This one’s not short, but hey, I’ve been quiescent for a few weeks.
The parable of the good samaritan is one of my favorites so, in light of my preferences in scripture and my proclivities toward grumbling, a few words on sermons given in the parable’s honor.
First, I don’t think the “expert in religious law” (NLT) (the KJV simply has “a certain lawyer,” which I find charming) was a nice guy looking for answers. Rather, he’s a high falutin’ holy-roller looking to exhibit his rhetorical prowess and credentials of righteousness … and he thinks Jesus looks like the perfect patsy. With a few clever questions (let’s not forget he’s a lawyer people), he’ll have Jesus on the mat in no time.
Jesus plays along, confirming that the lawyer’s scriptural knowledge is sound, but the lawyer isn’t satisfied. Instead the lawyer, who is “willing to justify himself, said unto Jesus, And who is my neighbour?” (LK 10:29 KJV) That’s the question that he knows Jesus is gonna fumble. Knowing the Nazarene’s reputation, the lawyer suspects Jesus will answer too inclusively, thereby making himself sound like a bad Jew with a poor sense of nationalistic and religious pride.
In typical fashion, Jesus dodges the question by giving him a hefty helping of pop-psychological and pop-religical advice and leaves it at that. Be compassionate! Don’t worry, I appreciate you! Overcome that inconvenience!
Powerful words.
Or not.
Far be it from me to say that there is one way to read this parable: The whole point of a story, as opposed to a theological treatise, is that there are nearly limitless ways to read it and flesh it out. And one of our problems begins with the one way Christians usually read this parable: They assume it is the good samaritan character to whom they ought to liken themselves. In other words, when Jesus told this story, he had in mind a group of kindly 21st century Christians who would need a little encouragement about being nice to others.
Or not.
What if you are the half-dead man? What if you are the Priest or Levite? What if you are the self-satisfied lawyer? Surprise. You are. And so am I.
Jesus is the good samaritan. Yeah, we’re called to be like him, but we get to be like him by not being shy about knowing where we start from–What Jesus was trying to tell that lawyer: We are the religious muckity mucks thriving on our own righteousness. We are the filthy, beaten man whom only the world’s greatest compassion could bother to love. (There seems to be a juxtaposition of the ugliness of religious pride/satisfaction and the ugliness of lying bleeding and broken in a dirt road). We are the ones in need of a good samaritan.
But we forget. And so long as we forget the kindness done first to us, we lack the resource to return the favor. Self-help advice and strength of will are not sufficient tools for being like Jesus. Rather, a profound sense of gratitude toward God and reliance on his grace are a good place to start.
Maybe that’s where it was all going on Sunday morning. Maybe not. What I know for sure is there is a “Woe to you” message in this parable at least as big as the “Blessed are you” message. In the end, Jesus gently convicts the lawyer of being too willing to see himself as a holy benefactor of others whose largesse justifies his righteousness. He must turn his thinking around and see himself as broken, beaten and poor: He must begin asking not who his neighbor is, but to whom he may become a neighbor by showing grace in the way he himself is so conscious of having first received it.
June 26th, 2006 at 11:44 am
wow, thanks for that. you are right, i have not often heard us likened to the beat up man in the road. and while in the rest of the Bible, Jesus screams “be like me,” it has always seemed like in this story Jesus is saying, “be like that guy.” i feel a little silly telling you that i myself have never thought of relating to the man in the road…i ought to, since if I want to be like the samaritan who was kind to him, i have to consider what receiving that kindness felt like in the first place.
it’s interesting to put myself in the places of the people in the story who one wouldn’t normally want to relate to. why don’t we do that more often? why are we never compared to the robbers who beat him up? or to the donkey the samaritan put him on? or to the inn keeper who didn’t ask any questions, just took the money and did what he was asked? we are a funny people. i think i am much better than i really am.
thank you for this.
June 26th, 2006 at 4:35 pm
I ‘conveniently’ forgot about the robbers, but you’re right.
Henri Nouwen (see Mike’s most recent post) has written a book called “The Return of the Prodigal Son” in which he examines the story by placing himself inside each of the characters. We often see ourselves as the prodigal son returned, but I more often feel like the brother who stayed: a keen sense of injustice and entitlement. The book is WELL worth the read for anyone looking to really understand what being a child of God feels like.
June 26th, 2006 at 5:55 pm
I remember a professor at hope talking about the prodigal son story, and commenting that the story is just as much about the father representing Christ as the prodigal son representing us. He suggested the title in the bible of “The Prodigal Son” should instead be something like “The Prodigal Father.” My point being that you’ve put a great spin on how to read and interpret a story. I like.
June 30th, 2006 at 12:32 am
Quiescent means: Being quiet, still, or at rest; inactive. I looked at this post probably ten times and just ignored that I didn’t know what it meant, so I finally looked it up. HA!