A Psalm of Asaph.
God has taken his place in the divine council;
in the midst of the gods he holds judgment:
“How long will you judge unjustly
and show partiality to the wicked? Selah
Give justice to the weak and the orphan;
maintain the right of the lowly and the destitute.
Rescue the weak and the needy;
deliver them from the hand of the wicked.”They have neither knowledge nor understanding;
they walk around in darkness;
all the foundations of the earth are shaken.I say, “You are gods,
children of the Most High, all of you;
nevertheless, you shall die like mortals
and fall like any prince.”Rise up, O God, judge the earth,
for all the nations belong to you!Psalm 82
An expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” He answered, “You shall 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 your neighbor as yourself.” And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.”
But wanting to vindicate himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and took off, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road, and when he saw him he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan while traveling came upon him, and when he saw him he was moved with compassion. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, treating them with oil and wine. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him, and when I come back I will repay you whatever more you spend.’ Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”
Luke 10:25-37
Consider these verses from Psalm 82: “How long will you judge unjustly and show partiality to the wicked?” asks Psalm 82:2. In the next verse, the weak and the orphan and the lowly and the destitute are not described as objects of pity. Rather, the concern is about giving justice (Psalm 82:3) because injustice has taken root and partiality rules the day. In Psalm 82:4, the intention is to “rescue the weak and the needy” and “deliver them from the hand of the wicked.” Given this long standing biblical tradition that demonstrates a sacred fusion of material and spiritual elements, the ‘material vs. spiritual’ binary is both false and unbiblical. In this light, the essay names two deadly sins: the spiritualization of poverty and the patronization of the needy.
Spiritualization of Poverty
By “spiritualization of poverty,” I refer to the ways in which others’ material needs are framed out (theologically or otherwise) as not meriting a material solution. If you have not heard someone quote Jesus saying “the poor will always be with you” to imply that providing material resources to the poor is secondary to some other superior spiritual thing, then either you are lucky or have not lived long enough. There is a joke that is sometimes shared in Indian church circles. It goes something like this: “If I am hungry, it is a physical problem; if my neighbour is hungry, it is a spiritual problem.” The joke makes fun of Christian hypocrisy with respect to the needs of others.
The pangs of hunger are real. As real as the needs of the poor. Spiritualizing hunger, need, and poverty, therefore, is a sin. Reflecting on such things, Kosuke Koyama (150) cites James Cone who writes, “men dying of hunger, children maimed from rat bites, women dying of despair – and the church passes a resolution.”
I have nothing against resolutions. Speaking out against injustice is necessary. In a climate in which silence and easy complicity are rewarded or enforced, speaking up against evil is vital. Cone’s warning, then, is not about resolutions per se, but rather about the explosion of words in the absence of material action. Have you noticed how in the face of injustice there is often an overabundance of words? We could name any number of issues in our own time in which we have an abundance of resolutions but no real solutions.
The world’s suffering is extraordinary. Neighbourliness is more urgent than ever. If material neighbourliness takes second place and an overabundance of words takes first place, we are in serious trouble. I wonder if upon encountering the wounds of the world, instead of being “moved with compassion” (Luke 10:33), we are “becoming numb” and “scrolling past suffering.” Martin Zeilig named this problematic in a recent opinion piece in the Winnipeg Free Press on June 23, 2025. Are we knee deep in the sin of spiritualization of poverty?
Patronization of the Needy
In my circles, it often happens before a meal. There’s a family get-together and a delicious meal is prepared. Someone prays “God, we thank you for this meal; we remember those who are hungry” and then the group proceeds to eat. What?! I’d call this the patronization of the needy. This kind of remembering the poor is an outcome of the spiritualization of poverty.
When Paul writes in Galatians that the apostles ask him “only one thing,” which is “remember the poor” (Galatians 2:10), the remembrance there is not the kind of remembrance that names the needs of the poor before pigging out on a good meal. Biblical remembrance of the poor is rooted in a material approach to poverty. “Give justice to the weak and the orphan; maintain the right of the lowly and the destitute. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked” (Psalm 82:3-4). In the biblical tradition of remembering the poor as captured in these verses, there is no room for patronization of the poor. The call is material: Give justice. Maintain the rights of the poor. Rescue the weak. Deliver the needy.
Koyama (150) writes, “Shalom requires our active participation. The gospel demands us to give up ‘other-side lifestyle.’ Yet we pass by on the other side quickly. Some of us slowly. Some of us without feeling guilty. Some of us feeling guilty. Some of us confusedly and some of us timidly. But we pass by.” Participation, as Koyama reminds us, resists and exceeds patronization. Koyama argues rightly (156) that “the oppressed want justice not charity” and that a religion that patronizes “will take away the complaints from the poor” and postpone their happiness.
A Revolutionary Neighbourliness?
With good intention but mistaken for its unprecedentedness, the parable of the good Samaritan recorded in Luke 10:25-37 is sometimes taken to be a revolutionary Christian notion of neighbourliness. While actual material neighbourliness is always a revolutionary practice, what I find compelling about the parable is that it stands in a long line of biblical tradition that privileges a spirituality that is not opposed to material care. To the contrary, what is opposed is a spirituality that avoids material care.
The ‘material vs. spiritual’ binary is both false and unbiblical. A revolutionary neighbourliness I’m inviting us to embody, in this light, is not one that takes sophisticated planning. It is simpler than that. It necessitates a revolution of the heart that does not fall into the ‘material vs. spiritual’ trap that often lures religious people into setting up ‘us vs. them’ camps based on whether they deem “material” or “spiritual” as being more important.
The lectionary texts for this week call us to recognize and pursue a spirituality that is holistic; a spirituality that cares for the needs of the poor; a spirituality that takes the side of the needy against the powerful; a spirituality that entails a revolution of the heart; and a spirituality that takes the question of neighbourliness seriously. Such a spirituality would put us on the path of revolutionary neighbourliness.
Revolutionary neighbourliness eschews the two deadly sins: the spiritualization of poverty and the patronization of the needy. Revolutionary neighbourliness stops looking at neighbours through the comfort of windows and instead opens doors—of both heart and home. Revolutionary neighbourliness stops scrolling past suffering and the explosion of words brought to us by increasing access to news and events across the world. Revolutionary neighbourliness stops us from scrolling past or walking by. It stops us. It calls us to slow down. Slow down the speed of our scrolling. Slow down our speed. Revolutionary neighbourliness calls us to walk alongside a Three Mile an Hour God three miles an hour—alongside our neighbours, near and far, slowing down and stopping to live more fully into the biblical tradition of rescuing the weak and the needy while resisting the deadly sins named above. Lest we mistakenly think it is “us” who are the ones rescuing “them,” the story names a precarity that could affect anyone at any time and that the life we live together is lived well when we care for each other.
