REFLECTION

In Luke 10:25, a teacher of the law approaches Jesus and asks, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus responds with a question of His own: “What is written in the Law? How do you read it?” The expert answers correctly, quoting the Scriptures: “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 love your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus affirms his answer and tells him, “Do this and you will live.”

Yet the text tells us that the teacher wanted to justify himself, so he asked a follow-up question: “And who is my neighbor?” In response, Jesus tells the story we now know as the Good Samaritan.

Robbers attacked a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho. They strip him, beat him, steal from him, and leave him half dead. Jesus’ audience would likely have assumed the wounded man was Jewish.

The first person to encounter the wounded man is a priest. The priest shares cultural and religious ties with the victim. More importantly, his role is centered on helping people connect with God. His work requires constant interaction with humanity. Yet when he sees the injured man, he chooses to pass by on the other side.

The priest’s willful avoidance paints a troubling picture of a religious leader who can recognize and honor people within religious spaces but fails to recognize their humanity in the realities of everyday suffering. In modern terms, it resembles moments when we engage people primarily within religious settings while overlooking their everyday struggles outside those settings. 

The story invites us to ask difficult questions. Where was the priest going that was so urgent? Was urgency really the issue, or was it indifference? Did he simply fail to value the life lying before him? Imagine what happened after the priest walked away. Perhaps he continued on to lead worship, offer prayers, sing songs, and perform every expected religious duty. Yet somewhere behind him lay a man whose life hung in the balance. The priest’s lack of concern for the wounded man revealed far more about the condition of his heart than the title he carried. His failure was not a lack of knowledge, religious training, or spiritual commitment. His failure reflects the inability to allow his theology to shape the way he responded to human suffering. 

The priest teaches us that we can spend our lives pointing people toward eternal life while neglecting the realities of life here and now. Jesus refuses to separate the two.

The next person to arrive is a Levite. Like the priest, the Levite is Jewish. Levites were set apart for service in the temple and played a significant role in worship. Their responsibilities regularly placed them in close contact with people. While priests occupied a higher social position, both priests and Levites were vital figures within the religious life of Israel. What is especially jarring is that the Levite does more than simply ignore the wounded man. He creates distance. The text tells us that he passes by on the other side of the road. He physically separates himself from the suffering before him, as though distance could absolve him of responsibility. We often do the same.

Sometimes we distance ourselves from pain through geography, moving into spaces where suffering is less visible. Sometimes we do it through economics, insulating ourselves once we achieve a certain level of comfort. Sometimes we do it socially, building lives almost exclusively around people who share our experiences, perspectives, or identities. Yet distance does not diminish our responsibility to love our neighbor.

Jesus intentionally includes both the priest and the Levite because the audience would immediately understand the significance. These were not random bystanders. They were respected religious figures. They represented authority, knowledge, influence, and spiritual leadership. If anyone should have stopped, it was them. The people most expected to show compassion failed to do so.

Then the story turns to a Samaritan. As we saw in the story of the woman at the well, the relationship between Jews and Samaritans was marked by generations of hostility and distrust. Samaritans were viewed with suspicion and often contempt. Yet it is the Samaritan who stops. More than that, he does everything the others refused to do. Where the priest ignored the wounded man, the Samaritan gave him his attention. Where the Levite created distance, the Samaritan chooses proximity.

He approaches the man. He touches him. He tends to his wounds. He pours oil and wine on them, soothing and disinfecting them. He places the injured man on his own animal, taking on the burden of walking himself. He brings him to an inn and cares for him through the night. He pays for his lodging and promises to return and cover any additional expenses. The Samaritan gives his time, his resources, his comfort, and his energy for the sake of someone who likely belonged to a community that looked down upon him. When Jesus asks which of the three proved to be a neighbor, the expert in the law knows the answer. “The one who had mercy on him.” 

Mercy is what transforms a stranger into a neighbor.