The ultimate compliment is to be called a good Samaritan. It’s a well-known parable that, on the surface, seems easy to understand. Be kind to strangers! Got it—next parable! 

But Jesus has much more in mind. He used illustrations to show us how far we fall short of what God’s law demands—how our good works and religious merit are never sufficient to gain favor with God. We can’t earn our way to heaven. 

In Luke 10:25, a legal expert, trying to trip Jesus up, asked, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” It’s not a bad question. In fact, it’s the most important question one can ask. It’s asked by Nicodemus in John 3 and the rich young ruler in Matthew 19. Jesus frequently posed the question. 

Jesus answered a question with a question, referencing Deuteronomy 6:4-5. The lawyer responded, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” In Luke 10:28, Jesus replied, “You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live.” So far, so good. The entire moral law is summed up in those two commands to love God and love your neighbor. 

There’s just one problem: You can’t do it! Jesus is holding a mirror up to the lawyer to demonstrate how the law condemned him. The man should have been broken by this. He should have asked, “Where can I find redemption?” Instead, desiring to justify himself, he asks, “And who is my neighbor?” 

Ugh! Wrong answer! The lawyer wanted people to think he was righteous—wanted to maintain the façade. Like the Pharisees, he pursued righteousness on his own terms. In Romans 10:3, Paul writes, “For, being ignorant of the righteousness of God, and seeking to establish their own, they did not submit to God’s righteousness.”

It’s telling that the lawyer skipped over the first part of the command—to love God with all your heart/soul/strength/mind. He didn’t go there. Instead, he wanted a technical interpretation of “neighbor”. He wanted the scope of “neighbor” to be narrowed to the point of compliance/righteousness.

You see, if “neighbor = family” or “neighbor = loved ones” then perhaps you have a shot. If “neighbor = friends” you may score highly on how well you love them.

But what if “neighbor = everyone”? What if your neighbor is everyone outside of yourself? What if your neighbor includes your enemies? How are you doing now? What’s your score? The legal expert longed for a narrow interpretation of neighbor because a wider, universal definition would condemn him. Jesus, knowing his heart, could have rebuked the man and walked away. Instead, he shows the man grace and gives him a parable. 

In Luke 10:30-37, Jesus says, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him and departed, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road, and when he saw him he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion. He went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he set him on his own animal and brought him to an inn and took care of him. And the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Take care of him, and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.’ Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” And Jesus said to him, “You go, and do likewise.”

The setting is a 17-mile-long, winding road from Jerusalem to Jericho. During our 2013 Holy Lands tour, Janet and I saw this dangerous road from a distance. Heading toward Jericho, it drops 4000 feet through barren mountains and rough terrain. There are massive boulders, hideout caves perfect for robbers, and 300-foot drops in some places. It’s lightly traveled except during Jerusalem feasts. With no homes and few stopping points, it’s not a place you want to be, especially during peak heat and cold, windy winters. 

In the parable, a man traveling alone gets jumped by brutal thieves and is robbed and stripped naked. He’s left for dead. 

In verse 31, we find a moment of hope. A priest shows up! A < insert your local preacher’s name > arrives on the scene! That’s great news! If you’re in critical condition in the barren wilderness, how fortunate to have a servant of God show up—a man who offers sacrifices at the temple. Surely, this would be a spiritual, compassionate man who is familiar with the Mosaic law to “love your neighbor as yourself.” The Law also emphasized loving strangers and even rescuing your enemy’s donkey! (See Leviticus 19:18, Micah 6:8, Proverbs 21:13, James 2:13, and Exodus 23:4-5)

What’s the priest do? He deliberately passes the injured man on the other side. Zero compassion is shown. As with the legal expert, the priest’s definition of neighbor doesn’t include this guy. I’m not knocking the priesthood or preachers generally. Rather, Jesus is calling out anyone who knows to do good, has the opportunity, but does nothing. That would include us! That includes me!

Next, a Levite comes by. Levi’s descendants through Aaron were priests. Non-Aaronite descendants served elsewhere as assistants, temple police, and groundskeepers. They were still devoted to religious service and were expected to have a knowledge of the Hebrew Scriptures. 

What does the Levite do? He walks on by. This man likely spent considerable time at the temple doing “religious things” (e.g., ceremonies, traditions), but when it came time to actually help someone in dire need, he flunked the test. 

It’s easy to sit back and condemn these men—shame on them! My early Sunday school teachers often rebuked the flannel versions of these men. But that misses the point! We are these men! We don’t want to get involved—not my problem. We’re busy, in a hurry. We might get hurt ourselves. One commentator calls it, “blind indifference, wretched insensitivity, and careless disregard.”

You might say, “Well, Steve, sometimes I help!”

Great. But what’s the standard? Perfection. We’re to love God with ALL of our heart/soul/strength/mind and to love our neighbors as ourselves. All the time. No exceptions. No margin of error. The law demands utter perfection. 

The truth is we fall far short of this standard. We pass on opportunities every day. That doesn’t make us bad people—we’re human. But the reality is we never fully obey those two primary commands.

