The Good, the Bad, and the Unexpected (Luke 10:25-37)

When some folks heard the Gospel reading this morning, you might have thought, “Oh, the Good Samaritan!  I know this story!”  The parable rates high on the list of “most remembered” parables.   Most of us grew up with this story, oft told from the pulpit, the Sunday school classroom, and perhaps even over a glass of Kool-Aid at VBS story-time.  Out in the greater society, folks who could not recall the parable know the Good Samaritan.  Type “Samaritan” into Google, and a biblical reference site pops up first, followed by several links to a variety of humanitarian agencies, hospitals, and other charitable organizations.  Lots of non-profit, civic and religious groups want to be closely associated with the “goodness” of this parable about a Samaritan who finds a man left for dead in a ditch along the way to Jericho.

The parable itself is quite unique.  In fact, among all of the parables Jesus told as recorded by the four gospels, this particular parable is only one of four parables that stand in a class of their own.  Among parables scholars, the Good Samaritan is grouped together with the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus the poor beggar, the parable about the rich fool, and the parable of two men at prayer:  the pious Pharisee and the humble tax collector.  A 20^th-century German scholar called these type of parables Beispielerzahlungen, or “exemplary stories”.   In telling these stories, Jesus aims to show his listeners an example of the right (and the wrong) sort of behavior.  

Hear these parables and be that sort of person.   So, be more like the humble beggar at the gates than the rich man dining sumptuously at his table.  Pray like a humble sinner than one filled with pompous piety.  Aim for a better way of living your life than hoarding up everything and then losing it when it’s your time to go. 

Also noteworthy is the place where these parables appear.  These four “example” parables appear only in the Gospel of Luke.  Hmmm….what is Luke’s gospel saying about the teachings of Jesus and the way of discipleship?  What sort of disciple does Luke presume is the best?  Considering that Luke goes on to write the book of Acts, the stories of the early days of the Church, one wonders what sort of “church” Luke also expects a body of believers to be like.  What sort of example does Jesus aim to make of us?  Are we really ready to be that sort of disciple?

Ah…the plot thickens beyond our familiarity with the supposedly simple, oft-told parable!  What does it mean to be a good example, if that good example is held up to be a beggar, a person who won’t live out life like the vain wealthy fool, the tax collector (publican) who humbly prays, and finally, and most scandalously, being like the “good” Samaritan?  Ask any first century Jew listening to these parables, and while they might like the stories that make the “little guy” come out on top, they sure wouldn’t like the punch line to this parable.   “You’re talking about a ‘good’ Samaritan?” the first century listener asks.  “What about Samaritans is remotely ‘good’?”

            Historians give a variety of reasons why Jews and Samaritans did not get along, though if you spoke to a Jew or Samaritan in the first century, you would get plenty of reasons.  “Good Samaritans don’t exist,” would be a likely response.  Consider the estrangement between the two groups just like that family BBQ you might be going to this summer.  While everyone’s enjoying the food and catching up on family news, over in opposite corners are those two brothers.  They haven’t spoke in years; the lingering estrangement just hangs in the air.  It’s a stalemate.  You know it, and they know it, and you’d better just leave things well alone.

            The unlikely “example” of a “good” Samaritan would have thrown the “lawyer” questioning Jesus.  This “lawyer” (better translated as “legal advisor on sacred matters”) made his living knowing the jot and the tittle of the sacred text.  Any fool could tell that this story, told in response to a question about eternal life, shouldn’t end up with a Samaritan saving the day.  More to the point, what sort of fool tells this story?  Respectable stories of righteous behavior told to respectable and righteous people do not end in “good Samaritan”.  In fact, even if you’re poking fun at the expense of a priest or a Levite, the person who “saves the day” ought to be at least an Israelite.  Heavens, make it a Gentile, if you must.  But a Samaritan….What is this world coming to?

            In contemporary theology, this parable would be cited as an example of how do people of faith deal with “the other”?  The term “other” is used for that person or group of persons that you cannot see fitting into the worldview or theology you believe.   How do religious people handle “those people”? 

            I can cite a number of sermons that offer up a casting call for “today’s Good Samaritan”.  Preachers look at society (and yes, even his or her flock of the faithful) and wonder aloud in the pulpit who is today’s “Good Samaritan”, if by “Good Samaritan” you mean a person or group of persons who raises the same exclusive reaction as those listening to Jesus spin this parable.  Who unsettles us as a person that we cannot readily name as "good"?  Who is the “Samaritan” today: the good Muslim”…“the good gay or lesbian”…“the good illegal immigrant”…“the good welfare mother”?

            One has to be careful with this story. It could start asking questions of us that we really don’t want to examine!  What do good Christians make of those we might not readily identify as likewise “good”?  The Jew/Samaritan divide reflects truths about human nature and religious worldviews alike.  What sort of example is Jesus asking his listeners to be?

