The parable of the Good
Samaritan is the most popular and referenced parable in the Gospels. I searched for “Good Samaritan” on Google and
got over 11 million hits, few or which actually refer to the Bible story itself. They don’t have to, everyone knows the
story. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of
hospitals, roadside service organizations and others have taken the name “Good
Samaritan.”
Yet, in some sense, by
doing this, we have “tamed” the parable, laying aside its power and depth. We see the Good Samaritan as just a nice guy
who helps out people in trouble as best he can.
The lesson we learn is simple – be nice like the Samaritan, particularly
when you see that others that need your help.
There is so much more.
Like most of the parables
in Luke’s gospel – stories which go beyond the simple parable and become rich,
allegorical lessons – the setting of the story is a key to understanding its
purpose and its teaching.
A scribe – an expert in the
Jewish law – asks Jesus what he must do inherit eternal life. Rightly, Jesus turns the question back to the
law itself, asking the scribe how he reads the law. This was a standard exercise is Jewish
teaching, for the Law was considered God’s divine word, and following it was
considered the path to righteousness.
Yet often the Law would need to be interpreted to meet changing
conditions. Compromises would have to be
drawn when parts of the law would conflict with other parts in a particular
situation, with priority given to those laws which ranked higher in
importance. The scribe answers
well. He cites the Shema – love God with
you whole heart, your whole soul and your whole strength, and connects this
love of God with love of neighbor and love of self. Jesus agrees with the scribe, yet the scribe
insists on further definition, further parsing of what is necessary for eternal
life. Who is this neighbor I am to love
as I love myself, as I love God?
Jesus sees that a simple
discussion of semantics will not do – the scribe needs a story to truly
understand the depth of what is required to fulfill the law, to realize the
eternal life which Jesus – the incarnate Word of God – offers to each of us.
Jesus shocks the scribe by
using a Samaritan as the hero of his story, for the Jews and the Samaritans
hated each other. Though they shared
much history, they considered each other as apostates to true faith in God, as blood
enemies. They jealously protected their
“turf” much as modern day gangs do today.
Jews and Samaritans were the Crips and the Bloods, the Jets and the
Sharks of their day. The scribe’s
discomfort can be seen in his reply when asked to identify the “neighbor.” He cannot even mouth the word “Samaritan,”
simply stating that the one who showed mercy was the neighbor.
But there is more. Why did the Samaritan come to the man’s
aid? After all, he had plenty of reasons
to pass by. For some reason, he was in
enemy territory and had to be wary of attacks himself. If someone saw him tending to the man, they
would have assumed he was the attacker.
What good would that do? And how
much could he possibly do anyways? The
man will probably die no matter what.
I can easily picture this
conversation in the Samaritan’s head for that same conversation has often
coursed through my own mind. I have
often rationalized why I should not help some beggar in the street, or some poor
soul that looks like they could use my help.
I’m really busy now. I’ll be late
if I stop. If I give him something,
he’ll just waste it. I can’t give much
anyways. What good would my little bit
do? What if this is just a trick to cheat me of my money? Shouldn’t he try harder to get a job? What if I try to help and something goes
wrong? Can I be sued? And the rationalization goes on and on.
Yet for the Samaritan, my
rationalization is meaningless, for he is “moved with compassion” at the sight
of the wounded man. The Greek work that
Luke uses here is the same word he uses to describe Jesus’ reaction at the
sight of the funeral procession for the only son of the widow of Nain. The Samaritan doesn’t act like me, he acts
like Jesus. He is driven to act by love
in his heart. Moses tells us today (Dt
30:10-14) that God’s law is not something esoteric, inaccessible or far removed
from us – it is in our hearts.
That is why, when faced
with one who desperately needs my help, my mind has to work overtime to
rationalize away the demands of my heart.
But there is more. Before the Samaritan comes on the scene, a
priest and a Levite come across the man.
They don’t help. In fact, they
both “cross on the opposite side” to avoid the man. Why this detail? Is Jesus just taking a cheap shot at the
pretentiousness or hypocrisy of the clergy?
Not really. He is simply showing
what happens when we misinterpret the law.
The priest and the Levite were bound by the purity laws concerning
worship at the temple. Contact with a
dead human body – even being within four feet of a dead human body – would have
made them ritually unclean. They would
not have been able to fulfill their responsibilities in the sacrifice at the
Temple – and that was their job. And it
was an important job, a holy job – it was all about showing love to God. Hence, their reading of the law not only
prevented them from offering help, it insisted that they “cross to the opposite
side” to avoid even the hint of impurity.
They were not evil; they simply misunderstood the primacy of the law of
love. They didn’t get the intimate and
unbreakable connection between love of God and love of neighbor.
The parable teaches me that
I should be “moved with compassion” at the sight of human need, that my love of
God is meaningless until it is reflected in my love of neighbor, and that my
neighbor includes all people, even those whose name I cannot speak. The Samaritan is not simply good; he is holy,
for he acts as Jesus does; he acts with Jesus’ love.
Jesus says to the scribe,
as he says to me, as he says to you, “Go and do likewise.”
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