Current Lessons in the Parable of the Good Samaritan: Focusing on the Weightier Matters of the Law

We often fail to help people in need because we are focused on the good things we are doing

I have been involved in the faith-based legal aid organization, Administer Justice, in different capacities for about 12 years. I am an attorney. AJ is an organization founded by an attorney, Bruce Strom, who left his lucrative law practice to provide pro bono (free) legal services for people who can’t afford a lawyer. AJ helps churches run Gospel Justice Centers.

Bruce’s book, Gospel Justice, describes his calling and the journey he began over 20 years ago. Gospel Justice follows the familiar parable of the Good Samaritan and what it means to love your neighbor as God commands. Implicit in the parable is the question: who is my neighbor?

I have learned recently, that parables were common in the rabbinical tradition of the time, and the set up of a priest, a Levite and a third person was a common parable structure. It is the equivalent to the modern set up for a joke: a priest, an Irishman, and a Scotsman walk into a bar…..

According to Marty Solomon of the BEMA Podcast, the third person (the one through whom the lesson is learned) was often a Pharisee in the rabbinical Jewish tradition of the First Century. Jesus turned the tables by making the third person a Samaritan.

Samaritans had Hebrew DNA. They were ancestors of the Israelites who were left behind during the exile. They had intermarried and changed their religious practices to accommodate their mixed marriages and life without the Temple. The Jewish remnant that returned to rebuild the Temple saw them as mongrels who abandoned the faith. For Centuries, Samaritans were despised by the Jews who rebuilt the Temple and carried on the traditions of the Mosaic Law.

The priests and Levites represent good, religious people and the devotion to traditional values. They represent respectable, hard-working people who have faithfully kept those traditional values through hundreds of years of faithful adherence in difficult times.

When the priest and Levite in the parable pass by the anonymous, injured man on the road, we react with modern sensibilities that are honed by two millennia of Christian thought, tradition, and conditioning to judge them. First Century Pharisees, however, would have viewed the situation differently.

The injured man had no identify. They might have wondered who he was. (Raising the question: who is my neighbor?) Pharisees and Sadducees may have disagreed on whether aid should be offered to Gentiles, but they would have agreed that the mongrel Samaritans did not merit their aid.

They also would have recognized that the priest and the Levite had good reasons to pass over to the other side of the road and keep going. Among other things, priests were forbidden to touch a corpse. (Lev. 21:1–3) Touching a corpse, or even being in the same space as a corpse meant impurity, and they needed to maintain purity to perform their duties.

The rules that governed these things were complex and nuanced. (See Introduction to the Jewish Rules of Purity and Impurity) Becoming impure meant that a priest could not attend to his ritual duties without going through a time of ritual cleansing. The risk that the injured man might be dead was no small consideration to them.

Perhaps, this seems like being generous to them, but their lives revolved around the rituals handed down centuries ago in the Torah. They were sacred, and their identity and their purpose in life revolved around maintaining those rituals, which they had done since the time of Moses, the great, great grandson of Levi.

If we think times and people are different now, they are, but less so than we might be tempted to think. Most modern Americans (even religious ones) do not practice ritual like First Century Jewish leaders did. We are less religiously ritualistic, perhaps, than ever before. Yet, we are no different, really, in our devotion to our own values and doctrines.

Continue reading “Current Lessons in the Parable of the Good Samaritan: Focusing on the Weightier Matters of the Law”

Favoritism in the Bible, The Here & the Hereafter

God’s mercy shows no bounds, and He is equally merciful to all of us.


“Now in those days, when the disciples were growing in number, a complaint arose on the part of the Greek-speaking Jews against the native Hebraic Jews, because their widows were being overlooked in the daily distribution of food.”

Acts 6:1

Even in the early church led by the 12 apostles who lived with Jesus and learned at his feet, the Church was susceptible to favoritism. The early church embraced a radical, communal life in which they pooled their resources, and everyone in need was taken care of. More or less!

The native, Hebrew widows were being taken care of, but the foreign, Greek-speaking widows were being overlooked. Things were not perfect then, and they never are. People are people, and we tend to fall short, even in our best moments.

People naturally tend to look after our own. “Me and mine”, as Pete might have said in the iconic Coen brothers film, O Brother Where Are Thou?

This human characteristic is not all bad. It prompts mothers and fathers to care for and look after their own children. It inspires family members to look after other family members and friends to look after friends.

At the same time, this human characteristic causes us to care more for our own children and families than for others and to care more for our friends than for our neighbors. It causes us to “take care of our own” to the exclusion of “others”, and that can lead to things like racial discrimination, nepotism, and a failure to have empathy for strangers.

James, the half-brother of Jesus, also deals with favoritism in his letter to the early Church. (James 2:1-13) He called the Church to account for showing “special attention” to men “wearing fine clothes” by giving them the best seats while making the poor churchgoers stand or sit on the floor. (James 2:1-4)

James called favoring the wealthy over the poor sin in no uncertain terms! (James 2:9) He described it as breaking the law of God – the law of loving your neighbor as yourself. (James 2:1-2)

James was clear that this kind of favoritism has no place in the family of God. If any favoritism is sanctioned by God, it is the kind of favoritism that focuses on the poor, the less fortunate, and the people that are marginalized by our human tendencies to show favoritism for our own, personal benefit.

