Last week we talked about the temptation to discover secret meanings in the parables and read them as mysteries instead of reading them for what they are. They are stories that speak to the part of our minds and hearts that are not reached by proclamations and straight facts. They are torpedoes and not missiles.

Until now, I had never thought about the title given to this parable. But this week I started wondering why it has been labeled “The Good Samaritan”. Jesus doesn’t call it that and there is no mention of the word good in the parable itself. I think whoever later came up with that phrase must have thought it was ironic for there to be a Good Samaritan. What if we titled a story The Good Democrat or the Good Republican? It is almost another way of saying they are the exception to the rule and we should be surprised to discover there is such a person. Why not just the good man?

Of course, the history of the Jews and the Samaritans was one of historic and mutual hatred. It was the hatred of people who were related to each other and that is the worst kind, isn’t it? Both of them thought they were right and the other wrong about everything. Both of them read into the motives of everything the other did. They never missed a chance to hurt each other. The Jews destroyed their place of worship and the Samaritans desecrated the Temple by spreading human bones. I don’t think we have any better illustration of that particular kind of venom and mistrust than in our politics today. There is really no foreign enemy we hate as much as our other half. It has become the single most important marker of our identity and our loyalty.

In 2016, more people care about the party of their future in-law than cared in 1958, and there is more desire for same-party marriage than there was in the 1950s.

In 2016, 28 percent of respondents said they wanted their son or daughter to marry a Democrat and 27 percent a Republican, leaving only 45 percent to say they didn’t care.

People who identified with a party had even more intense feelings. In 1958, 33 percent of Democrats wanted their daughters to marry a Democrat, and 25 percent of Republicans wanted their daughters to marry a Republican. But by 2016, 60 percent of Democrats and 63 percent of Republicans felt that way. Party affiliation was more important than race or religion.

People in each party now share more similar views on issues and they are more alike in race and ethnicity. Americans are increasingly surrounded by those who are like-minded — and they seem to prefer to keep it that way for the next generation.

Perhaps that is the origin of the question. “How far must I go in loving someone?” There was little doubt about how the observant Jews defined a neighbor. It was a fellow Jew just as God defined it in Leviticus 19:

Do not defraud or rob your neighbor.

Do not pervert justice; do not show partiality to the poor or favoritism to the great, but judge your neighbor fairly.

Do not do anything that endangers your neighbor’s life. 

Do not hate a fellow Israelite in your heart. Rebuke your neighbor frankly so you will not share in their guilt.

Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against anyone among your people, but love your neighbor as yourself.

But there are neighbors and then there are real neighbors. There are real neighbors and then neighbors in name only. How narrowly can we define it so we are sure we are not including people undeserving of being considered neighbors? That is his question, I believe.  How do I justify not only my question but justify loving only those who are most in agreement with me? How can I justify not loving the imposters and the impure?

It is like Peter’s question of how many times must we forgive. The answer Jesus gives each is not the one they expected because they wanted to know how far they had to go – but no further. Jesus always goes further than we want. Look at his words in Luke 6 about loving our enemies – and the Jews and Samaritans were certainly enemies.

But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. If someone slaps you on one cheek, turn to them the other also. If someone takes your coat, do not withhold your shirt from them. Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. Do to others as you would have them do to you.

“If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners do that. And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, expecting to be repaid in full. But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.

The more questions we ask about who we can exclude and under what conditions we are excused from this extreme way of life the more we look like the lawyer. The more we hope to justify a more limited definition of how we are to treat each other the more we resemble the lawyer looking for the minimum required to inherit eternal life. Otherwise, being a Christian is too hard, too demanding and not practical.

Exactly. It is supernaturally difficult. In fact, it is impossible.

But, I don’t believe the parable is intended to shame the lawyer asking the question. I think there is more to it than that.

