The Good Samaritan -- Which One Are We?

I’m guessing most folks out there have heard the story of the Good Samaritan found in the New Testament. In case you haven’t, or you don’t really recall all the details sufficiently for it to be useful as one of life’s metaphors, here’s a quick refresher:

  In Biblical times Judea and Samaria shared a border. The people of these nations also shared an intense hatred for each other, for reasons I won’t get into here. Suffice it to say each felt their neighbors were about two steps below scum of the earth.

  In this context Jesus tells the following story to a lawyer who wants to know the definition of a ‘neighbor’: One day a traveler was making his way along the road from Jerusalem to Jericho. His nationality is not explicitly stated but it’s pretty clear from the context he’s a Jew. The road to Jericho had been notorious as being the ‘Way of Blood’ due to all the robberies that took place there, and this poor soul became the next statistic. He was attacked by thieves, robbed, beaten, and left for dead on the side of the road.

  In time a priest happens along the road, sees the man laying there, and passes by on the other side. Then follows a Levite – not a priest, but still a member of the Israelite tribe that was especially tasked with providing men for the priesthood – who also passes by on the other side. It isn’t until a Samaritan (of all people!) happens along and feels compassion for the man’s plight that the victim finally is picked up, cleaned off, and taken to an inn to recover at the Samaritan’s expense.

  The obvious lesson here is that the two passersby that one would expect should be inspired to help, did not. It was the guy that probably had a lot of reasons not to, that did. Now to be fair to the priest and the Levite, we shouldn’t assume that they saw the man and actually went out of their way to avoid him. Maybe they were already on the other side of the road and just kept going. Perhaps they didn’t realize he was still alive and just assumed he was another unfortunate victim (then again, they didn’t check). Maybe they were on more important missions that meant they couldn’t spare the time. All these factors have been debated by scholars, though I feel that’s missing the point: this story was a parable, not a history. This wasn’t an actual anecdote about four real people. It was a tale made to illustrate a point, and so I feel we should just stick to the obvious lesson.

  All that aside, the reason so many people are at least passingly familiar with the story is that it is often used as an example of charity without prejudice. And I think it’s common for those folks that like to use this tend to identify with the Samaritan. We all like to be the good guys, right?

  I’m a sucker for fun adventure movies, and one that I really like from about ten years ago was ‘Jack The Giant Slayer’ starring Nicholas Hoult and Stanley Tucci. It has a lot of funny parts, and a few very profound ones as well, and one line in particular struck me that I don’t usually see in movies like this. Tucci’s character Roderick, the bad guy, is about to finish off Elmont (played by Ewan McGregor), the captain of the king’s guard. He observes, “YOU think you’re the hero of this story. Don’t you know, we ALL think that?”

  And that is very, very true. It’s not a bad thing, really, that we see ourselves as the hero. It can inspire us to better behavior. On the downside, though, we can often lull ourselves into a false sense of superiority in seeing ourselves as the Samaritan when in practice we are more like the Levite: always too busy to stop, or convincing ourselves that the poor soul on the side of the road is beyond any help we could give without really having a look to be sure. Or even worse, to feel the other guy has done something to deserve this misfortune, and who are we to question the judgement of God, Karma,  or the Fates?

  The irony of this point of view is that nearly all moral systems, whether they are based on formal religion, individualized spirituality, or altruistic secularism, promote the practice of charity without any conditions. There is no allowance made nor exception granted for how busy we are, or how important we may feel our tasks may be, or especially for passing judgement on the recipient’s worthiness.

  This makes sense since quite often it’s hard for us to appreciate the struggles another has experienced. How can we rank the moral superiority of our duties versus another’s immediate need? How can we assess the justifiability of the events that left this victim bereft? Moral systems as a rule lay the real benefit of showing compassion and charity towards another in the lap of the giver – more so if this involves some sacrifice on our part, and even if the other guy did bring his fate down upon himself.

  I think it’s a useful exercise for all of us to take some time every so often to dust off this old saw and have a look at how we fit into it, especially when we see that metaphorical heap on the side of the road and we’re debating if we should stop or not.