July
11, 2010, Luke 10:25-37, The Good Samaritan
Today we are considering Jesus’ Parable of the Good
Samaritan. In our world, from the perspective of an Israeli living in modern
In Jesus’ day, the Jews, as John’s Gospel reminds us, “do
not share things in common with Samaritans” (Jn. 4:9b NRSV). The older
translation put it more bluntly, “the Jews have no dealings with the
Samaritans” (Jn 4:9b AV/KJV). John’s verb means “have dealings with,” “associate” (F. W. Danker, The Concise Greek-English Lexicon of the New
Testament, 2009, s.v. sugcravomai, sygchraomai). The
Samaritans of Jesus’ day claimed descent from ancient
The context of this
story in Luke’s Gospel is significant. While Jesus was teaching the crowds, “a
lawyer stood up to test Jesus. ‘Teacher,’ he said, ‘what must I do to inherit
eternal life?’ ” (Lk. 10:25). The exchange that
follows resembles Jesus answer to the question about “the great commandment”
during his final week in
So, from the context of
the lawyer’s question and Jesus’ response, we can understand the Parable of the
Good Samaritan as an example of keeping the commandment to “love your neighbor
as yourself” (Lev. 19:18), which is related, of course to loving God with one’s
whole being (Deut. 6:5).When Jesus commends the lawyer’s answer, “You have
given the right answer; do this, and you will live” (Lk. 10:28), the lawyer
follows with another question, “And who is my neighbor?” In Leviticus, the
command to love one’s neighbor apparently meant, in the first place, “Love your
family, your fellow Israelites.” “You shall not hate in your heart anyone of
your kin,” says Moses; you shall reprove your neighbor, or you will incur guilt
yourself. You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your
people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the LORD” (Lev.
19:17-18). I was glad to see that later in the chapter,
this focus on one’s family and Israelite neighbors was expanded. “When an alien
resides with you in your land, you shall not oppress the alien. The alien who
resides with you shall be to you as the citizen among you; you shall love the
alien as yourself, for you were aliens in the
In Jesus’ story, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to
Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and
went away, leaving him half dead” (Lk. 10:30). According to David L. Tiede,
revised by Christopher R. Matthews, “The road down from
The Samaritan, on the other hand, “while traveling came
near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity” (Lk. 10:33). Jesus’
story presents a clear picture of human need—severe human need in this case—and
the call for us, those aware of the need and with the means to do something
about it, to find answers to needy human conditions wherever we find them,
genocide, starvation, disease, state-sponsored terrorism, homeless people, and
so forth.
The Samaritan went to the fallen man “and bandaged his
wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him
on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him” (Lk. 10:34).
“The next day,” says Jesus, the Samaritan “took out two denarii [two coins,
each representing a day’s wage for a laborer], gave them to the innkeeper, and
said, ‘Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more
you spend’ ” (Lk. 10:35). So the Samaritan paid the innkeeper for two
day’s work, and promised more, as needed, upon his return. And Jesus makes his
point by asking a question with what would seem to be an obvious answer. “Which
of these three, do you think,” he asks, “was a neighbor to the man who fell
into the hands of the robbers?” The lawyer who first asked
the question, “And who is my neighbor?” (Lk. 10:29), gives the expected
answer: “The one who showed him mercy. And,” says Luke,
“Jesus said to him, ‘Go and do likewise’ ” (v. 37).
Michael
Gourgues, (
Had Jesus addressed the question as it existed in the
mind of the lawyer, Luke’s narrative would have introduced the variant on the
side of the victim and not on the side of the passers-by. Love of neighbor, as
it was then understood, was to be exercised toward priests, Levites, and true
members of
So why a priest and a Levite? Perhaps the simplest explanation is sociological in
nature. The two characters whom the example story of
the Good Samaritan first puts on the scene belong to the first two categories
of the social hierarchy that dominated post-exilic Judaism. “The
priests, the Levites, and all the people of
Paradox of paradoxes, it is the Samaritan who, by
means of a reversal of roles, becomes the very model of neighborly love. (ibid., 713)
Jeanne Stevenson Moessner (Columbia Theological Seminary,
In our customary way of reading the Good Samaritan
text, women have not acknowledged a crucial aspect to the passage, an aspect so
significant that it shatters previous interpretations. The Samaritan finished
the journey. The Samaritan finished the journey while meeting the need of a
wounded and marginal person. “The Samaritan does not give everything away; in
this enigmatic parable, he did not injure, hurt, or neglect the self. He loved
himself, and he loved his neighbor.” This balance in the care of self/care of
other is a difficult balance for many. It is often women who have excelled in
the care of the other. To be able to care for another (others) and to be able
to finish one’s journey in life is a message to be proclaimed from the pulpit. (ibid., p. 22).
Moessner adds other perspectives, for example:
In
application and extension of the “inn” in ministry, the inn may be a support
group, a battered women’s shelter, a halfway house, a hospital, a rape crisis
center, therapy, a pastoral counseling center, a
specialized support group such as Bosom Buddies or Resolve or AA. The inn may
be the church. . . . In an exegetical attempt to understand the inn in Luke 10,
commentators do agree that the inn was a temporary lodging place, a place where
a journeying person found room for the night. This night can surely include the
“night of the soul,” a place of struggle and despair. Preaching the Good
Samaritan from a feminist perspective brings to the pulpit an awareness of a
sense of teamwork and community in ministry and healing. At a minimum, from the
sermon itself, a pastor can describe the inn and give directions. (ibid., p. 23).
In
Amen.