Then a despised Samaritan came along, and when he saw the man, he felt compassion for him. [Luke 10:33 (NLT)]
The hatred between Jews and Samaritans began in 930 BC when Solomon’s son Rehoboam was king and the united kingdom of Israel divided. Ten tribes rebelled and made Jeroboam king of the northern kingdom of Israel whose capital was Samaria. Only the tribes of Judah and Benjamin along with the Levitical priesthood remained in the southern kingdom of Judah. Fearing a change of alliance if people returned to Jerusalem to worship, Jeroboam set up his own worship centers in the north.
After Israel was conquered by Assyria in 772 BC, some of the northern kingdom’s Jews were taken into captivity but many of the poor and uneducated Jews remained. Assyria repopulated the land with Gentiles who brought their pagan gods and beliefs with them. Wanting to appease the god of the land after a series of lion attacks on the new settlers, Assyria’s king sent back an exiled priest to teach them about Israel’s Jehovah. As a result, Samaritan Judaism became an odd mix of paganism and Judaism. Only the five books of Moses were recognized as Scripture, many Jewish traditions were rejected, and idols were worshipped along with the God of Israel.
When the southern kingdom’s Jews began returning after their Babylonian exile, the Samaritans interfered with the rebuilding of Jerusalem and tried to undermine Judah’s relationship with their Persian rulers. Since the Samaritans were not welcome to worship in the Jerusalem Temple, they erected their own temple on Mt. Gerizim. Adding more fuel to the fire, they aligned themselves with the Seleucids during the Maccabean wars. Around 113 BC, Judah’s Jews destroyed the Samaritan temple and around 9 AD, some Samaritans snuck into Jerusalem on Passover and defiled the Temple with human remains.
Samaritans were a continual source of difficulty for the Jews of the south. Controlling the land between Galilee and Jerusalem, they regularly harassed pilgrims on their way to worship in Jerusalem. Because of the intermarriage between the Jews and Gentiles of Samaria, Samaritans were considered “half-breeds” by Jews. Considering them racially and theologically contaminated, Judeans had a proverb: “A piece of bread given by a Samaritan is more unclean than swine’s flesh.”
Bitter, intolerant, and hostile toward one another, the relationship between Samaritans and Judeans was like that between Protestants and Catholics during the troubles in Northern Ireland or Israelis and Palestinians today. This is the world in which we find Jesus telling the parable of the Good Samaritan with the unlikely hero being a Samaritan (the very people known to harass travelers).
We know this parable was in response to the question, “Who is my neighbor?” but let’s back up one chapter to see what preceded it. Jesus and the disciples were on their way to Jerusalem. Rather than taking the longer walk around Samaria, they were walking right through it. When Jesus sent messengers into a Samaritan village to make sleeping and eating arrangements, they were not welcomed. Although Jesus previously told the disciples to simply shake the dust from their feet if a town refused to welcome them, John and James suggested calling down fire from heaven to destroy the village. Luke says Jesus rebuked them but we don’t know what He said.
Part of their rebuke may be found in the story of the Good Samaritan. The parable could have been as much for His disciples (especially James and John) as it was for the legal expert who asked the identity of his neighbor. Jesus easily could have made his point with a Roman soldier as the story’s unlikely hero, but He didn’t. Although the Samaritans had been unneighborly in snubbing Him, Jesus deliberately chose a Samaritan to teach a lesson about neighbors! That parable told the disciples that, even when our neighbor is inhospitable and slights us, he still is our neighbor. Whether or not someone helps us, we are to help them and, when someone offends us, we’re not to take offense. We do unto others as we would like them to do to us and not as they’ve done to us!
Although there are about 800 Samaritans still living in Israel, the word “Samaritan” for most of us refers to someone who helps other people, especially strangers, when they have trouble. How ironic that the despised “pagan half-Jews of the Old Testament” (as one writer called them) took a place of honor in the New!
The first question which the priest and the Levite asked was: “If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?” But the good Samaritan reversed the question: “If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?” [Martin Luther King, Jr.]
The two were seated next to us on the patio; the frail elderly woman was the mother and the younger woman her daughter. After pondering the menu, the mother had all sorts of questions about it. In no rush to order, she dithered over her entrée choice and, once food was served, she lingered over it. As I observed the two women, I could see and hear the daughter’s growing frustration and impatience with her mother. They reminded me of the times I took my mother-in-law out to lunch. Having “been there and done that,” I wanted to tell the daughter to be patient. One day, mom would be gone and she’d wish they had more days together.
As much as I enjoy reading the works of authors like C.S. Lewis, A.W. Tozer, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and N.T. Wright, I admit to not always understanding exactly what they’re saying. Nevertheless, thinking me an expert, a friend sent me an article written by a well-known Christian theologian and asked for my thoughts. Unfortunately, I had none because I couldn’t make sense of it. When I reluctantly admitted my bewilderment, my friend admitted the same. Although we both tried to understand the author, neither of us could discern his point. He appeared to have used a great many fancy words to say very little. While another scholar might make sense of his words, we two reasonably intelligent believers couldn’t. Unfortunately, some pastors, theologians, Christian writers, and fellow believers unnecessarily complicate faith and our relationship with God.
Monday’s devotion (“No Words of Comfort”) originally was published back in 2018. It came to mind because my son-in-law recently died. His death was sudden and unexpected and, when my daughter told me, I was sure I’d misunderstood her words. Not Mike! Still a young man in the prime of his life; it couldn’t be, but it was! Just as we all know we’re going to die someday, we know the people we love will die. It’s just that we expect those deaths to be on our timeline. But they’re not—they’re on God’s. The only guarantee that comes with life on earth is that it will end!
The next day would have been Sally’s wedding anniversary but, because it marked the six-month anniversary of her husband’s death, there would be no celebration. Instead of flowers, dinner, and romance, there would be tears. That morning, Sally called her step-mother, Sue, to share her dread of the following day. When telling us this, Sue admitted to being at a loss for words of consolation. A woman of faith and an ordained pastor, Sue’s difficulty in finding comforting words was because her step-daughter is Jewish. When Sue married Sally’s Jewish father, she respected her new family’s faith just as they respected hers. They knew her beliefs and what she did for a living and Sue gladly answers their questions. Nevertheless, she chooses her words carefully when speaking of the Lord and neither evangelizes nor condemns. Although her words that morning were as reassuring as they could be without speaking of Jesus, Sue knew they were nowhere near as comforting as they could have been.
Devotions of the Heart 