This Sunday we read the Parable of the Good Samaritan found in Luke 10:25-37
Just then a lawyer 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 neighbour as yourself.’ And he said to him, ‘You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.’
But wanting to justify 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 went away, 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 travelling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. He went to him 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. 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.’
I have heard so many sermons based on the notion that the priest and the Levite were legalistic and thus would not touch the half dead man because he was unclean that I looked around for another point of view and found one from Ian Paul in "Seven surprising things about the Good Samaritan in Luke 10".
"... it occurs to me that there are a number of common misuses of this text.
- Antinomianism: ‘Jesus wanted to do away with legalism and the Mosaic law; in the end, all that matters is caring for people’.
- Reductionism: ‘Jesus only gave us two commandments, and both of them were positive’.
- Moral ‘oughterism’: ‘Jesus told us that we ought to care for people, so this I what we ought to do.’
- Liberal inclusivism: ‘The parable uses a despised outsider as the model of right action, so the truth is found in the lives of the marginalised.’"
"...The parable has been interpreted in a wide range of different ways, and one of the best known (though least persuasive for modern readers) is the allegorical reading first proposed by Origen:
The man who was going down is Adam. Jerusalem is paradise, and Jericho is the world. The robbers are hostile powers. The priest is the Law, the Levite is the prophets, and the Samaritan is Christ. The wounds are disobedience, the beast is the Lord’s body, the [inn], which accepts all who wish to enter, is the Church. … The manager of the [inn] is the head of the Church, to whom its care has been entrusted. And the fact that the Samaritan promises he will return represents the Savior’s second coming. (Homily 34.3)
This reading was virtually universal throughout early Christianity, being advocated by Irenaeus, Clement as well as Origen, and in the fourth and fifth centuries by Chrysostom in Constantinople, Ambrose in Milan, and Augustine of Hippo—whose version is perhaps best known:
A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho; Adam himself is meant; Jerusalem is the heavenly city of peace, from whose blessedness Adam fell; Jericho means the moon, and signifies our mortality, because it is born, waxes, wanes, an dies. Thieves are the devil and his angels. Who stripped him, namely; of his immortality; and beat him, by persuading him to sin; and left him half-dead, because in so far as man can understand and know God, he lives, but in so far as he is wasted and oppressed by sin, he is dead; he is therefore called half-dead. The priest and the Levite who saw him and passed by, signify the priesthood and ministry of the Old Testament which could profit nothing for salvation. Samaritan means Guardian, and therefore the Lord Himself is signified by this name. The binding of the wounds is the restraint of sin. Oil is the comfort of good hope; wine the exhortation to work with fervent spirit. The beast is the flesh in which He deigned to come to us. The being set upon the beast is belief in the incarnation of Christ. The inn is the Church, where travelers returning to their heavenly country are refreshed after pilgrimage. The morrow is after the resurrection of the Lord. The two pence are either the two precepts of love, or the promise of this life and of that which is to come.
There are all sorts of problems with this approach to the text, not least that it appears to have little connection with what Jesus actually meant, but also that it appears to annul the moral imperative. But the modern reaction to such a reading is to head in the opposite direction, and reduce the impact to mere practical morality, devoid of any Christological significance and detached from what the rest of the New Testament says about sin, atonement and ethics.
In fact, Luke’s careful approach to numerical composition helps us here. The turning point of the story is that the Samaritan sees the man, and is ‘moved with compassion’ (some ETs blunt this a little by saying ‘had pity on him’). The Greek term here, splagchnizomai, ‘literally’ means ‘his bowels were moved’ (hence the AV translates the cognate term in Phil 1.8 ‘I yearn for you with the bowels of Christ’). This term only occurs three times in Luke’s gospel:
- Luke 7.13 The raising of the widow’s son
- Luke 10.33 The parable of the man who fell among thieves
- Luke 15.20 The parable of the two sons and the forgiving father
And in each case, not only is this verb the narrative turning point of the story—it is also the word which is numerically at the centre of each pericope, with an equal number of words before and after this term, to emphasize its importance. (This also tells us something about the care with which Luke has composed his gospel!).
And the striking thing is that, in the other two instances, it is Jesus who is moved to compassionate action. This implies that, whilst the allegorical reading has major problems, it has at least noted one thing of importance: it is the Samaritan who is taking the part of Jesus in the story. We might want, then, to reflect further and understand theologically that, beaten and bruised as we have been by sin, it is Jesus who has refused to pass by on the other side, but who has brought us help and healing by paying the price that was needed for us.
This is not to rob the story (pun not intended!) of its moral force—but it shifts the register. We do not help others because we ‘ought’ to, but because we have received for ourselves from Jesus the life-changing compassion which we then share with those around us, as part of sharing the love of God in word and deed."