The Good Samaritan Parable

Historical-critical studies have generally confined the parable of the Good

Samaritan to Luke 10:29-37.1 However, other authors insist that the parable should not be

restricted to this section since the larger and immediate context of the parable has shown

that the parable proper is related to Luke 10:25-28, which is the first part of the whole

parable.2 In fact, without this first part, some facets of Jesus’s teaching on compassion

and care would escape one’s view. Let us therefore follow the whole parable with two

parts.

The first part consists of a dialogue between Jesus and the lawyer/scholar of the

law, which is broken down into units of double confrontation: first, the lawyer asking a

question, and Jesus asking a counter-question (Luke 10:25-28); followed-up by the next

confrontation — the lawyer answering Jesus’s counter-question, and Jesus answering the

lawyer’s original question (Luke 10:29-37).3

In the first part, the lawyer asks Jesus, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal

life” (10:25), to which Jesus demands that the lawyer himself answer his own question

since, as expert of the law, he must already know the answer. Thus, the lawyer was

forced to answer his own question with the following: “You shall love the Lord your God

1
See Howard I. Marshall, The Gospel of Luke: A Commentary on the Greek Text (Exeter:
Paternoster, 1978); Joseph A. Fitzmyer, The Gospel according to Luke (New York: Doubleday
1981); Christopher F. Evans, Saint Luke (Philadelphia: Trinity, 1990).
2
Recent commentaries deal with Luke 10:25-37 as a unit. See, Joel B. Green, The Gospel
of Luke (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997); Arland J. Hultgren, The Parables of Jesus: A
Commentary (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000); Klyne R. Snodgrass (Stories with Intent: A
Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008).
3
Some authors comment that at the time of Jesus it was usual for the scholars of the law
and rabbis to answer with a counter-question. Luise Schottroff, The Parables of Jesus
(Minneapolis: Fortress, 2006), p. 132; Bruce J. Malina, The New Testament World: Insights from
Cultural Anthropology (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1993) 34-37.
with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind; and

your neighbor as yourself.” (10: 27) Jesus answered him with an approval: “You have

answered correctly;” such a compliment recognized the lawyer’s knowledge of the

commandment. But then Jesus added something which challenged the lawyer: “Do this,

and you will live.” (10: 28) This last reminder was not just an answer to a question,

which required mastery of information; it was a challenge to translate knowledge into

action. Thus, we learn here the insistence of Jesus that theory should be completed by and

through praxis.

The scholar of the law was reminded by Jesus that it is not enough to know that

salvation requires the love of God and love of neighbor. Jesus’s exhortation, “Do it and

you shall live,” has caught the scholar of the law on the defensive side and so wanted to

redeem himself and continued to test Jesus with another tricky question: “And who is my

neighbor?”(10:29). By asking Jesus this crucial question, the lawyer thought that he had

taken the initiative and avoided shame in front of Jesus’s audience.4 Among the Jews, the

answer to the issue of the neighbor, in fact, could reveal a person’s desirable allegiance or

undesirable relationship to their race, religion, and community. In first century Palestine,

a Jew could consider a fellow Jew or proselyte living next door, or a Jew living a hundred

or a thousand miles away, as a neighbor.5 In this kind of classification the alien who was

4
See Bruce J. Malina and Jerome H. Neyrey, “Honor and Shame in Luke-Acts: Pivotal
Values of the Mediterranean World,” in Jerome H. Neyrey (ed.), The Social World of Luke-Acts:
Models for Interpretation (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1991), pp. 51ff.
5
“The Hebrew of the Torah is not easily translatable. The customary translation of
veahavta l’reyacha kamocha–“you shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18)–seems
to imply that all “neighbors,” regardless of creed, are to be loved equally. This implication, based
upon the inadequate translation of reyacha, is not accurate.
First let us observe the context in which the above phrase appears in the Torah: “You
shall not hate “your brother” in your heart?You shall not take revenge or feel resentment against
“the children of your people,” you shall love “your companion” [reyacha] as yourself.” From this
living nearby or any Gentile traveller who happened to pass by could not be a neighbor.

Strictly, the only requirement for being accepted and treated as a neighbor was to be of

Jewish descent, or in the case of a proselyte or God-fearers, to be a convert or willing to

convert to Judaism.6

The lawyer’s second question, “And who is my neighbor?” thus implied that there

are groups of people and some of these are not classified as the Jews’ neighbors. The

meaning of neighbor, therefore, has a limit and the lawyer wanted to test Jesus if he

respected this limit. Thus, if Jesus stretches the interpretation of neighbor to include

outcasts, sinners, those on the margins of society, and Gentiles, then the lawyer would

have succeeded in exposing Jesus’ teaching as unusual insofar as this extended

understanding of the neighbor was unacceptable to most Jews.

Jesus, however, would not take part in the malicious trap contrived by the lawyer.

Instead, he changed his tactic by not answering the lawyer’s question and by telling a

story. This is the second part of the whole parable.