We know the story. A man is attacked by thieves, stripped, beaten and left half-dead. The very ones we expect would show mercy do just the opposite. They pass by on the other side of the road. Of course, they have good reasons according to their rules and traditions. Any Jew who touches a dead body is considered unclean – especially a Priest or Levite. They would have to quarantine and that is more than inconvenient. They don’t know that he is only half-dead but there is no reason to take a chance. But there is no escaping the insinuation in his telling that Jesus considers them to be imprisoned by the very traditions that were intended to make them compassionate. We see this in his confrontation with the Pharisees who have figured out a way of not supporting their own parents. They claimed their wealth had been dedicated to the work of the Temple and therefore could not be used any other way. Of course, they enjoyed the use of it. They created loopholes for their own benefit.

Just as he did in allowing and even encouraging his disciples to eat on the Sabbath or for him to allow the sinful woman to touch him during dinner or to claim he has the right to forgive sins, he is telling the people that the rules intended to keep them holy have corrupted them because they have twisted them for their own purposes.

I am sure many of the listeners at this point are chuckling and watching the lawyer squirm as Jesus says in his own unique way what they all believe – the religious leaders are all hypocrites and the lawyer deserves what he is about to get.

And then Jesus turns the story on its head just as he did with the visit to the house of the tax collector. Everyone in the crowd was offended when he went to the home of the tax collector. Everyone hated tax collectors – not just the religious hypocrites. Just the same, everyone hated Samaritans.  Jesus should have made the hero a publican or even a prostitute – but not a Samaritan. There are no good Samaritans. Samaritans are traitors. It was probably a Samaritan who attacked the man in the first place.

He intentionally uses a Samaritan when he could have easily used someone else and not have caused such a visceral reaction. Why alienate and intimidate all your listeners? Why make it so difficult to overcome all their resistance to make the point?

Yes, the story is about compassion. It is about unexpected -almost incomprehensible – compassion and not just a story about good people stepping in to help. We hear and read about those stories on a regular basis and while they make us pause and wonder if we are doing enough to love our neighbors we also are inspired and encouraged to know there are good people out there. The last few weeks have been full of examples of people who stepped in with food, shelter, compassion and sharing.

But Samaritans are not good people.

Why ruin a good story about someone helping a person in need?

Because the point has to be almost impossible to imagine if we are to understand the nature of nearly everything Christ teaches – including kindness. Flannery O’Connor said, “To the hard of hearing you shout, and for the almost blind you draw large and startling figures.” Jesus is dealing with the deaf and the almost blind – then and now. It is not a warmness and mere empathy that he is offering but something deeper and far more difficult. It is not easy charity. It is sacrifice. Not just for the lawyer asking the question but for everyone listening.  One more time Jesus has gone too far.

We never know what God will do with our enemies and those with whom we vehemently disagree. Many in Jesus’ audience would have stopped listening the moment he said “Samaritan,” and we are tempted to do the same with our own examples of Samaritans. I expect a few people walked away in disgust. “The only Good Samaritan is a dead Samaritan” they might have said. How could you make a Samaritan the hero of the story? They were angry and offended and with good reason, but we cannot predict how God may turn our own minds to realize, in spite of ourselves, it is those very enemies and heretics who personify charity, compassion and kindness. We would have other ways of showing our surprise today if Jesus had picked someone we consider a traitor and heretic but it’s all the same. Jesus is never satisfied with our little categories and disputes. He is never going to let us off the hook of his commandment to love each other. He is not going to align with one side of the aisle or the other or with those who think they are more pure in their ideology than others. He is going to twist our noses now just as he did then.

This week I have been thinking about the verse in Acts that reads “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judaea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”  We have always read that to refer to geography but I think it is more than that. I think our gospel has to have the power to go through our own versions of Samaria. It has to go through our own notions about who is in and out and who is for us and against us. It has to go through our own enemy’s territory to get to the ends of the earth.  Otherwise, our gospel will just remain in Jerusalem and Judaea. It will be a gospel for us but it will never have the power to reach the ends of the earth unless it has the power to go through Samaria. We would rather not. We would rather go around Samaria and not have to deal with them but that is not what Jesus said. You must deal with Samaria. You must love your neighbor – even the one you despise – and allow yourself to be loved by them. It is only in the power of the Holy Spirit that we will do that. It is only when we forgive each other that our “good news” will make any sense to the uttermost parts of the earth.