When our favoritism is motivated by selfishness, it is sin. James was particularly strong in his condemnation of favoritism motivated by selfish desires. If we “favor” the marginalized, the vulnerable, and the ones who have less influence in this world, we do it without expectation of personal benefit, and we follow in the example of Jesus.

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The Surprising Value of the Concept of Sin

The idea of sin makes people feel uncomfortable, and people blame sin for making them feel bad about themselves.


Many people bristle at the Christian idea of sin, and many people fault Christianity for its emphasis on sin. Richard Dawkins criticized Christianity in his book, The God Delusion, that it’s all about sin, sin, sin. His sentiment seems to be a popular one.

As a long-time Christian, I have a “robust” view of sin not just because I have robust respect for the Bible. I see sin in myself, and I see it in mankind, generally. I see it as a fact, like gravity, that makes sense of the foibles, failures, and futility of people and human systems I see in the world.

Not that people are incapable of doing good. Even who do not believe in God can do good. Even in doing good, though, I believe most of us do it good “selfishly” – because it makes us feel good; because of peer pressure; because we want people to honor us; because we want other people to be nice to us; or simply because of the utilitarian ideal that it makes the world a better place for me and my tribe to live in.

Most people, I assume, would be uncomfortable with my assessment. Maybe what I see in myself shouldn’t be “projected” onto other people. Maybe I am right, though. I wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t think it is a fair assessment.

I think one issue people have with the idea of sin is that they don’t know what to do with it. It doesn’t fit into an evolutionary paradigm that celebrates the progress of humanity from primordial ooze to ape to rational being.

Absent a cosmic redeemer, people have no “solution” for sin. Reject the One, and the other makes no sense. Many people don’t want a cosmic redeemer interfering with their self-determination (even people, ironically, who believe we have no self-determination, because we merely dance to our DNA).

People don’t see any “value” in sin. The idea of sin makes people feel uncomfortable. They blame the concept of sin for making them feel bad about themselves. When people measure their goodness against others, they either feel shame or self-righteousness, because they see themselves as better or worse than others.

People blame judgmental attitudes, intolerance, lack of empathy for others, and a host of other evils on the Judeo-Christian concept of sin.

On the other hand, do people who have rejected the Christian concept of sin stop feeling bad about themselves or stop being self-righteous? In my experience, no, they don’t.

Abandoning the idea of sin doesn’t seem to help people not feel bad about themselves, and it doesn’t stop people from being self-righteous. People still compare themselves to others. People still struggle with self-image, and some people still seem to think themselves morally superior to others even after rejecting the concept of sin.

The Christian vocabulary that includes sin has no place in alternative cultural constructs, like cultural Marxism, and the host of critical theories that flow from it. Judgment of others, however, is baked into those constructs, and virtue is signaled for group approval in ways that seem, to me, just as inimical as any bad church environment.

People are shamed and labor under judgmental attitudes perfectly well without the help of Christianity. In fact, I believe the shame and self-righteousness is even worse because other cultural constructs lack the Christian concepts of redemption, grace, and forgiveness.

But, I believe in sin simply because it makes sense of all my experiences and everything that I see in people and the world that is run by people. I have never thought of sin as a value proposition, other than to think that sinfulness is generally bad. I have certainly never thought of the idea of sin as good!

Until now.

Continue reading “The Surprising Value of the Concept of Sin”

You Might Be A Pharisee If ….

Just when we become proud of our own spiritual advancement we are most in danger of spiritual catastrophe!


[29] “Woe to you, experts in the law and you Pharisees, hypocrites! You build tombs for the prophets and decorate the graves of the righteous. [30] And you say, ‘If we had lived in the days of our ancestors, we would not have participated with them in shedding the blood of the prophets.’

Matthew 23:29-30

Reading this passage in Matthew today reminded of the old bit by the comic, Jeff Foxworthy. If Jeff Foxworthy was a comic in 1st Century Judea, he might have said, “You might be a Pharisee if ____________________ (fill in the blank).”

In a similar vein, we could say, “You might be a Pharisee if you think you would not have opposed Jesus if you lived in Judea in the 1st Century.”

Of course, Jesus wasn’t being funny when he confronted the Pharisees, and this wouldn’t be a comedic schtick.

I don’t think Jesus was saying it was wrong for people to build tombs to the prophets or decorate them with flowers. Jesus was saying it was wrong to say (and think) they would have treated the prophets any differently.

The Pharisees are to us what the prophets were to the Pharisees. We may be tempted to think that we would embraced Jesus if we lived in 1st Century Judea, and would not have opposed him or called for his crucifixion if we we were in the crowd that shouted, “Crucify him!”.

But, that is no different than how the Pharisees thought and what the Pharisees claimed about the prophets that were resisted, derided, and sometimes killed by the “religious” people of their day. Jesus was clearly implying that the religious people of his day (the Pharisees), were no different than the religious people in the days of the prophets.