The second part, which is the parable proper of the Good Samaritan consists of

seven interconnected scenes: (1) a man fell into the hands of robbers (10: 30), (2) the

appearance of the priest (10: 31), (3) the entrance of the Levite (10: 32), (4) the arrival of

the Samaritan (10: 33), (5) the care administered by the Samaritan (10: 34), (6) the

bringing of the wounded man into the inn (10: 35), and (7) the concluding units of action

involving Jesus and the lawyer (10: 36-37).

it is clear that “your companion” refers to the same category as “your brother” and “the children
of your people,” all explicitly referring to one’s fellow Jew.” See,
http://www.inner.org/responsa/leter1/ RESP22.HTM
6
Joachim Jeremias, The Parables of Jesus (New York: Scribner, 1963), p. 202; Fichtner,
“πλησίον,” Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, vol. VI:315 writes, “the commandment
applies only in relation to Israelites and full proselytes. Samaritans, foreigners and resident aliens
who do not join the community of Israel within 12 months are excluded.”
 Commentators have assumed the Jewish identity of the victim.7 One of the more

compelling evidence is that the direction of his journey was from Jerusalem to Jericho:

both are Jewish cities. Moreover, the victim must have been one of those who came back

after joining the periodic Jewish feasts celebrated in Jerusalem. Lastly, Jesus was

narrating the story to Jewish listeners who are able to imagine his basic assumptions — to

make the victim a non-Jew would have complicated the process of narrating and

understanding the nature of the story. Jesus would have wanted his audience to see that

the victim was indeed a “neighbor” in the conventional sense.

What is crucial, however, is not so much the identity of the victim as the problem

that resulted after the robbers divested the victim of his clothing (“…he fell among

robbers, who both stripped him and beat him, and departed, leaving him half dead.”(10:

30). After the stripping of his clothes, the victim’s identity became an issue particularly

for the Priest and the Levite. If the victim were not stripped of his clothing, his identity

would have been clear; a person’s identity is known through his outfit and the manner he

wears his clothes (including his shoes, belt, and head cover or cap). A man left naked and

half-dead on the road has, therefore, no identity — having no sign to show whether he is

one of the “neighbors” of the Jews. Orthodox Jews, like the Priest and the Levite of the

parable, would thus have the greatest trouble deciding whether to help the troubled

7
These authors assume that the victim is a Jew: Kenneth E. Bailey, Through Peasant
Eyes. More Lukan Parables, Their Culture and Style. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1980), p. 42;
Bernard Brandon Scott, Hear Then the Parable: A Commentary on the Parables of Jesus
(Minneapolis: Fortress, 1989), p. 194; Robert W. Funk, “The Good Samaritan as Metaphor,”
Semeia 2 (1974): 74-81. Other commentators, however, claim that the identity of the man is
insignificant to the story: Charles H. Talbert, Reading Luke: A Literary and Theological
Commentary (Macon: Smyth & Helwys, 2002), pp. 123-25; Jeremias, The Parables of Jesus, p.
203. John D. Crossan, In Parables: The Challenge of the Historical Jesus (New York: Harper &
Row, 1973), pp. 57-66.
person or not because of their ethnic, religious, or cultural allegiance that limits their

view of “neighbor.”

Indeed, the Priest and the Levite knew what salvation requires or what their

official functions expect from them. This knowledge, however, was not translated into

action. The failure to act even as one actually knows what is required by the law tells us

that their knowledge about divine things is not an assurance that they will find eternal

life. Indeed, because it was entirely possible for them to extend care to the victim, their

failure to do so made this knowledge and office “useless” in the face of the divine

commandment to love God and one’s neighbor.

On the other hand, the Samaritan saw the man in need and was moved with

compassion (10:33). The closer look and the more affective closeness made the

difference between the Samaritan’s posture and the behavior of the Priest and the Levite

who passed the other side or simply left without giving any form of assistance to the

victim. The former was moved; the latter moved out of the location and path of the

victim, effectively bringing them away from the scene where compassionate action would

have translated their knowledge into a caring praxis. It was the Samaritan who was able

to translate this knowledge into real action.

The usual explanation given why the Priest and the Levite chose to pass by and

not help the man in need was for the fear of ritual defilement.8 They became defiled if

they touched a corpse and they would be unclean for seven days and would be required to

undergo purification (Num 19:11-22). In the parable, it is stated that the Priest and Levite

8
Bailey, Through Peasant Eyes, pp. 43-46; Craig L. Blomberg, Interpreting the Parables
(Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1990), p. 232; Madeleine I. Boucher, The Parables (Wilmington:
Michael Glazier, 1983), p. 120; W. Hendriksen, Exposition of the Gospel according to Luke
(Grand Rapids: Baker, 1978), p. 594; Jeremias, The Parables of Jesus, p. 203.
are going to Jericho and not to Jerusalem; they were going down towards the direction

taken by the victim, which is Jericho — going down means coming from a higher place

(Jerusalem is about 2500 feet above sea level; Jericho is about 800 feet below sea level).

Thus, it is more likely that there is another reason for not extending help other than the

defilement thesis.