            A few years ago, an urban African American pastor shared his experiences of listening to the conversation of some of his congregants.  They were voicing disgruntlement and anger about the “new people” moving into the neighborhood.   The pastor shared some of the comments: “They’re taking over our stores!”  “Some of them own half my block now!”  “I can’t get down the street without seeing a crowd of them!”   During one of his sermons, he repeated what he had overheard.  The minister asked his congregation if this reflected how they felt about the changing neighborhood.  Then he asked if these sentiments sounded familiar.  The same was said of his congregants when they moved into the neighborhood years ago, back when they were the newcomers.  Now they were treating the Asian newcomers just like the European Americans treated these African American congregants when they were “new” to the neighborhood.

            The question of the sacred law scholar asks about eternal life, a “how do I get to heaven?” type of question.  He is expecting some type of response about righteous behavior (and truthfully, he is among those who doubts Jesus has anything good to say about respectable behavior).  As they debate sacred teaching, the question shifts to the question of “who is my neighbor?”  The parable serves as a bridge between two questions perhaps we do not associate together.  What connects “righteousness” and “neighborliness”?  In the teachings of Jesus, especially regarding the Kingdom/Reign of God, the gospel envisions far more inclusion in the Kingdom/Reign of God than we see modeled in the pews of many churches.  What sort of example do we set?

            We could suggest the parable relates how you treat others has a bearing on your ability to “get to heaven”.  On a more graceful note, perhaps we could read this parable as a tale about how we should not live by our boundaries of separation and difference.  If you believe the Kingdom/Reign of God has a much better vision for humanity, why not start living out these beliefs now?

            If you look down, you see the man left for dead in the ditch.  What do you do?  Do you stop or try not to get involved?  If you find yourself in the ditch at some point, when someone reaches out to you in compassion, do you accept it based on your beliefs about the person trying to help you back onto your feet?  

            Shane Clairborne is a young adult Christian in Philadelphia.  Just after graduating from Eastern University (an American Baptist college) in Philadelphia just over ten years ago, Clairborne and five others felt called to live together in one of the “rough” neighborhoods.  The group called themselves “The Simple Way’, pooled their resources and bought a house.  Over the past decade, the organization has inspired other groups to form, creating small, and intentional communities for people to live and serve among those in need. 

            Clairborne admits it is not “easy” work.  He told NPR’s Krista Tippett about an experience he had in his own neighborhood while walking down the street with his friend Kasim, a middle school age kid.  He recalls, “

…a bunch of teenagers jumped us, and they started calling us names and throwing stuff at us, and they were just ready for a fight, you know? They're just trying to stir it up, and we keep walking and then, I said, 'You know, let's not run from them. Let's go back.' And we introduced ourselves and Kasim is thinking, like, 'What in the world?' You know, we introduced ourselves to them. And I said, 'My name is Shane. This is Kasim.' And they totally didn't know what to do with that, you know, they're ready to fight. And, then we keep walking and then one of them hits my friend, Kasim, on the head with a club….

And then I turned around and I don't know what happened. It just sort of snapped for me. And I looked at them and I said, 'You guys are created in the image of God and you're made for something better than this.' These kids looked at us and they were — they had no idea what to do with that. They just sort of, like, disintegrated into every different direction, you know? And Kasim looks at me and he goes, 'What was that?' And I'm like 'I don't know what it was,' you know?....

[After Kasim and Clairborne returned to the Simple Way House, Kasim said] 'Shane, you know, we get to go to bed tonight, thinking that we acted like Jesus. And those kids have to go to bed thinking about how they acted.' And this is just a middle school kid, you know. And we sat down, and we prayed for those kids, and we thought about it. And I said, 'Kasim, I don't know what Jesus would have done in our place,' you know? I know one thing, he would not have run from those kids, and he would not have hit those kids.'  (From the transcript of Speaking of Faith,  2007 interview, rebroadcast July 1, 2010.  Transcript:  http://speakingoffaith.publicradio.org/programs/2010/monastic-revolution/transcript.shtml

            In the same interview, Shane Clairborne references Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., as one of his influences.  He mentions a quote by King on the parable of the Good Samaritan: "We're called to be the Good Samaritan and lift our neighbor out of the ditch. But after you lift so many people out of the ditch, you start to say, 'Maybe the whole road to Jericho needs to be transformed.'  (Clairborne interview transcript). 

            The parable ends with the unexpected hero saving the man in the ditch, pouring oil and wine on the man’s wounds, suspending his trade business to transport the wounded man, paying a significant sum of money for lodging and meals for this stranger, and then setting up a tab for when the money runs out.  It’s a curious ending: the Samaritan takes on the burden of caring for a complete stranger, investing in this stranger’s wellbeing (even when considered “left for dead”), and willing to risk himself by “getting involved”.

            The parable claims three people pass by.  Each of them (Priest, Levite, and Samaritan) sees the man left for dead in the ditch.  Only one of them is said to have stopped, moved by compassion.  The one who stopped was the least likely person you’d want to see “saving the day”.

            Jesus says, “Go and do likewise.”

            Hmmm…what sort of example is that?