Can we say, then, that we are different than they?

Only if we adopt the same thinking as the Pharisees! (If I am understanding Jesus accurately.)

The Pharisees thought of themselves more highly than they should have. John came preaching repentance, for the Kingdom of God is near! But, the Pharisees didn’t repent. They didn’t think they needed to repent.

When Jesus – who was God in the flesh – came into the world, the Pharisees didn’t recognize Him or receive Him. (John 1:9-11) They did not prepare themselves for his coming by repenting, as John the Baptist exhorted. They adopted the wrong attitude about what God was doing in their time, and they didn’t hear and respond to what God God’s messenger was saying.

Pharisees say the right things, and they do the right things, but they fool themselves. What the Pharisees said and did was a façade. Their hearts were not aligned with their actions. They claimed to be experts in the Law, but Jesus called them blind guides leading blind followers. (Matt. 15:14)

Pharisees were concerned with appearances and the way people saw them. Pharisees were not as concerned with their heart attitudes. Jesus called them “white-washed tombs” that were empty inside (full of dead people’s bones and uncleanness). (Matt. 23:27-28) We need to be careful that we do become like the Pharisees.

Continue reading “You Might Be A Pharisee If ….”

The Wrath of God: Between a Rock and a Hard Place

My musing today is inspired by Bethel McGrew’s thoughts on Jordan Peterson, Sam Harris and CS Lewis.


Esther O’Reilly…. I mean Bethel McGrew, as she is wont to be known now, writes in her Essay Preview: Missing God of Jordan Peterson’s interview with Sam Harris in which Harris prodded Peterson to commit to conclusions on his flirtation with God. Harris teased Peterson into grappling with the idea of a personal God, but Peterson characteristically sidestepped the invitation.

Jordan Peterson is far more popular, or notorious, a subject than my extraneous musings, but Peterson isn’t the focus of my thoughts today. It isn’t Sam Harris either, though I have written about him before. Rather, the trajectory of my own past flirtations with the idea of a less personal God now prods me forward.

McGrew observes in Harris’s questions that he unwittingly, if not then crassly, “makes the same point C. S. Lewis makes in his fictional Letters to Malcolm, writing on the problem with trying to depersonalize God’s anger. Lewis’s hypothetical young correspondent suggests that we might reframe our experience of this anger as ‘what inevitably happens to us if we behave inappropriately towards a reality of immense power.’ A live wire doesn’t feel angry when it shocks us, but we know we will be shocked if we brush up against it.”

Before getting to the point, I must confess that I have played with a similar analogy out of a similar desire, I suspect, to make God seem less unpopularly angry. A God who is not wont to anger (or wrath as the Bible unabashedly puts it) seems more palatable to the modern mind, and, perhaps, safer,

Only my analogy, which I have thought to be rather clever, is of two magnets. The magnet signifying God is of immense proportion, of course, compared to the little magnet the size of humans. It doesn’t matter the size of the magnets, though; if we are orientated opposite to God, we are repelled by God.

It’s science. Like the laws of nature. It has nothing to do with God being angry.

I have toyed with the same human affinity to depersonalize an angry God. I admit the temptation to subscribe to the idea that primitive, Bronze Age people are less sophisticated than us and got it wrong to think that a loving God might get angry.   

I rather like my analogy, honestly. It neatly dodges the discomfort of “the God of the Old Testament” in our collective faces. Discounting God’s wrath as primitive imagery is, perhaps, convenient, if not a dead end as I now consider.

The temptation to gloss over biblical truths is no less compelling in our time than in Lewis’s time, and, perhaps, with the same unwitting results:


“But ‘My dear Malcolm,’ Lewis writes, ‘what do you suppose you have gained by substituting the image of a live wire for that of angered majesty? You have shut us all up in despair; for the angry can forgive, and electricity can’t.’”


Brilliant!

On my analogy, a magnet cannot do other than to repel a magnet orientated with its same pole forward. Of course, a tiny magnet opposing a larger magnet can always reorient itself! Right?

Of course, analogies always break done at some point. Have you ever tried holding two magnets with their north poles facing each other? The lesser magnet tends to want to flip and go the other direction. If the magnet were a person, the “attraction” might be described as unstoppable.

But that doesn’t seem to be the way we operate in our orientation to God. We seem to have this sticky business of free will milling about within us, and a real tendency toward sin that requires us to choose God’s way over our ways (if we want to be orientated in God’s direction). We don’t naturally align with God.

It isn’t quite like science. It’s messier than we like to think of science (not that science doesn’t have its own messiness with sticky things like quantum entanglement and such). We can no more remove God’s personhood than our own from the “equation”.

I am a bit embarrassed that I have fixated on this tangent to McGrew’s point in writing about Jordan Peterson, but it’s what caught my attention and held it. It gave my a springboard for my own thoughts. I have taken her work afield, but it’s the path I am on, so I will continue.

Continue reading “The Wrath of God: Between a Rock and a Hard Place”