“To Whom Will I Be a Neighbor?”
(Luke 10:25-37)
The Greenhouse ~ 9th Sunday after Trinity
In his excellent book, Everything Sad Is Untrue, Daniel Nayeri tells the reader a story, a beautiful story, about his life, but also about so much more. During the course of his storytelling, he casts himself in the role of Sheherazade in 1001 Nights who told the king a story each night in order to stay alive. He comments, “Every story is the sound of a storyteller begging to stay alive.” In general, I think Nayeri is right. We tell stories so that we might be known as human beings. Stories humanize us, our listeners, and the characters of the story, whether those characters are present, past, or even fictional. But there is one occasion where Nayeri’s comment causes me to pause: Jesus told stories on the road to His death. In fact, Eugene Peterson points out in his book Tell It Slant that Jesus speaks almost entirely in stories in Luke’s gospel on the road to His death. Jesus is not telling stories to stay alive; He is telling stories with a full knowledge that they will lead to His death. And yet, these stories live on because Jesus Himself lives on. Yes, He does follow that road to Jerusalem to His death, but He does not stay dead. On the third day, Jesus rose from the dead and remains resurrected, the firstfruits, the model, and the hope for our own resurrection in the future. And the stories Jesus tells, especially those on the road to His death, ought to live on in the hearts and minds and lives of those who follow Him.
So, we turn today to Luke 10 and the parable of the Good Samaritan. The context in which this story is told is almost as interesting as the story itself. A lawyer asks Jesus a question. Jesus, as he often does, responds with his own question, turning the question around on the lawyer. When the lawyer answers with loving God and loving neighbor, drawn from Deuteronomy 6 and Leviticus 19, Jesus tells him he has answered correctly. We don’t know all that is going on in the mind of the lawyer at this point, but the text does tell us that the man desired to justify himself. Perhaps he is trying to trap Jesus, perhaps he is trying to regain prestige by asking a question that would lead to a lengthy debate, or perhaps he is reeling and saying the first thing that comes to mind. Regardless, his response seeks to justify himself in the eyes of those present.
As Jesus so often does, he replies with a story.[1] He tells the story that has come to be known as the parable of the Good Samaritan. The story tells of a certain man who is traveling the Jerusalem-Jericho road that Jesus is currently traveling. He is beaten and left for dead by robbers, and his only hope is that another traveler will take pity upon him and help. A priest then a Levite both see, cross over to the other side, and pass by without helping. A Samaritan, however, sees and responds in compassion. He not only stops to help, but sacrifices time, money, and effort in the process.
With familiar stories such as this one, there are three dangers present. First, we can fail to look closely at the text; because it is so familiar, we often read with the assumption that we understand and move on unchanged. Second, a related mistake is to believe certain things about the text because one has heard them frequently, but one fails to study the text to see if these interpretations are correct. Third, many, often in a well-meaning effort to avoid the first two mistakes, try to create clever, fresh interpretations of the text. Let me explore each of these briefly with respect to this text.
First, we can indeed overlook the transformative value of such a text because it is familiar. For example, before looking back at the text, what question is this text answering? We are tempted to assume that Jesus’ story answers the question, “Who is my neighbor?” That is the question that is asked, after all, and to some extent Jesus does answer this question. But now look back at the text again. What question does Jesus ask after telling this story? “Which of these three do you think proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” (v. 26). There is a subtle difference. Jesus’ question is not an abstract definition of who or what a neighbor is; Jesus’ question is a concrete example of what a neighbor does. Consider the context of the story. The lawyer does not ask who is the one who will inherit eternal life, but rather, what must I do to inherit eternal life. This is not some form of works righteousness, but it provides a clear example that our hearts are known by their fruit, by what we do. Jesus confirms this after the lawyer rightly identifies the Samaritan as the good neighbor. Jesus says, “Go and do the same.”
Second, one of the more frequently quoted aspects of this story is how the priest and the Levite could not touch this man without becoming ritually unclean. This is true. But what often follows is an attempt to make these men out to be the most cold, heartless people possible. The problem, however, is that most of us don’t see ourselves in the cold, heartless villain, but we certainly are supposed to see ourselves in the priest and the Levite. Rather, if we focus on the ritual uncleanness in another way, I think we come to a better understanding. The priest and Levite had a duty to be ritually clean. Their “jobs,” their religious vocations, required them to be such. Rather than casting them as the most evil villains possible, what if we saw them as everyday humans faced with a difficult choice between two duties: the duty to be ritually clean and the duty to love one’s neighbor, to care for those who cannot care for themselves? Now I see myself pretty clearly in the face of the priest and the Levite, and I should take a good look in the mirror and see what needs to change.
Third, we could be tempted to do some fanciful reading here to make the text more exciting, fresher in our eyes. But I don’t think that’s a good practice, nor is it necessary for us to do this in order to find transformative truth. A careful, faithful reading leaves us with a question that can more than occupy our attention for years. Rather than asking “Who is my neighbor?”, to which the answer is, anyone and everyone, we should ask “To whom will I be a neighbor?” Decide from the outset that we desire to be changed by Jesus’ words to live differently, and this text becomes a great example of how our perspective can be changed. When I see another human being in need, do I see them as my neighbor who is worthy of compassion and love? If not, then Jesus is telling us that we have work to do on our heart. When I am confronted with competing duties, do I cross over and ignore the dilemma, or do I prayerfully seek the godly solution?
As hard as it would be for a Jew to give credit to a Samaritan, this Jewish lawyer rightly answers that the Samaritan who showed mercy was the true neighbor. The inclusion of the Samaritan is not to produce shame in the lawyer, but rather to demonstrate as decisively as possible that loving one’s neighbor is about the compassionate, merciful act of love and not a definition based on nationality, race, social status, or any other earthly means of differentiating God’s image bearers. Perhaps this a lesson for us who have a tendency to act in love towards those who are like us, but to act with less kindness, mercy, or compassion towards those of a different race, social status, or nationality.
Our world is full of such discrimination, but it can have no part in the church, which is a people of every tribe, tongue, nation, race, and social class united in our common allegiance to Jesus our King. Therefore, let us be a people who live with compassion, caring for the needy, and loving our neighbors as ourselves. Amen.
Discussion Questions
What preconceptions did you have about this story coming into today?
What questions do you still have?
How might we “recast” this story today? Who are the Priest, the Levite, and the Samaritan in our context?
Why is it challenging to look at our neighbor with compassion?
What can help us cultivate this love and compassion?
[1]As a quick side note, read the gospels and see how much of Jesus’ speech is questions and stories—it’s astonishing.
Feature Image: Stained-glass window at Good Samaritan Hospital Medical Center on World Day of the Sick, Feb. 11, 2021, in West Islip, New York. (CNS/Gregory A. Shemitz)
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