The φιλότιμος Samaritan – a Sermon
There are different ways of reading and reacting to today’s Gospel parable of the Good Samaritan. One can feel very inadequate when comparing oneself to the Samaritan. One can feel cynical, thinking how irrelevant this parable is to today, when we have to be more careful about who we help and who we let into the country. And then there’s the possibility that one might react with joy at the φιλότιμο of the Samaritan.
I had an interesting conversation with three others about philotimo yesterday at the dinner after the funeral of Ruth Kazanzides. And then it occurred to me that the Samaritan in today’s parable is a philotimos, a man of philotimo. Philotimo is a wonderful Greek word that cannot be translated. It just can’t be translated! It consists of two words: philo – which means like, love – and timo/timi, which means honor. So some English translations make it ‘sense of honor’ or ‘love of honor’. Nice, but that’s not what it means in Greek – or how it’s used by Greek people. It’s a word that perhaps encapsulates all that’s best about Greek ways and Greek character. It includes the idea of dignity, generosity, freedom to give and share oneself. It is certainly a word I would use to describe the Samaritan in today’s Gospel parable.
And here’s where joy comes in as an antidote to the miserly reaction that some might have to the teaching of this parable. The Samaritan acted spontaneously with total freedom. A person with philotimo is the freest person on earth, not encumbered by prejudices and fears or social norms. He took the wounded man, carried him to the nearest inn, checked him in to a room at the inn, paid in advance what his stay at the inn would cost, and promised to come back. This is so far from what most people would do today, that it is no surprise that people would take a cynical attitude to the parable.
So here is how I interpret the word philotimo. Yes it is love of honor – but I say it is love of the other person’s honor!!! In the case of today’s parable, the love of the wounded man’s honor. People like to talk about honor – but usually it’s about defending one’s own honor or the honor of one’s family. That’s not philotimo. Philotimo is all about the other person’s honor. So when you are out to dinner with a friend and you make the move to pay, you are honoring the other person. And that is one of the most common ways that Greeks show philotimo – when they make the move to pay, without asking or thinking whose turn it is. That thought doesn’t enter the mind of a philotimos. Just as a person with philotimo doesn’t say, “you owe me” or “I owe you.” That’s transactional language, the language of deals. A person of philotimo does not make deals, does not say you owe me. And there is joy and freedom when you act with philotimo.
I personally don’t know anyone in Greece who does not have philotimo, even the poorest of my relatives or friends. And I know that there are many in the U.S. and Canada who have philotimo but don’t know it, because there is no English word for it. It’s too bad, because if there is one thing that we need in the world today it’s philotimo. If there was more of it we’d be more caring toward each other, more accepting of people who are not like us, more giving, more joyful…. Oh wait. What am I actually describing here? I’m describing Christianity. We’d be more Christian, more the type of people Jesus wants us to be.
In many icons of the Good Samaritan, Jesus is portrayed as the Samaritan. But we can also imagine Jesus as the wounded man. This is about as deep as one can venture to understand who Jesus is. He is the wounded healer. He is the healer who is also the one who reaches out to make us healers! This is as profound a thing as I can say this morning.
Yesterday I had a chance to hear a performance of Beethoven’s Eroica Symphony – the 3rd Symphony – in a recording by a Venezuelan orchestra, the Carabobo Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Eduardo Chibás. The Eroica is one of Beethoven’s greatest works. It was originally dedicated to Napoleon. Beethoven was a fervent democrat and believer in freedom, and he believed that Napoleon embodied the democratic ideals of the French Revolution. But when Napoleon declared himself emperor Beethoven tore out the dedication to Napoleon and retitled the Symphony, ‘Eroica’ – a Heroic Symphony. And heroic it is. A first movement that is truly heroic and dramatic is followed by a towering second movement that Beethoven titled a funeral march. A shorter scherzo movement that is full of lively energy is followed by the Finale, which is a set of variations. This is the movement that I always look forward to. It is so full of joy and dance-like rhythms, especially when it takes off in the sixth variation. In a good performance, it lifts me to joyful rapture, and this performance by Chibás did that like few performances do. Perhaps because he and the orchestra have a Latin American feel for dance and joy.
You can hear the Finale of the Eroica in the recording by Eduardo Chibás by clicking here. The sixth variation that I refer to begins after the 4-minute mark. But it is best to listen from the start of the Finale and hear how Beethoven builds the variations.
But like today’s parable, the Eroica Symphony captures the many dimensions of human existence, from grandeur and seriousness to joyful abandon. This is Beethoven’s philotimo, his gift to us. His greatest works, his most serious works, end in exaltation and unbridled joy – the Eroica, the 5th and 9th, his opera Fidelio, and so many more of his masterpieces. The parable today tells us the same tale. Life is serious and our actions or missed actions are all serious, with consequences. But if we give ourselves the freedom to act with philotimo, there is joy beyond measure. Today’s parable is a tale of joy – the joy of the Samaritan, the joy of the wounded man, the joy of Christ in sharing this story with us, and the joy with which our spirits are lifted as we hear this story of healing and rescue. It is our story as well. As we open our hearts to others we are rewarded with release from our own narrow interests and we ourselves are healed in the process of helping to heal others. And then our spirits dance with the Creatures of Prometheus in the Eroica Symphony’s Finale. Our lives can be heroic if we take the parable of the Good Samaritan to heart.