I am a gambler! Oh, I don’t mean the kind that spends Sundays at the local gambling hall. But I find it challenging to try to make it in my car to the next town on empty! My family does not particularly appreciate my gambling instinct, so when they are with me, they have a way of controlling this propensity. But believe it or not, through this “vegetarian” form of gambling I have met many nice people. Perhaps it could even be considered a form of witnessing!

One day I was cooling my heels by the side of the highway in California, on an off ramp. The people in the Lincoln Continentals went by and so did the people wearing the business suits. People with the fancy vans went past, and the Winnebagos as well. Then along came a young man with long hair and a beard, driving a battered pickup. He stopped, and not only took me to get gas, but brought me back and made sure my car was going before he went on his way. I’ve thought a lot about that experience since that time.

The Good Samaritan sometimes is a surprising type of person, isn’t he? It’s an old, old story, but let’s look at it, and maybe we can find something new. Jesus gave a mini-parable in Matthew 13:52, about things old and new.

“Then said he unto them, Therefore every scribe which is instructed unto the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is a householder, which bringeth forth out of his treasure things new and old.”

That’s one of the exciting things about the kingdom of heaven. It’s not possible to exhaust the supply of treasure. We understand that even throughout eternity we will be studying things old and new. And sometimes it is the new twist that brings a breakthrough to someone when he sees truth he hasn’t noticed before. Every new disclosure of the Saviour’s love turns the balance for some soul in one direction or the other.

So let’s look for the old and new in this story of the Good Samaritan, recorded in Luke 10.

The Jewish leaders were out to get Jesus, so they engaged one of their champions, a sharp lawyer, to try to trip Him up. They felt this lawyer was capable of tangling with Jesus. They had hopes that with his fine, argumentative mind, he could get Jesus out on thin ice and then sink Him. The one thing they failed to allow for was that this lawyer they sent to trap Jesus was a sincere seeker for truth himself. And he had been watching Jesus. He was glad for an excuse to initiate personal contact for his own sake.

Beginning with verse 25 of Luke 10,

“And, behold, a certain lawyer stood up, and tempted him, saying, Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?”

This was typical of the religion of his day, and it’s still typical today. Human nature hasn’t changed. Even in the Christian faith, we find that most Christians think of the Christian life in terms of doing, rather than in terms of knowing. One of the truths that Jesus came to present was that the Christian life and eternal life are not based upon what you do, they are based upon Who you know. He is the One who said it in John 17:3,

“This is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent.”

So the Christian life is not based upon behavior, but on relationship. You might expect Jesus to go straight into a discourse on that, but instead, Jesus went on to say, “What is written in the law? How readest thou?” Sounds like a legalistic answer, doesn’t it?

The lawyer responded in kind. “He answering said, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbour as thyself. And he said unto him, Thou hast answered right: this do, and thou shalt live.”

As you know, if you have studied Jesus’ method of teaching, He was not in the habit of giving pat answers. He knew, as the Master Teacher, that the way to teach is to lead the student into an atmosphere where he can discover for himself. Jesus answered the lawyer’s first question by asking him another question. He held his ground. He was leading this man to discover truth for himself, in a novel way, and in a way that he would remember.

The lawyer found himself rattling off the answer to his own question, like a school kid reciting, and apparently he was embarrassed. This wasn’t working out the way he had anticipated. So he tried again to take the discussion to an intellectual plane where he could compete. He came up with another question. Verse 29,

“But he, willing to justify himself, said unto Jesus, And who is my neighbour?”

Who was one’s neighbor was a common question in those days. The Jewish people were not exactly neighborly. In fact, they were known to be quite exclusive. They had long discussions about who should be associated with, and who should be avoided, and the list of ones to avoid was always the longer.

Jesus responded to the lawyer’s question by telling a story, beginning with verse 30.

“And Jesus answering said, A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead. And by chance there came down a certain priest that way: and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. And likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and looked on him, and passed by on the other side.

But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him, and went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him [apparently all night, for] … on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave them to the host, and said unto him, Take care of him; and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee.”

Then Jesus asked the lawyer, “Which now of these, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among thieves? And he said, He that showed mercy on him.” He didn’t want to use the word Samaritan.

Then said Jesus unto him, “Go and do thou likewise.” End of story. Was that really the end of the story? Do you hear a story like the one about the Good Samaritan and find yourself able to go and do likewise? Or was Jesus sending this lawyer to his knees?

Good Samaritans aren’t made by starting a Good Samaritan Club and deliberately choosing to be compassionate. Instead, they are good Samaritans because they can’t help it. The only way this lawyer, who could not even take the name Samaritan on his lips, was to become loving and compassionate, was for him to go to his knees and become acquainted with the One that Jesus represented.

Put Yourself in the Picture

The best way to personalize a Bible story such as this is to put yourself in the picture. When you read about the thief on the cross, you’re the thief on the cross. When you read about the blind man by the side of the road, you’re blind Bartimaeus crying out, “Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy on me.” So when you study the story of the good Samaritan, you’re the good Samaritan…. No you’re not! And I’m not either! At worst, we’re the ones who beat him up in the first place. And at best, we’re the one who was beaten up.

