Reading anew the parable of the Good Samaritan

We often think we know what the parable of the Good Samaritan means: be kind to those who fall at the side of the road. Be a good Samaritan.

But I think there’s a more radical meaning to the parable.

First of all, I think we get Jesus’s question wrong.

Some translations have Jesus asking, “Who was neighbor to the man fallen among robbers?” But I think a more literal translation is “Which of the three made himself neighbor to the man fallen among robbers?” It’s not finding oneself in a place where one attends to one’s neighbor. It’s making oneself neighbor. 

Note the parable. The priest and Levite pass by on the opposite side. But the Samaritan “approached the victim” (NAB), he came close to him (se acercó), came near, drew near (προσέρχομαι). 

He made himself neighbor. 

Why would this outsider, this member of a group despised by observant Jewish leaders, dare to come near – and then care for him?

I would suggest he could do this in part because of he was marginalized, descartado. He had the spiritual resources to see, to come near, and to care for a person who suffered - because he too had suffered, and was suffering. 

Do I have any proof for this?

I cannot point to any scriptural verse. I cannot point to any commentary. But I can point to my experience.

I see around me the poor and despised who can relate to those who suffer and respond.

I find it hard to believe but I am repeatedly awed at the generosity of the poor who respond to beggars, without hesitation. They will reach into their pocket when they see someone asking for help and pull out a few lempiras. I find myself judged stingy and closed when I see the poor continually doing this. 

But in the last year I also have been pondering the phenomenon of brokenness, how it can open us to the brokenness of others and be healed in the brokenness of Jesus. Many years ago, Henri Nouwen wrote Wounded Healer. I have to re-read this. 

Recently Fr. Scott Detisch, in Being Claimed by the Eucharist We Celebrate: a spiritual narrative for priests and deacons, noted:

Our exercise of ministry, fed by the Eucharist, is to make what we do a proclamation of the death of the Lord and, at the same time, a revelation of Christ alive in all the brokenness to which we minister and out of which we minister.

I believe that when we are open to our own brokenness, bring it before the Lord, it can open us to the brokenness of others. Perhaps this is what happened to the Good Samaritan. 

But there is another aspect of facing our own brokenness and responding to the brokenness of others. 

Bishop Erick Varden, in Entering the Twofold Mystery, shares what an old nun told to Sister Emmanuelle of Cairo,

“Open your heart to the hurt of others and your own wound will be healed.”

Opening our heart, going near the broken can heal us – if we are willing to recognize our woundedness, our brokenness. It can also open us even deeper to Jesus who was broken for us. A few months ago, I wrote this prayer in my journal.

Jesus, I come to You in my brokenness. Break open my heart — Enter in me, where the fissures of my broken let light shine through. Break open my heart — so that I may be open to the brokenness of others. Let my brokenness de healing — so that I do not break others. Let my brokenness be a Kairos of diakonia [a decisive time of service], of a heart broken for and with others.