Wednesday, July 6, 2016

The Outrageous Samaritan (Reflections on Pentecost 8, Year C)

The Good Samaritan - Aime Morot 1880

The parable of the Good Samaritan? Yeah, I guess we all know this one. This poor slob falls into the hands of bandits, gets rolled and has the crap beat out of him, and gets left lying in a pool of his own blood along the side of the road. Two very religious folks pass by him pretending they don’t see him or hear his whimpering for help. They don’t want to get involved. Then this foreign guy shows up, picks him up, gives him first aid, takes him to the local Super 8 Motel, and promises to take care of him—a complete stranger, mind you!—until he recovers. That’s a heck of a story.

In Jesus’ day this parable (Luke 10:25-37) would’ve been completely outrageous. Jesus make the hero of the story a Samaritan, a foreigner whom most Jews would consider to be an unclean heretic. This must’ve got a few of his listeners more than a little pissed off if they really enjoyed despising people who were “other” than themselves. Today, most of us have no real clue about the animosity between Jews and Samaritans, so we might try to figure out who would be an equally offensive substitute within our own context. Muslims? Illegal aliens? Donald Trump supporters? Who takes the place of that vile figure for us?

The problem is, focusing on the “otherness” of the hero in our politically correct environment tends to water down the audacity of the parable, don’t you think? I mean, don’t we all already know that God is love and that God loves all of God’s children regardless of race, creed, or sexual orientation? Lesson learned among us decent, affirmative action, equal-rights-for-all folks, right?

But that doesn’t make the story any less outrageous. Why? Because the Samaritan actually stopped to help. He actually got involved and took a personal risk to do so because he had mercy and compassion in his heart. In the world of the text, he was taking a societal risk by a) helping a hated enemy and b) coming into contact with blood, thereby making him ritually unclean. You and I might not give a rip about that today, but consider that the Samaritan also put himself at physical risk by stopping in a place where murderous cutthroats were known to hang out. For all he knew, the wounded man might’ve been a decoy, a trap to lure a good-hearted soul into getting robbed himself! (Remember that scene in Silence of the Lambs where the girl stops to help a man with his arm in a cast load something into his van and the guy turns out to be a psycho murderer? It could happen. I’m just saying.)

But what’s really far-fetched in this tale is the fact that the Samaritan not only gives the guy first aid but actually assumes financial responsibility for him. He pays the inn-keeper the equivalent of two day’s income and promises to reimburse him for whatever he spends on the wounded man. What if the guy empties the mini bar? What if he runs up a huge room service tab? The Samaritan is willing to risk this out of pure compassion.

Would YOU be willing to do that for a stranger? I know I sure as hell wouldn’t!

To love our neighbor is to show radical mercy, and that’s a terrifying thing. It might ask us for a lot more than we are willing to give—financially, emotionally, and otherwise. We don’t want to get dragged into other peoples’ problems. Who knows? We might get sued. So we become the priests and the Levites of this story, coming up with ingenious ways of avoiding those in true need.

The lawyer in this story asks Jesus how to inherit eternal life. I think this is a lot more than just going to Heaven when we die. If our life really is eternal, shouldn’t we be living it now? When I consider this parable, I consider that the Samaritan represents someone who has truly gained salvation. He has been saved—rescued, really—from his societal prejudice and his fear. He lives in the truth of God’s goodness, providence, and merciful care. This allows him to take risks out of love.

The Samaritan’s pity is a sign of the eternal life within him. His good work did not produce his salvation. His salvation produced his good work.


Let’s all pray for our salvation in this world as well as the next. Thanks for reading, my friend.

PS-Want a good laugh? There's a spoof of this parable and political correctness on line. Seriously. It's pretty funny. Just click on the word Samaritan. 

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