Repaving the Road

         One day, a man was walking down the well-worn road from Jerusalem to Jericho. He had traveled the road many times before, but the journey on this particular day was one he would never forget. Around midday, he came upon a group of men traveling in the opposite direction, and just as he passed them, they ambushed him from behind. The next few moments were a blur. When he awoke on the roadside, he felt searing pain throughout entire body, and he realized they had taken everything—even his clothes, his food, and his water. Physically and emotionally, he could not bring himself to move.

As he lay alone praying for deliverance, he thought of the many rumors he had heard of robberies along the road to Jericho. In fact, many referred to it as the “Way of Blood.” Yet, having never experienced anything of the sort himself, he had never feared for his safety. Finally, a man was approaching. Better yet, a priest! Surely he would help. But as soon as the priest was near enough to see his blood and nakedness, quickening his pace he crossed to the other side of the road and avoided looking over. About fifteen minutes later, another man came along. This time a Levite. But he, like the priest, wanted no part of whatever had left this man in his unfortunate state. 

A short time later, a third man—a Samaritan—journeyed toward him. He, however, did not cross to the far side of the road as the others had. Instead, he approached the man, came down from his donkey, and knelt at his side. The Samaritan gave him water to drink and treated some of his sizeable wounds. The Samaritan carefully saddled him on the donkey and walked alongside until they came to an inn. The Samaritan spent the night at his side, caring for him and showing him compassion. The following morning, the Samaritan was gone before the man had a chance to say goodbye, but he learned from the innkeeper that the Samaritan had left enough money for his continued rest and recovery at the inn.

This is an imaginative retelling of a familiar parable we know as “The Good Samaritan.” Jesus teaches that this Samaritan man demonstrates what it means to love his neighbor. For many Christians, it is probably the exemplar that most readily comes to mind when we consider what loving our neighbor looks like. Now in Jesus’ cultural context, this parable laid bare a scandal: the Samaritan and the Jew were neighbors. And suffice it to say that Jesus’ story is meant to suggest that everyone is your neighbor. In a single short narrative, Jesus calls for the tearing down of the boundaries that had been constructed around the commandment to love.

But—to my modern ears—there is something strangely unsatisfying about the conclusion of Jesus’ parable. Without question, the message delivered about the indivisibility of our “neighbor”-hood is as relevant today as it was in 1^st century Israel. However, in a 21^st century democratic society, we ought also show collective concern for the future of the man who was beaten and robbed. Let’s suppose that a week later, the man was well enough to leave the inn and return home. The innkeeper used the last of the Samaritan’s money to furnish the man with new clothes for his journey. Only one question remains: What road will the man take home?

In this moment in our country’s history, our economy can be likened to the road to Jericho in Jesus’ parable. With climbing poverty rates and historic levels of inequality, some of us cruise down the road to Jericho so preoccupied with our own well-being that we do not—or pretend not to—see our neighbor who is lying beside the road. Sure, there are “good Samaritans” on the road. You are probably one of them sometimes. Yet despite our good intentions and sincere efforts, more of our neighbors are in need than ever before. As Dr. King put it, “We are called to be the Good Samaritan, but after you lift so many people out of the ditch you start to ask, maybe the whole road to Jericho needs to be repaved.”

/ryan/