The Good Samaritan
Luke 10:30–37
Jesus answered, “A certain man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who both stripped him and beat him, and departed, leaving him half dead. By chance a certain priest was going down that way. When he saw him, he passed by on the other side. In the same way a Levite also, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a certain Samaritan, as he traveled, came where he was. When he saw him, he was moved with compassion, came to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. He set him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. On the next day, when he departed, he took out two denarii, gave them to the host, and said to him, ‘Take care of him. Whatever you spend beyond that, I will repay you when I return.’ Now which of these three do you think seemed to be a neighbor to him who fell among the robbers?” He said, “He who showed mercy on him.” Then Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”
World English Bible
The road from Jerusalem to Jericho drops steeply through seventeen miles of switchbacks and shadowed rock, a route so dangerous travelers nicknamed it the Way of Blood. Jesus’ audience knew it well. So when He says a man fell among robbers there, they nod. When a priest appears on the road, they expect rescue. Instead, the priest sees the body and angles to the far side. The Levite does the same. Two men whose careers were God’s house cross the road to avoid God’s image.
Then comes the word the hearers would have braced against: Samaritan. The despised outsider is the one who “was moved with compassion.” And notice that his compassion is not a mood; it is an itinerary. He comes to the man. Binds wounds. Pours his own oil and wine. Hoists him onto his own animal, which means the Samaritan walks. Pays two denarii, two days’ wages, and leaves a blank check: whatever you spend beyond that, I will repay. Mercy, in this story, has line items.
It is worth asking why the priest and Levite passed by. Probably not cruelty, more likely calculation. Risk, ritual concerns, schedule. They had reasons, the way we always do. The Samaritan’s distinction was not superior theology but an interruptible heart. He let someone else’s catastrophe rearrange his day.
The question that prompted the story sought a boundary (who exactly qualifies as my neighbor?), a list short enough to manage. Jesus flips it. The question is not who qualifies for your love, but whether you are becoming the kind of person who proves neighbor to whoever is bleeding in front of you. “Go and do likewise” is not a command to feel warmly about humanity in general. It is a call to compassion with feet, oil, coins, and a willingness to walk so someone else can ride. Somewhere on your road this week there will be a person it would be easier to route around. That moment is what this parable was written for.
Reflect
- Who have I been routing around lately: what person or need do I see and instinctively cross the road to avoid?
- When my compassion stirs, does it become an itinerary (time, money, follow-through), or does it stay a feeling?
- What “good reasons” do I reach for when love would be costly, and would they survive Jesus telling this story about me?
Pray
Ask God to make your heart interruptible, willing to let someone else’s crisis rearrange your day. Confess the times you have crossed to the other side to avoid costly mercy. Thank Jesus that He found you half-dead on the road and paid the whole bill, and ask Him for one opportunity this week to go and do likewise.