The Good Samaritan parable is a bit of an enigma. Who is the saved and who is the savior? On the surface, a Samaritan saves the life of a Jew. A typical homily presents everyone as a neighbor, and we are to show charity to all because it is a Christian duty to be kind to others, even our enemies. In the light of Matthew 25:31-45, a deeper significance rises to the surface. The parable dramatizes not only our relationship with others, but also with God. If we dare to call ourselves Christians, then we should imitate our founder, Jesus Christ.
Immediately prior to the parable, a lawyer inquires about inheriting eternal life (Luke 10:25). Salvation, therefore, is the context. The lawyer, it would seem, is unsatisfied with Jesus’ affirmation of loving his neighbor. He wants an example, and Jesus doesn’t disappoint.
Jesus doesn’t identify the man headed to Jericho as Jewish. He is easily an everyman—a representative of all. The Jews considered the temple as emblematic of Heaven, so the man’s geographical descent from Jerusalem to Jericho illustrates a moral fall: Jerusalem is 2500 feet above sea level; Jericho is -846 feet below. He’s so “of the world” that it swallows him inside (cf. Romans 12:2, John 17:14-16).
Jericho was the first Canaanite city the Israelites conquered after they entered the Promised Land, so the man’s plunge to it points to a disturbing reversion to paganism. When robbers—Satan’s demons—strip the man of his clothes, they remove his Christian identity: the armor of God, the breastplate of Righteousness, the shield of Truth, and the helmet of Salvation. Exactly what happens to us when we continually embrace sin. Everyone does; it’s only a question of degree. If imitating Our Lord were easy, everyone would be saints.
Notice how perfunctorily the Samaritan renders the man, despite knowing full well the Jewish dislike for him and his people. It’s simply the right thing to do. Forgiveness accompanies his mercy.
As a messianic figure, the Samaritan who saves the beaten man is Jesus. Our spiritual wounds, no matter how deep or how metastasized, are not beyond the expertise of the Divine Physician. Jesus is the one who descends from Heaven where the New Jerusalem is (cf. Revelation 3:12, 21:2, 21:9). He allows them to strip Him of His clothes. He’s beaten by robbers and thieves—the Romans, via their oppressive taxation, and the Jewish leadership, via their envy. For Christ, the inn is the tomb, and three days later, He rises transformed.
The Samaritan brings the victim to an inn—the Church—where he will return and compensate the owner for all costs. This reflects his inexhaustible forgiveness and mercy. He doesn’t say, “I’ll pay two denarii now another two when I return.” Whatever the cost, he will reimburse the innkeeper. The mercy that flows through the Church is limitless because it’s from Christ. Whatever is necessary, Jesus will provide.
We can infer that the injured man makes a plea for help—either a cry or a wave of his hand—which the Pharisee and the priest ignore. According to Saint Augustine, Jesus will not save us without our consent. Therefore, it’s reasonable to infer that the injured man made a noticeable request for aid. The priests and Pharisees in the parable are the poster boys for the self-righteous. They’re too good to be bothered. At Calvary, they wanted Jesus to descend back to earth so they don’t have to endure the sacrifice required to achieve Heaven. They even mock him, saying, “He saved others; he cannot save himself” (Matthew 27:42).
Forgiveness and mercy are the least we can do. After all, He prayed for us for when we turned our backs on Him. If Jesus’ salvific act transcends forward through time, then the sins we commit today reach back and nail Him to the cross. His request cuts through the curtain of time to reach us in the confessional.
However, at the same time, we are also the Samaritan and Jesus the victim. In Matthew 25:31-46, Jesus describes the fate of individuals, categorizing them as sheep and as goats, i.e. those who will be in paradise and those who will be in Hell. The sheep, like the Samaritan, are the ones who cared for the hungry, the injured, and the imprisoned. The goats did not. What is the discriminating factor? They recognized the afflicted as images of Christ in His passion. The goats ignored them. The charitable Samaritan would be among the sheep. The arrogant priest and Pharisee would be numbered among the goats.
Christ as the savior as well as the victim is an odd thing, but He’s clear about how the downtrodden are images of Himself. Therefore, we need to show to others the same mercy He showed us from the cross. The Gospels are replete with healings to those who were considered the least of humanity—lepers, the deaf, and the blind. Like the Samaritan, He is predisposed to heal, even from the cross. “Father, forgive them.” This is the ultimate healing because without Divine Forgiveness we will perish in Hell for eternity.
Even though He is God, Christ didn’t avenge Himself, even though He certainly possessed the power. When we are unjustly persecuted, we reflect Our Lord. Especially when we follow His command from the Sermon on the Mount, “Pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:44). Jesus does this from the cross when He says, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). Our Lord prayed for His persecutors, and He prayed for us (cf. John 17:20-21). We show mercy to others because Christ first showed it to us.
Forgiveness and mercy towards all are the attitudes with which we are to treat others. More than a moral requirement, it’s how we imitate Christ. If we want to live in Paradise, we must model our lives after Him. Caring for the sick and the dying. Aiding the poor. Forgiving His enemies. Showing charity all the way to the cross and His death. By invoking God’s grace, we do this to the best of our abilities.
He praised the lawyer for his answer because He embodies the answer. He is after all the one who always honored His father and His mother, never stole even though He was poor all His life, always edified those nearby, and never desired to take from others. Rather, He wants to give us what we need the most. Be like Jesus, and you will live more fruitfully and abundantly than ever before.
Campagnola, D. (16th century). The Good Samaritan [painting]. Retrieved from FineArtAmerica.
