What is the meaning of the Parable of the Good Samaritan?

Some have hastily concluded, in reading the parable of the good Samaritan, that the Lord answered the question, "Who is my neighbour?" by pointing out that wherever there is need we should do our duty towards our neighbour. But it should be observed that the man who fell among thieves is not mentioned as a neighbour towards whom the other acts, but the Samaritan was neighbour unto him. This is another principle of acting altogether to what was in the lawyer's mind when he said, "Who is my neighbour?" and stands out in contrast with it, because the lawyer merely wished to justify himself; i.e. to have clearly defined those who had any claim upon him, that he might have no outstanding debts. We know for ourselves the satisfaction in being able to say, "I owe nothing." Thus what prompted that question was really love to himself, and not love to his neighbour. Where love is in exercise, it asks not Who? but has its own delight in acting apart from the question of who deserves it. And this is the principle of grace which is here shown out in contrast to the principle of law, which was the fulfilling of duty towards one's neighbour. The one is meeting claim, the other is meeting need apart from the question of claim altogether.

The Good Samaritan. — An honest inquirer, really anxious, would probably have been dumb. But the lawyer, willing [or desiring] to justify himself, asked, "Who is my neighbour?" The question asked, the answer came in a way that the man never expected. For the Lord proceeded to speak of the Good Samaritan; whether a parable or a history is not stated, and really it matters not. Had the lawyer answered his own question, he would doubtless have confined the thought of neighbour to one of his own nation, virtually confounding neighbour with brother. For all Israelites in the law were regarded as brethren (Deut. 23:19-20). But a neighbour is a more comprehensive term. This the Samaritan's act brings out. The priest and the Levite passed by the wounded one on the other side. The Samaritan did not. He noticed him. He had compassion on him. The man, beaten and half dead, had gone down from Jerusalem, and probably would, in health, have refused any intercourse with a Samaritan. The latter, however, thought not of the enmity between the races. He saw one in distress, and, whoever he might be, he would minister to him. The teacher of the law passed by. The doer of the law — the Samaritan — personally ministered to, and amply cared for the injured one. Who was that poor man's neighbour? Constrained to answer, the lawyer described him characteristically; but carefully, it would seem, abstained from mentioning his nationality: "He that shewed mercy on him," were the words. "Go and do thou likewise," was the answer of the Lord. Here the incident terminates. Did these words of Christ ring in the ear and find a place in the heart? That we shall never know this side of death, nor what the lawyer felt, as again he had to answer to his own confusion. Little did he think to whom he was approaching, when he brought his question to the Lord.

Scripture Misapplied. — We know the use to which this portion has been often put, making it a gospel subject, and thereby presenting the Lord as the Good Samaritan. It is a very old application, but surely a mistaken one. The point inculcated is loving one's neighbour as one's self. How could we apply that to the Lord who made atonement for us? Did He do for others as He would wish should be done for Himself? Then knowing, as we do, the light in which a Jew regarded a Samaritan (John 8:48), and the light in which the Lord regarded them (John 4:22), it is inconceivable that He meant to speak of Himself under the guise of one of that race; and further — this clenches the matter — the moral of the story is, "Go and do thou likewise," an application impossible for any one of us, if the good Samaritan were a personification of our Saviour. "None can by any means redeem his brother, nor give to God a ransom for him" (Psalm 49:7), holds good, and must for ever, as far as we are concerned. The real point, too, in the Lord's teaching must be eliminated, if we use it as an illustration of the gospel. The remark of Calvin on such and kindred applications may well be quoted: "I acknowledge that I have no liking for any of these interpretations; but we ought to have a deeper reverence for Scripture than to reckon ourselves at liberty to disguise its natural meaning. And, indeed, any one may see that the curiosity of certain men has led them to contrive these speculations contrary to the intention of Christ." If we keep in view the reason for the introduction of the Good Samaritan, and remember the application to be made of it, we shall be preserved from such fanciful expositions.

