our neighbors and friends. Christ states this plainly in John 15:12-13: “My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”
This is universally understood in rigorous theological traditions. The Catechism of the Catholic Church, for example, states: “Charity is the theological virtue by which we love God above all things for his own sake, and our neighbor as ourselves for the love of God.”
The fundamental distinction between the correct view of ‘charity as love’ and the misguided modern view of ‘charity as merely giving’ is made clear by St. Paul in 1 Corinthians 13:3: “If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.”
In light of the understanding that charity is love, we begin to understand the necessity of the spatial component of the commandment to love our neighbor, as opposed to just ‘people’. We cannot love what we do not know - and we are not God: we do not know everyone.
But our neighbors - people we can meet and know - we can love. Love is a necessarily social virtue. Indeed, even the most provocative of Christ’s charitable commandments, to love our ‘enemy’, is still to love someone who is a personal presence in our lives.
It might be protested that elsewhere in the New Testament, an alternative phrase to ‘neighbor’ is used: the so-called ‘New Commandment’ to love ‘one another’. In John 13:34-35, Jesus states: “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”
Unfortunately for those who would insist that we are called to love everyone, this alternative phrase is actually more restrictive than the ‘neighbor’ designation. The Greek translated into ‘one another’ - ἀλλήλους,
(allēlous) - designates an action done in two directions, indicating mutuality and reciprocity.
This reinforces the social aspect of charity, confirming that love and community are inextricably linked, that a mutual knowing is a necessary component of the virtue. This, of course, does not mean that charity should never be extended to those outside of your personal community, but that an essential part of that charity is to extend your community to encompass them, to enter into a personal relationship of protection and benevolence over them. To know them, to love them, and to earn their love and loyalty.
The combination of these two revelations - the necessity of demonstrating love to those whom one encounters - is reaffirmed by the actions taken by the Samaritan. He does not just travel on and pay someone to come back and save the destitute man. He “went to him”, taking it upon himself to pour on water and wine, and putting him on his “own” donkey. He becomes personally involved, and gets his hands dirty. The relationship becomes a personal one, characterized by love.
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It is here that we see the contradictions which undermine the fundamental premises of ‘effective altruism’, which suggests that it is better to devote one’s resources to the ‘maximally needy’, however distant they may be in space and time (this vagueness justifies investments in ‘responsible AI’ and ‘green technologies’ as paramount charitable endeavors due to the supposed help these will be to unknown people in the future).
The primary exponents of ‘EA’ are so committed to their philosophy that they propose that, in the thought experiment ‘should a man wearing an expensive suit who encounters a drowning child save the child or save his suit and sell it for charity?’, leaving the child to drown is the ‘morally correct choice’ if the donated funds can save two lives elsewhere.
Unfortunately, such a position is not sustainable, because it is completely devoid of love - either for our God or for the people whom we encounter. And without love, without caritas, it is only a matter of time before we realize that there is no reason for us to have obligations to others at all.
PROJECT UPDATE
Last week I published a philosophical defense of the morality of prioritizing one’s own. This week I publish the theological defense above. The addition of these two sections takes us over the halfway point to the completion of the necessary material for my upcoming book “Leaving a Legacy”.
The rough chapters will be as follows:
Introduction: Don’t surrender your family’s wealth to the charity industry. Make a real difference: establish a virtuous dynasty.
A theological defense of prioritizing one’s own family and people (drawing upon this post).
An agnostic philosophical defense of prioritizing one’s own family and people (drawing upon Aristotle and my last post).
A practical defense of prioritizing one’s own family and people, drawing upon the evidence that throwing money at far off problems hurts rather than helps (upcoming).
Rebutting the nihilism of the ‘Die with Nothing’ / spend-it-all philosophy which is surprisingly common amongst the Baby Boomers (upcoming).
Rebutting the ‘if I lead my children a fortune they will be idle’ argument (drawing upon ‘The rich should leave their wealth to their children, not to charity’).
How to raise a family capable and worthy of inheriting and stewarding a fortune (drawing upon ‘Raising children worthy of empires’).
An alternative vision of charity which focuses on the leadership in the physical and spiritual health of one’s family and community, highlighting local problems (meaninglessness, obesity, ugliness of environment, social fragmentation…) and the path a noble family would chart in countering them (upcoming).
My hope is that I can get all of this wrapped up and the book published within the next 6-8 weeks. If there’s anything missing in the above outline which you want to see included, please leave a comment below.
Hopefully everyone is enjoying this unexpected Becoming Noble story arc, but if you’re not - fear not, we’ll soon be back to violence, adventure, and commentary on esoteric, suspiciously right-wing texts.
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Sic transit imperium,
Johann
Quality article as always Johann. The parable of the Good Samaritan emphasizes that your neighbor can be anyone, not that it is everyone. This also lends to the Catholic social teaching principle of subsidiarity quite nicely as well as a foundational Christian principle.
I have lamented many times; we should not be looking for "good deeds" to do. God brings the good works he planned for us right to us; like the Samaritan, laying them at our feet. So called "charities", many of whom are complete shams, allow us to ignore our neighbor while simultaneously fanning the self righteous ideas we have of ourselves. One of the ways I have chosen to combat this is every year at the holidays, I ask the clergy of a few solid bible teachin churches in my town for the names of two families in their congregation who are really struggling. I then buy money orders that are anonymously given to them. We can always find ways to be loving to our neighbors. Charities are the worst way.