The Wounded

pass by or stop and help

Scripture Reading: Luke 10:25-37

              “The Good Samaritan” is perhaps the most recognizable of Jesus’ parables. The key figure in the story is the man we call “The Good Samaritan.” It was shocking to those who heard him that Jesus identified the genuinely loving person as a Samaritan and the priest and Levite were portrayed as unloving. The moral and immoral are sifted and it is an unexpected twist that Jesus makes the Samaritan in the story out to be the wheat and the Jewish religious leaders' chaff.

              We know, because Jesus tells us, the inner spiritual state of those three men in the story. But there is a fourth man in the parable. What kind of man was he? I have always had an unspoken presumption that he was a decent fellow. I picture him as a middle-class, college-educated, professional with a wife, two kids, a three-bed two-bath ranch home in a suburban neighborhood. In my presuppositional take on the victim, I see him as a poor, innocent guy who didn’t deserve the ill-treatment he endured.

              Of course, when you read the text, you realize none of my presuppositions are valid. I may or may not have an accurate take on him. But I don’t know because Jesus never gives us any indication of the victim’s moral, religious, or social standing. We don’t know and we are not told, and I think that is intentional.

              So, why have I been making this inference about the victim in the story? Maybe because I want him to be worthy of being helped. I want that to be a part of the parable when I am faced with real-life opportunities to implement and apply what Jesus is saying. I want the freedom to stop and help or walk on by. And if I walk past, I want to still think of myself as the Good Samaritan, so I have to have a justification for walking by. I want to decide who does and doesn’t deserve to be helped.

              Jesus, though, doesn’t say what kind of man the victim was. It wasn’t a part of his story and it wasn’t a part of the equation when the Samaritan, the priest, and the Levite were deciding what to do. The only issue was a suffering, helpless man was in need. That’s it. His race, his religion, his social status, or his moral history were not considered.

              The man in need wasn’t in the dock. He wasn’t the one being tested. Much to my dismay, when presented with a “Good Samaritan” moment, it’s not the one in need whose heart is being tested. It’s mine. Will it look like the heart of the Samaritan, the priest, or the Levite? That’s the question. The person in need isn’t on trial. The people who see and can meet the need are.