The lawyer set out to entrap the Lord, and now found himself entrapped by his own answer. Desirous of justifying himself, he enquired who was his neighbour; as though he would infer that, granted he had sufficiently attractive neighbours, he would find no difficulty in loving them. This enquiry was met by the parable concerning the Samaritan, and the lawyer was left to judge who was the neighbour. Again the man answered rightly in spite of the antipathy felt by the Jew for the Samaritan. Thus judging, he answered his own question, and was left under the obligation of acting as the Samaritan on the one hand, and loving the Samaritan as himself on the other.

The lawyer therefore asks what it is that he must do. The answer was plain: the law (with all its ordinances, its ceremonies, all the conditions of God's government, which the people had broken, and the violation of which led to the judgment announced by the prophets — judgment that should be followed by the establishment, on God's part, of the kingdom in grace) — the law, I say, contained the kernel of the truth in this respect, and distinctly expressed the conditions of life, if man was to enjoy it according to human righteousness — righteousness wrought by himself, by which he himself should live. These conditions were summed up in a very few words — to love God perfectly, and one's neighbour as oneself. The lawyer giving this summary, the Lord accepts it and repeats the words of the Lawgiver: "This do, and thou shalt live." But man has not done it and is conscious that he has not. As to God he is far away; man easily gets rid of Him; he will render Him some outward services and make his boast in them. But man is near; his selfishness makes him alive to the performance of this precept, which, if observed, would be his happiness — make this world a kind of paradise. Disobedience to it is repeated every moment, in the circumstances of each day, which bring this selfishness into play. All that surrounds him (his social ties) makes man conscious of these violations of this precept, even when the soul would not of itself be troubled about it. Here the lawyer's heart betrays itself. Who, he asks, is my neighbour?

The Lord's answer exhibits the moral change which has taken place through the introduction of grace — through the manifestation of this grace in man, in His own Person. Our relationships with one another are now measured by the divine nature in us, and this nature is love. Man under the law measured himself by the importance he could attach to himself, which is always the opposite of love. The flesh gloried in a nearness to God which was not real, which did not belong to participation in His nature. The priest and the Levite pass by on the other side. The Samaritan, despised as such, did not ask who was his neighbour. The love that was in his heart made him a neighbour to any one who was in need. This is what God Himself did in Christ; but then legal and carnal distinctions disappeared before this principle. The love that acted according to its own impulses found the occasion of its exercise in the need that came before it.

This sets forth, then, the difficulties of the legal mind; it is a technicality: he cannot understand what is meant by his "neighbour." Intellectually it was no such feat to penetrate the meaning of that word, "neighbour." But the consequences morally were grave; if it meant what it said, had he ever in his life felt and acted as if he had a neighbour? He gave it up, therefore. It was a mysterious something that the elders had nowhere solved, a case that was not yet ruled in the Sanhedrim, — what was meant by this inscrutable "neighbour." Alas! it was the fallen heart of man that wanted to get out of a plain duty, but a duty which demanded love, the last thing in the world he possessed. The great difficulty was himself; and so he sought to justify himself — an utter impossibility! For in truth he was a sinner; and the thing for him is to confess his sins. Where one has not been brought to own himself, and to justify God against himself, all is wrong and false; everything of God is misunderstood, and His word seems darkness, instead of light.

Mark how our Lord puts the case in the beautiful parable of the good Samaritan. It was, if I may so say of Him as a man, the single eye and the heart that perfectly understood what God was, and enjoyed it; that never, therefore, had difficulty in finding out who was his neighbour. For, in truth, grace finds a neighbour in every one that needs love. The man that needs human sympathy, that needs divine goodness and its clear testimony, though it be through a man upon the earth, he is my neighbour. Now, Jesus was the only man who was walking in the whole power of divine love, though, I need not say, this was but a little part of His glory. As such, therefore, He found no riddle to solve in the question, Who is my neighbour?

