The Good Samaritan

As the Parables Bible study folks will tell you, Luke’s gospel has some of the best stories. So this year of reading Luke we get to spend time with several of them, some of them stories that are so familiar they’ve entered our culture and language. The Prodigal Son. The Lost Sheep. Mary and Martha. And today, the Good Samaritan. This is a story so familiar that it’s even given us a law, the Good Samaritan Law, which in the California code reads, No person who in good faith, and not for compensation, renders emergency medical or nonmedical care at the scene of an emergency shall be liable for any civil damages resulting from any act or omission. It’s a law because do-gooders sometimes make mistakes, and yet as the law reads, It is the intent of the Legislature to encourage other individuals to volunteer, without compensation, to assist others in need during an emergency. It’s a law because we assume that most people in the world do want to volunteer, to do good – that it’s a natural human way to be, and we want to encourage people to be human like that.

There’s been a lot of news coverage this week about the terrible flash flooding in Texas. I heard a pastor interviewed who marveled at the outpouring of volunteers and donations for the victims. His church has become a distribution center for supplies and care, and he said, We have people from our church that are literally going down the river with picks and shovels and helping with rescue and recovery. And it's been a very trying time, but it's been beautiful in the aspect of how the community has come together and put all their differences aside and stayed focused on the mission of rescue and recovery... He went on to give an incredible summary of the Christian gospel and how we spread Jesus’ hope and peace in times of suffering – really an amazing witness on secular media. But it struck me that he mentioned specifically ‘coming together and putting differences aside’ – there’s history there, clearly, there’s been dissension, probably political, and maybe bitter too. But in the face of tragedy and need, that doesn’t matter: people help.

The Good Samaritan is a parable that tells of a time someone helped. And the obvious moral of the story is, we should help too. But it’s also a parable of two people who didn’t help. And when you hear a parable, you know there’s always something more in it we’re meant to hear. So what exactly does this story have to tell us today?

The lawyer that inspires this story is asking Jesus a question. But he’s not exactly sitting at Jesus’ feet to learn the answer. He asks in order ‘to test Jesus’ – this is a hostile conversation. And he wants to know, what do I have to do to get eternal life? Jesus first says, well, you read Torah, you know the answer to this. And the lawyer gives a perfect summary of the law, and Jesus says, right, do this and you shall live. In other words, do what the Torah teaches and you will not just ‘get eternal life’ but you will fully live, be fully human. Ignoring that, the lawyer pushes further: Yeah, but who do I have to care for exactly? Who’s my neighbor? Which really means, who is NOT my neighbor – who can I ignore? And then comes the story. After two people who really should do better pass by the suffering, beaten man, the Samaritan helps. Go and do likewise, Jesus says, and that’s the end.

Jesus is being tricky, of course: he leads us through several characters, as if asking which one we identify with most. Are we the victim who falls into the hands of robbers? Well, how awful, no one wants to be a victim. Are we the priest or Levite, heartlessly walking by without turning aside? Of course not, we’d never do that. Ah, well then we must be the helper, the hero of the story who stops to lend a hand. But wait – he’s a Samaritan, one of the despised tribe of the north, a people the Jews counted as enemies. People whose beliefs and practices were all wrong, people who were not be associated with, no matter what. And just as this dawns on the listeners, Jesus wraps up the story and says, go and do likewise. 

We might not like to think so, but sometimes we’re also reluctant to get involved. Our current social climate has us so divided and drawing such sharp lines between us and others. There’s a lack of trust in the world, and that distrust is amplified by our leaders. We’re much less likely to want to risk ourselves for others, or give up our resources. And we’re quite accustomed to naming others as Samaritans – not good Samaritans, either. ‘Those’ people, the ones who believe and think the wrong things, who are in the wrong tribe. It’s hard to see that we have any common interests, let alone responsibility to watch over one another across these divides. Except when something catastrophic happens – then somehow all that other stuff drops away. Then the ‘better angels of our nature’ seem to take over, and we do what’s right. So what about all the other times? Can we be our best selves then too?

Who is your neighbor, Jesus says? Who is being a neighbor to you? The short answer is simple: your neighbor is the one who is right in front of you. Your neighbor is the one who needs your help, and the one coming over to lend you a hand. It’s not just the one who is like you, similar in thought, word, and deed. It is the one who is right there, the one who is affected by you and your actions. Your actual neighbor next door in your neighborhood. Your neighbor that you pass on your way to work, who’s parked next to you at the store. Your neighbor who is serving in the military or in the police department who protects you. Your neighbor who made the clothes you are wearing or grew the food you are eating. Your neighbor who might just be on the other side of all of the cultural divides of our time. Are you caring for them? Are you allowing them to care for you?

Jesus challenges us to realize that all of humanity are our neighbors, regardless of tribe or creed. And lest that get too theoretical, he tells a simple story about what it looks like to love our neighbor as ourselves, about a person who stops and sees a man in the ditch, and responds with mercy and not indifference. Who halts his journey and goes to help, doing what he can to tend his wounds. Who offers his own animal and takes the time to accompany the man to the inn, where he gives his own money for his care, and then involves the innkeeper in the work as well, promising to return and follow up later. And who never seems to think, I’m a Samaritan. Why should I bother helping this Jew? I doubt he’d ever help me.

That’s where the challenge for us lies. Loving your neighbor is less about fondness and common feeling than it is about basic, practical engagement. Getting involved with the other person, being part of their experience, sharing our resources to make their lives better – maybe one to one, face to face; maybe one to many in our area or across the globe, looking out for others, heeding the impact of our actions and choices on others, opting to help even when it goes against our convenience. It’s the very opposite of selfish individualism. It’s building trust with other people. It’s being in relationship as human beings with other human beings. It’s what our neighborhood needs. Our neighborhood, that is, being the whole world. 

Who is our neighbor? Look and see, Jesus tells us. Go and do like the Samaritan. Rebuild the bonds that we need to survive. Drop the artificial boundaries and remember your common humanity. It’s not that hard – and yet it takes everything. As Moses teaches in Deuteronomy, “Surely, this commandment that I am commanding you today is not too hard for you… it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe.” Who is your neighbor? The one who shows mercy. So go and do likewise, and so may we live. Amen.