A possible answer, which is more consistent with the parable’s issue on the

“neighbor”, is that the Priest and the Levite did not assist the victim or take responsibility

for him because they were not sure about his identity. They did not want to take

responsibility for a stranger, or for somebody who might belong to another race, a

different culture, or a different social class. For fear of crossing the boundaries that

separated them, the Priest and the Levite chose not to take the risk. They saw the victim,

but they “passed by on the opposite side.” Although they saw the person was obviously in

serious trouble, they chose not to respond to him as a person in need.

Why was the Samaritan able to extend help?

The Samaritan was able to cross the boundaries of ethnicity, religion, or fear. He

saw the victim in need and thus was able to extend what was a logically appropriate

response: caring for the victim. With wine and oil, the Samaritan administered assistance.

These materials could have been brought too by the Priest or the Levite since they were

temple officials who would normally bring such things with them; in fact, even ordinary

travelers, like the Samaritan, would normally bring wine and oil on their journey. Thus,

we could infer that all three had wine and oil, but the Samaritan alone used these to

administer care. He did not mind if the robbers would come back and pounce on him and

he would have become another victim himself. Instead, his acts of care were deliberate
and without apprehension for his own safety. Not minding his own security, he was able

to extend care and prepare the victim for a more secure form of assistance by bringing

him to an inn.

Thus, care giving did not end on the road but continued in the more ideal setting

of an inn where other people could provide further assistance towards the victim’s

complete recovery — becoming a regenerated human person. But, by bringing the victim

to a more secure place, the Samaritan had exposed his own life to danger — the act of

bringing the victim into an inn within a Judean territory compromised his own security.

Jews could have easily jumped into conclusion that the Samaritan himself was the

aggressor and the victim’s mugger. This thought of exposure to danger would have

stopped the Samaritan from extending the care, which he initially administered on the

road; but he did have none of this fear and apprehension which could have made his

caring act half-baked and tentative. A cowardly behavior would thus have stopped the

Samaritan’s caring assistance. On the contrary, he followed what compassion has

impelled in him and he did continue to care, unmindful of the danger that could have both

imperiled his life and the complete recovery of the victim. Compassion and care

prevailed over fear and the Jewish anxiety (exemplified by the Priest’s and Levite’s fear

and anxiety) about their distinctive ethnicity and religion.

The Samaritan stayed with the victim overnight (“On the next day, when he

departed... Lk 10:35) and the following day, he did something which went beyond the

conventional views of the Jews. He gave the innkeeper two denarii so that he could take

care of the wounded man until he returned. A denarius was equivalent to a man’s daily

wage and we may assume that two denarii would cover all the costs. However,
commentators believe that two denarii would have covered the cost of at least twenty four

days of lodging at an inn; it may be less if food and lodging were to be paid. A day’s

lodging, at that time, was worth approximately one-twelfth of a denarius.9

If a Samaritan assisted an anonymous victim on a road shocked the audience, his

actions the next morning shocked and surprised the audience even more. The Samaritan

went beyond what was necessary and paid generously for the regeneration of an

anonymous person.10 This act completed the caring praxis of the Good Samaritan. It also

illustrated the possession of a subjective disposition that is ready to administer care.

Indeed, the subjective disposition is a precondition for the translation of knowledge into

action. Such a disposition was lacking in the person of the Priest and the Levite who were

instead disposed to prejudice and remained incapable of moving beyond the confines of

their restrictive understanding about their neighbor.

We have thousands of cases of sick and wounded people. Some of us have seen

too many which more than anyone of us today could have imagined. Encountering one of

them in the slums, sidewalks, dumpsites, orphanages, prisons, factories, etc., could

trigger the usual question: “What am I going to do?” Judging from our conviction about

Christian vocation, this question must be merely a stimulus that could ignite in us a

concrete and immediate response: to act. Similarly, when the Samaritan saw the

9
See Jeremias, The Parables of Jesus, p. 205; Douglas E. Oakman, “The Buying Power
of Two Denarii: A Comment on Luke 10:35,” Forum 3 (1987): 33- 38; Kenneth W. Harl,
Coinage in the Roman Economy, 300 B.C to A.D. 700 (Baltimore: John Hopkins University
Press, 1996), pp. 278-79.
10
John R. Donahue notes that the Samaritan secures the victim’s recovery and freedom.
If he had not paid the bill, the victim would have been arrested for his debt, The Gospel in
Parable: Metaphor, Narrative, and Theology in the Synoptic Gospels (Philadelphia: Fortress,
1988), p. 133.
wounded/dying person on the road, he lost no time thinking about what to do or weighing

about a myriad of possible courses of action. He just did what he could and did it as

though he was accustomed to care-giving.

For somebody who just had to respond according to the demands of the situation,

the more appropriate question would have to be: “How am I going to behave towards it?”

For somebody who possesses the ability to respond, every way may be desirable. But, for

someone who just could not respond because of lack of capacity, one can formulate

endless questions such that any expression of care is ignored or forgotten.

Some have shown that they are capable; likewise, the Good Samaritan was

capable, therefore, they were both able to bestow care. They should have broken the

barriers/limits that were imposed upon them.

This issue about bestowing care as a problem and bestowing care as a solution

have been made clearer through this closer reading of the Good Samaritan parable.