What follows is in Luke alone. After the essence of the statement of the law, the Lord shews to him who would justify himself by a cavil on the terms, that grace, the new and blessed principle of God's dealings, makes us, by its own nature, the neighbour of every one that has need, and obliterates, by its divine nature, the divisions formed by ordinance which work no grace, but, with the heart such as it is, tend to nourish pride by distinguishing him to whom they belong. The bearing of this instruction, and its deep moral character, are evident.

369 Grace (chap. 10) sends a final message before His face, but carrying judgment with it if rejected; but the messengers must now have their joy in Heaven where Christ was going. And Christ accepts in perfectness His Father's orderings as to it, and gets thus into the sense of the true and glorious secret - He was the Son, and no man could know Him but the Father He was revealing, and none could but He the Father, and that the world would not. He revealed Him to whom He would. Still, blessed the eyes which were given to see what was then seen. Then the Law is morally turned into grace as to man down here. It is not: "Who is my neighbour?" But to whom am I neighbour as the good Samaritan was? Priests and Levites are not grace.

This parable is the Lord's answer to the lawyer's question. And who is my neighbour? A conscience not at ease finds difficulties; the heart that is animated by love answers at once, because it finds none. Every sorrow or need makes an appeal to it, and never in vain. Flesh under law being self-occupied, has neither room nor time for others.

"A certain man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho; and he fell among robbers, who, having stripped and beaten him, departed, leaving him half dead. And by coincidence a certain priest was going down by that way; and on seeing him passed on the other side. And likewise also a Levite, when he came to the place and saw, passed on the other side. But a certain Samaritan on journey came to him, and when he saw him was moved with compassion, and came up and bound his wounds, pouring on oil and wine; and setting him on his own beast he brought him to an inn, and took care of him. And on the morrow he took out and gave two denaries to the inn-keeper, and said to him, Take care of him; and whatsoever thou shalt spend more, I at my coming back will repay thee. Which of these three, seemeth to thee to have been neighbour of him that fell among the robbers? And he said, He that showed him mercy. And Jesus said to him, Go and do thou likewise" (vers. 30-37).

The parable was not really an answer to the lawyer's question as to what he should do, but an answer to his question, "Who is my neighbour?", and in the answer we have a wonderful manifestation of the compassions of God in Christ.

If neither the priest nor the Levite could do anything for the man, it is perfectly evident that this Samaritan brought everything with him.

As a matter of fact his question spoiled the atmosphere of the chapter. The Lord had sent out the 70 disciples on a special mission of grace. He was occupied with names written in heaven, with the Father being revealed, with the wonderful fruits of grace. He ‘rejoiced in spirit’ (v. 21) and pronounced a special blessing on the eyes that saw these wonderful things (v. 23) — things that had never been told before. But the lawyer appears completely insensitive to the lofty atmosphere of the moment. His question is an entirely legalistic one: ‘What shall I do …?’ or, ‘having done what …?’

However, the Lord does not send this man away with a harsh answer. His response aims at two things: to convict the self-righteous lawyer of his ruin and failure to keep the law, and to present the mercy of God. How does He do this? First, He points out that the requirement of the law is to love God and to love one’s neighbour as oneself (something no honest person would claim to fulfil). Second, when the lawyer seeks to evade the issue by asking ‘who is my neighbour?’ the Lord tells the parable of the Samaritan. In doing so He makes it clear that true mercy is only found with God. It is only the despised Samaritan who loves his neighbour as himself. Where all men had failed the Lord goes back to divine love, to the touching tale of one who, after priest and Levite had walked past, came to the place of need (‘where he was’: v. 33). This is what it meant to love one’s neighbour as oneself — and if the lawyer, as all others, had failed in this then he, as all others, needed to recognise himself as fallen amongst thieves and in need of (not ‘doing something’ but) the grace and mercy of the Samaritan.