The Good Samaritan
A Sermon by the Reverend Shearon Sykes Williams on the Fifth Sunday after Pentecost, July 10, 2022.
Luke 10:25-37
We often think of the parable of the Good Samaritan as a kind of morality tale, much like one of Aesop’s Fables.
The lawyer in today’s Gospel recites the Summary of Mosaic Law when Jesus asks him what it says about inheriting eternal life. “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and all your strength, and with all your soul, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” And then being the persnickety lawyer that he is, he asks “and just exactly, who is my neighbor?” But instead of giving him a direct answer, Jesus tells him a story, as he so often did, a story that shocks him and challenges him to think more deeply. Far from being a tale with one, simple point, the Parable of the Good Shepherd has many perspectives for us to ponder today.
We usually think about the lesson of the story being our call as followers of Christ to “go and do likewise”. And we are indeed called to go the extra mile to care for people in need. I imagine the priest coming home from the temple after a long day of services and meetings and pastoral care, going to the other side of the road. He probably went through some mental calculus about having done enough to love God and his neighbor for one day.
The Levite, a devout lay person who also worked at the temple, had probably been in the same meetings, and just wanted to get home to have dinner and be with his family. It’s not hard to put ourselves into that picture, the long road home after a stressful day at work (even if it’s just the journey from our home office to the kitchen) . But Jesus didn’t just pick any road for his story. The road from Jerusalem to Jericho was notoriously dangerous. It was and is about 18 miles long with a drop in elevation of 2,500 feet. The road meanders and has a lot of places where robbers could lie in wait to ambush people. And they did- a lot. So much so that it was called the “Bloody Pass” in Jesus’ day. So before we get too judgmental toward the priest and Levite, it is good for us to remember that it’s not so unlike us walking through an area where there is a lot of known violence. If we saw somebody on the side of the road who looked like they’d been injured, would we stop and help or would we run for our life, wondering if we were going to be next?
And what of the hero of the story, the Good Samaritan? First of all, “Good Samaritan” was an oxymoron for Jews in Jesus’ day. There was no “good” Samaritan. Jews and Samaritans despised one another. We could substitute a group or person we can’t stand right now. The Republicans. Or maybe the Democrats. Or the Russian government. Or perhaps a public figure who makes us seethe when we hear their name or see their picture. Someone who evokes a visceral hatred in us. Or on a more personal level, a former spouse. Or someone in our family that we are estranged from who plucks our very last nerve. Think of someone who you cannot imagine having one shred of compassion in their hearts, someone incapable of loving God or their neighbor, someone whose essential dignity as a human being and child of God you really have a hard time seeing . That’s who we are talking about when we think about how Jews felt toward Samaritans and Samaritans felt toward Jews. They both saw each other as the lowest of the low. So, Jesus’ use of the image of the “Good” Samaritan would have been appalling to the young lawyer. But that was the point.
Jesus was trying to shock him, and by extension, us, into seeing the extravagance and relentlessness of God’s love when we picture the Samaritan pouring wine and oil in the injured Jew’s wounds, wine to deaden the pain, and oil to prevent infection. And then, putting him on his own animal, and taking him to an inn where he can recover. What if that person we can’t abide, showed up and did that for us?
Someone who seemed to really “get” this parable from yet another perspective, not the vantage point of the lawyer, not the perspective of the priest and Levite, nor of the Samaritan who stopped to help him, but the view of the man who was lying on the side of the road, was Vincent Van Gogh. He painted this story in May of 1890 when he was in an asylum trying to recuperate from a particularly bad bout of mental illness after a bitter falling out with a dear friend. Van Gogh was extremely difficult to be in relationship with, by all accounts, and he often felt misunderstood, alone and in deep despair. The treatment center that he checked himself into was in a beautiful place in a small town in the south of France. He would look out of his window and see cornfields, vineyards and olive trees bathed in the warm sunlight that is characteristic of Provence. And he painted the Good Samaritan. He copied it from a black and white etching by Edward Decroix, an artist whose work he greatly admired. But his interpretation of the story was much more alive. The colors and the energy in the painting are incredible, just as we would expect from him, dramatic swirls and intense yellows and blues that really convey the pathos of the story. Van Gogh depicts the Samaritan picking the half-dead man up and you can feel the weight of his body as he struggles to put him on his donkey. The injured man is looking up in pain and holding on to the Samaritan. And in the distance, the priest is walking along reading a book, presumably the law that the young lawyer has just recited to Jesus. “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and mind and soul and your neighbor as yourself.” One man is memorizing it while the other is living it. You really have to wonder if Van Gogh doesn’t see himself as the injured man on the side of the road, being picked up and taken to safety. This is not a detached painting, merely trying to convey a morality tale, no this is someone invested in what they are creating, someone seeking meaning and personal connection with Jesus’ words, clinging to the parable for dear life.
In the long history of the Church, this story has often been interpreted allegorically, seeing Jesus as the Good Samaritan, the one who picks us up and brings us healing. And that understanding is not a bad image for us today, picturing ourselves as the person on the side of the road in need of healing. We are all hurting in some way. We all need Jesus to pick us up and take us to a new place, a new place in our own hearts and minds and spirits. We need to be restored to health so that we can love ourselves, love God and love our neighbor. Some of us are suffering the wounds of self-hatred, some of us are sick with worry for people we love, and many of us hold toxic anger for people who we think of as wholly and completely “other” from us. We all have a personal investment in this parable today.
I leave you with the text of a hymn composed in the 18th century by John Newton, an Anglican priest who had been a slave owner and then, by the grace of God, became an abolitionist. He wrote this hymn in thanksgiving for his conversion.
How kind the good SamaritanTo him who fell among the thieves!Thus Jesus pities fallen man,And heals the wounds the soul receives.Oh! I remember well the day,When sorely wounded, nearly slain,Like that poor man I bleeding lay,And groaned for help, but groaned in vain.Men saw me in this helpless case,And passed without compassion by;Each neighbour turned away his face,Unmoved by my mournful cry.But he whose name had been my scorn(As Jews Samaritans despise),Came, when he saw me thus forlorn,With love and pity in his eyes.Gently he raised me from the ground,Pressed me to lean upon his arm,And into every gaping woundHe poured his own all-healing balm.Unto his church my steps he led,The house prepared for sinners lost,Gave charge I should be clothed and fed,And took upon him all the cost.Thus saved from death, from want secured,I wait till he again shall come,(When I shall be completely cured),And take me to his heavenly home.There, through eternal boundless days,When Nature’s wheel no longer rolls,How shall I love, adore, and praise,This good Samaritan to souls!