Jesus told some wonderful stories.  One of the most familiar is the story that we call “The Good Samaritan.”

“²⁵ And behold, a lawyer stood up to put him to the test, saying, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” ²⁶ He said to him, “What is written in the Law? How do you read it?” ²⁷ And he answered, “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.” ²⁸ And he said to him, “You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live.”

But he, desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” ³⁰ Jesus replied, “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. ³¹ Now by chance a priest was going down that road, and when he saw him he passed by on the other side. ³² So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. ³³ But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion. ³⁴ 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. ³⁵ 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.’ ³⁶ Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?” ³⁷ He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” And Jesus said to him, “You go, and do likewise.” (Luke 10:25-37)

The lawyer knew the verse about loving his neighbor as himself.  It was found in Leviticus 19:18.  The lawyer also knew that this command was very important.  So far, so good.

The lawyer’s problems started with doing love.  That’s where the problem starts for all of us, isn’t it?  When we hear, “Do this, love your neighbor as yourself, and you will live,” we immediately start fudging.  Most of our “fudge factory” churns out excuses.

But we also use definitions as a substitute for obedience. “But who is my neighbor?” we ask.  If we can define the word “neighbor” as narrowly as possible, we can make love more manageable.

The lawyer wanted a definition of the word “neighbor.”  Sounds reasonable.  After all, how can you do something, if you don’t have a definition of what you are doing?

However, Jesus wasn’t having any of it.  Instead of a definition, Jesus provided a story.  And the story involved a Samaritan.

Now, you need to know a bit about the attitude of many first-century A.D. Jews about Samaritans.  Samaritans, who lived just the north of Judah, were regarded as half-breed nobodies by many folks in Judea.  Prejudice is nothing new.

So, for Jesus to tell a story in which a Samaritan was the hero was a radical challenge to many Jews.  It was especially offensive to a good, religious Jew of that time.  Notice that the lawyer won’t even say the word “Samaritan” when Jesus asks the lawyer who showed mercy to the man in distress.  Instead, the lawyer says, “I suppose the one who showed him mercy.”

Now, it is easy for us to get on our high horses about the lawyer, but I doubt that any of us is immune from prejudice.  Those of us who think we are immune are simply in denial.

Fee and Stuart, in their excellent book, How to Read the Bible for All Its Worth, retell the parable of the good Samaritan with an atheist playing the part of the Samaritan.  The authors of the book comment, “One of the authors presented this story once.  The startled and angry response made it clear that his hearers had really ‘heard’ the parable for the first time in their lives.”  When any of us “hears”—really hears—Jesus’ parables, we are likely to be startled and angry.  Jesus is an E. O. E.: an Equal Offense Employer.

So, the lawyer tried to define his way out of obedience, but Jesus parabled him into a dilemma.  And now, the lawyer had a choice.  He could either keep on being startled and angry.  He could continue to try to come up with a definition of “neighbor” that would support his prejudices and make obedience (or rather, partial obedience) possible.

Or the lawyer could take Jesus’ parable to heart, look for someone, anyone, in need, and seek to meet that need.

We are faced with the same choice.  What will we, what will I, choose today?

EPILOGUE: One of my loyal and insightful readers made a wonderful suggestion: He suggested that I unpack the word “help” a bit. Good suggestion! Here is my reply. (And thanks to all you loyal readers, especially those who have suggestions or questions.)

“The Samaritan did first aid, took the injured man to an inn, paid up front for some care by the inn-keeper, and promised to pay more when he came back through.
Help, at least in this story, seems to be a very basic matter of doing what needs to be done.”