So you are the man, traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho. It’s a trip of about twenty miles. Jerusalem stood at a higher elevation, so you are walking downhill. You walk briskly, for this is not a safe place to loiter. This is a place that has recesses and caves, where thieves and robbers lurk and frequently waylay travelers, as you well know. You go down through a narrow ravine, known as the Valley of Blood, and the inevitable happens. A group of armed men attack you from behind. You haven’t a chance even to defend yourself. They take your money and your watch and even your clothes. And then, as if that were not enough, they mug you and finally leave you unconscious, weltering in your own blood.

You lie there for a long time. Finally you come to. The sun is hot. You try to move, but find you are unable to get up. You groan and struggle, but it’s no use. But there’s good news. You see the preacher coming. Surely the preacher will help. But he doesn’t even slow down. He passes by on the other side of the road and barely glances in your direction.

Don’t Blame the Preacher

Don’t be too hard on the preacher! He may have been late and was hurrying to deliver a sermon at the synagogue in Jericho. Maybe he was even planning to preach on brotherly love. If he hung around the Valley of Blood, where someone had already been done in by the robbers, the same thing might happen to him. It would certainly be the lesser of two evils to leave the man and hurry on to Jericho. The spiritual need of his parishioners certainly should come before the needs of one man who was probably going to die anyway. Surely the priest must have done some rationalizing like this, as he hurried on his way.

You’re getting chilled now. The sun has gone down behind an outcropping of rock, and you lie in the shadows. You’re afraid it’s all over for you, for not many travelers are on the road at this time of day. But good news! Here comes the church treasurer! He not only can help you to safety, but perhaps he can pay for your medical bills and even get you some clothes. Hope rises in your heart as you see him come over to where you are.

You try to speak, but your words only come out as a groan. Your lips are parched; you can hardly move. He looks down at you and then glances quickly around to see if robbers are lurking nearby. And he hurries on toward town.

Of course he must hurry on. He’s carrying a bag filled with the offering money. It wouldn’t be right to risk losing the Lord’s money by staying in a place like this. Furthermore, his wife and children are expecting him, and running the risk of getting beaten up and robbed on the Jericho Road would not be the fatherly thing to do. He must have thought it through carefully as he hurried on his way, pausing now and again to glance back over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being followed.

It looks hopeless now. You struggle again to move, but find you are too weak. You are left dizzy and short of breath from even the attempt. It’s almost dark, and you are chilled to the bone. You try to resign yourself to slowly losing consciousness and giving in to the inevitable. Even if another traveler comes this way, he wouldn’t be likely to see you there, off the side of the road in the shadows.

But you hear footsteps! Can it be possible? You strain your eyes to catch a glimpse of someone approaching-and your heart sinks. Oh! It’s a Samaritan. You know how things are between the Jews and the Samaritans. You know how you have treated Samaritans yourself in the past. And you shrink back inside yourself, knowing that if your roles were reversed, you not only would not help him, you would probably spit in his face.

Who Could Believe It?

The Samaritan slows down. He sees you. You brace yourself for the worst. But he comes closer. He speaks gently to you. “What happened? You’re hurt! Let me help you.” You can’t believe it. He touches you, carefully examining you so as to cause you the least pain possible. He comes close. He begins to bind up your wounds, pouring on the oil and wine. He feels your clammy skin and realizes how cold you are. He takes off his own garment, in spite of the coolness of the evening, and wraps you in its warmth. And then kindly and tenderly he helps you onto his donkey and takes you to the closest inn, all the while encouraging you to hope for a full recovery.

As you sink back into the warmth and comfort of the bed provided for you at the good Samaritan’s expense, you can hardly believe your good fortune. He cares for you all through the long night, and in the morning, when you are feeling stronger, you hear him make arrangements for you to rest there as long as necessary–at his expense! You think about your family and friends and know they will never believe it when you tell them-but you can hardly wait to share the good news of what happened to you on the road to Jericho.

Look Who the Good Samaritan Is!

Let’s redo the story now, with the most exciting part, because this is the story of Jesus. Long ago, the father of our race went down–way down. He went down from a Garden, with two trees, and his wife went with him. They went down, and the race has been going down ever since, degenerating in physical strength, mental power, and moral worth. The thief and robber who stripped them of their garments of light had gone down before them, down from the heavenly courts. He wounded them and left them for dead. The wounded victims tried to stitch fig leaves together to replace the garments he had taken from them. But it didn’t work. And the human race is still on that downward path.

Then the Good Samaritan came. By chance? No, He planned it. He came on purpose. He saw us and had pity on us. He left His home, the safety of His beautiful home, to come down to this world of trouble. He came in contact with us. He touched the untouchables. He is touched with the feelings of our infirmities. He put His robe around us, sacrificing His own life to save ours. He poured in oil and wine, the oil of the Holy Spirit and the wine of His own shed blood. With His stripes we are healed.

And then He takes us to the inn. Do you know where it is? There’s one in your town! It may be a simple building, or it may have steeples and stained glass. But it’s there. And He gives instruction to the innkeepers. If you haven’t found yourself in the story yet, you’d better now! For He says to the innkeepers, “Take care of him. Take care of him, and when I come again, I will repay you.” And now you are one of the innkeepers!

The Good Samaritan doesn’t just stop by once and then disappear. He’s coming back! And He’s promised, “When I come again, I will repay you.”