August 13, 2008 + Helping hands wanted + Hayward Fong

Luke 10: 25-37

The story we read is one that happened often on the road between Jerusalem and Jericho. This road was a dangerous one for travelers and one well suited for robbers. Jerusalem is a city on a hill at elevation 2,300; Jericho on the other hand is near the Dead Sea. The Dead Sea is 1,300 feet below sea level, so the road between Jerusalem and Jericho has a change in elevation of 3,600 feet in a little more than 20 miles. With its sharp turns and narrow passes, it was an ideal place for bandits to ambush travelers. In the 19th Century, travelers had to pay local Sheiks for safe passage, and up until the early 1930’s highway robberies were still taking place. With the turmoil in the region, I suspect that it has become once again a road of dubious safety.

As we have done in earlier studies of Jesus’ parables, let us look at the characters in this story.

First there is the traveler. He was either careless or stupid to travel this road alone. People in his day and age always traveled in convoys for security reasons.

Second there was the priest. Because there were so many priests they were divided into classes, each class to serve in the Temple for two separate weeks in the year. When they were not on duty, many would stay in Jericho. As the story went, this priest took one look at the man and passed on the other side. He didn’t want to risk being unclean for touching a dead man and not being able to share in the religious service. Their time of service in the Temple was the great event in their lives and he didn’t want to risk losing his two weeks. He could well have been sorry for the man, but the risk was too great. The priest set the service in the Temple above the claim of humanity.

Then there was the Levite. He evidently came over, took a look and hurried past on the other side. It might be that he was afraid that the body was a setup for other bandits hiding in the area. He would have liked to help, but the risk was too great.

Then there is the Samaritan, a people hated by the Jews. This enmity had lasted for some 450 years. When the Northern Kingdom, with its capital in Samaria, was destroyed around 720 B.C. the inhabitants were deported to Assyria and foreigners had been brought in. Since it was impossible to deport an entire nation, there were some who were left behind. In the course of time, some of them intermarried with the foreigners. And in so doing, they lost the racial purity, unforgivable in the eyes of the Southern Jews.

About 140 years later the same fate befell the Southern Kingdom, whose capital was at Jerusalem. But these Jews kept the faith even in exile to Babylon. They kept their nationality and religion and around 440 B.C. they were allowed to return to Jerusalem under Ezra and Nehemiah to rebuild the city and Temple. Immediately the Jews of the Northern Kingdom offered their help, but were contemptuously refused. Because of their foreign marriages, they were no longer considered as Jews by the Southern Jews. This bitterness carried on through the ages. Therefore if this man is a Samaritan, the listeners to Jesus would identify him as the villain.

However, there are some problems in regarding him as a racial Samaritan. He was clearly something of a commercial traveler. The inn keeper seemed to know him and trusted him to return. There is an implication that he had two animals, one of which he rode and the other to carry his packs. Now if he was racially a Samaritan, what was he doing going between Jerusalem and Jericho? The Jews had no dealing with Samaritans so it would be safe to say that he couldn’t possibly have any business in Jerusalem and could be persona non grata to a Jewish inn keeper.

A possible and a simple explanation can be found in John 8:48. The orthodox Jews shocked and fed up with Jesus said to him, “Are we not right in saying that you are a Samaritan and have a demon?” The name Samaritan was used as a term of loathing and contempt for those who were law breakers from the orthodox Jewish religion. So most probably, this commercial traveler was one of those people who did not keep the ceremonial law and was disliked by the orthodox good people of the day. And so the parable paints a picture of the orthodox passing on the other side, while the despised heretic and sinner is the one man who helps his fellow man.

Of Jesus’ parables, this is probably the most practical, in dealing with the most practical of problems in the most practical way. It answers two questions.

The question of the scribe was, “Who is my neighbor?” and the answer of the parable is, “Anyone who needs your help.” To the Jew this was startling, He felt a definite responsibility for his fellow Jew but none at all for the Gentile. How often do we pass by people in suffering and in need because, as we say, they have nothing to do with us. It is only when need comes to someone in our circle that we become active. There are some people whose instinct is to keep to themselves; there are others whose instinct it is to help, and these have the spirit of Christ in them.

This parable answers the question, “What is my duty to my neighbor in trouble?” and the answer is “Pity which brings about help.” Pity which remains an emotion is not really pity. Both the priest and Levite probably felt a pang of pity for the traveler but did nothing to translate pity into action.

The pity which remains an emotion is actually a sin because it is always sin to experience high emotion and do nothing to turn it into action. Our duty to our neighbor is to reproduce the attitude of Christ, the attitude of an active pity whose hand is ever stretched out to help.

This parable says that practical service must take precedence in religion. The priest was so pre-occupied with the correct carrying out of the Temple services that he failed to respond to a fellow-creature’s need. A Church may have all the dignity in the world and be quite dead, because true religion comes forth not in ritual and ceremony but in practical help for those in need.

The parable says that there is duty to help a man even when the trouble he is in is his own fault. This traveler was careless and didn’t exercise common sense in traveling alone. Yet the Samaritan, for all that, helped him. Quite often we say of someone in trouble, “He has no one to blame but himself.” That may be true but God helped men in spite of their foolishness. So must we.

The parable says we must help even at risk to ourselves. The Levite was not willing to take the risk; nor was the priest. The true Christian counts risk as less that nothing in comparison with the duty of helpfulness.

Whether we take the Samaritan as racially a Samaritan or as a heretic branded with that name of contempt, the fact emerges that there may be more real Christianity in someone with a hot heart and a stained record than in someone who is cold and correctly orthodox. This parable lays it down that the standard of judgment is not ours to make.