The story takes a twist with the arrival of the Samaritan, who was also traveling alone. He has compassion on the poor, bloodied, likely Jewish man. Gentiles rarely traveled that road. It was even rarer to see a Samaritan—the least likely people to help an injured Jew. Samaritans would only travel this road in an emergency. Jews despised Samaritans and vice versa across centuries of conflict. Samaritans were considered ethnically and religiously unclean—descendants of Israelites who had intermarried with pagans in Samaria after the exile to Assyria. Later, Samaritans tried to sabotage the rebuilding of the temple and wall. In 130 B.C., Jews defeated the Samaritans and destroyed their temple. These people hated each other and went out of their way to avoid each other. 

Remarkably, rather than finishing the man off, the Samaritan responds with compassion and empathy. He recognized the need and bore the man’s burdens. Using his own supplies and clothes, he applied wine (an antiseptic) and oil (a balm) and bandaged the man’s wounds. He put the man on his animal—probably a donkey or mule. This was an extraordinary sacrifice, especially for someone he didn’t know. He took care of the man, took him to an inn, paid the bill, and left the account open. He didn’t ask, “Who’s my neighbor?” Rather, it was more like, “Whose neighbor am I?” Answer: Anyone in need!

Have you ever done that? Have you ever set aside everything to help a desperate stranger? How about for an enemy? To that extent?

In my Bible class this morning, two friends shared stories about showing compassion to strangers or enemies. In the first story, a couple took strangers into their home, fed them, and temporarily gave them a place to live. In the second, an American soldier and his team showed compassion to their hungry Iraqi captives by providing them with MREs (food). These are great examples of showing compassion, like the Samaritan. But they are anecdotal. I’m afraid there are far more times when we don’t love our neighbors and show compassion like we should.

You know, there is someone you’ve done this for: yourself! I look after my own needs well. I go to the doctor, fill prescriptions, and pay my bills. I make sure I’m well fed. I might even pamper myself on occasion. If I’m craving coffee, I’ll go out of my way to meet that need. To a lesser extent (truth be told), I do the same for my family members and close friends. You probably do too.

But for a stranger? For an enemy? That’s simply not done, at least not very often. You’ve done some wonderfully generous things in your life, I’m sure. But have you shown love for an enemy the way the Samaritan showed love for this injured Jew? Do you truly love and care for strangers like this all the time? Of course not! Jesus is describing a rare love that has no limits—“loving a neighbor as yourself”. He told this parable to illustrate the impossibly high standard the law sets for us. It’s a rebuke not just to the lawyer but to all of us!

In verses 36-37, Jesus turns the question back on the lawyer: “‘Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?’ He said, ‘The one who showed him mercy.’ And Jesus said to him, ‘You go, and do likewise.’”

And oh, by the way, the law demands that you do it 100% of the time! Deuteronomy 27:26 states, “Cursed be anyone who does not confirm the words of this law by doing them.” James 2:10 adds, “For whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become guilty of all of it.”

At this point in the story, the lawyer should have pleaded for grace and forgiveness. He and we have no hope under the law. We’re all condemned. (See Romans 7:10 & Matthew 5:48). No one who has ever sinned is fit for eternal life. The lawyer should have realized that, and us too!

There’s an even deeper application of this parable. The way the good Samaritan cared for the weary traveler is the way God loves sinners. The way God loves < insert your name >. Actually, God’s love is infinitely more profound and amazing. He didn’t just sacrifice time and money; He gave up His only Son for sinners, rescuing them/us from hell. Romans 5:6-8 states, “For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die—but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” 

Only Jesus lived perfectly and was qualified to pay our price. Through Him, our sins are forgiven and we’re clothed in perfect righteousness. To answer the lawyer’s original question, we inherit eternal life based on Christ’s work on our behalf (See John 5:24, 3:36; 10:27-28; 11:26). Eternal life comes not from legal merit but rather is the gracious inheritance of all who truly put their faith in Christ as Lord and Savior.

The story ends. We don’t know how the lawyer responded. Maybe he doubled down on doing more good deeds, like the Samaritan, to establish his righteousness, missing the point entirely. Perhaps he tried to think of other tough questions to stump Jesus with. There’s no evidence that he repented, though we can’t be sure. He just disappears from the narrative.

The story should certainly motivate us to do good deeds—to care for others in extravagant ways. That includes our enemies—your friend who gossiped about you behind your back, your co-worker who took credit for your work, and the guy who tried to steal your girl. Take that lesson with you. Own it. Wouldn’t it be cool to stand before Jesus one day and hear Him say, “Well done, good and faithful servant. I remember that incredible time when you showed compassion on…”

But if that is our ONLY response to the parable, it is practically the worst response you could have. Don’t leave this story thinking, “If I’m just kinder to strangers, I’m good. I’ve earned my salvation.”

No, the story is meant to cause us to confess our sinful weakness and seek grace and mercy through repentant faith in Jesus Christ—the only One who truly and perfectly fulfilled what the law demands of us.

The story ends without a hint of repentance—that must not be our response to the parable!

Homework for next week: Read the Parable of the Lost Sheep & Coin, Luke 15:1-10.