I have been told a really great teacher can remember what it’s like not to know. Whether or not I qualify for such honor is subject to debate, but I do recall the time in my life when I did not know the basic outline of Bible history, especially the Old Testament.
How many Christians can tell you David was not the first King of Israel? Saul was. Or how many know David did not rule Israel at it’s greatest? His son Solomon expanded the kingdom considerably. Solomon was wiser, by far, but failed to apply wisdom to all his actions. A rather foolish thing he did was tax his people one-quarter of their yearly income. For most Israelites, that meant laboring directly on royal projects 3 months of the year, because they seldom had cash to pay for taxes.
When Solomon died, his son, Rehoboam, was advised to lighten up; all the more so since there was someone with the political clout to lead a revolt. But the young man possessed none of his father’s legendary wisdom, and promised to be even worse as a taskmaster. His political opponent — Jeroboam — managed to pull away 10 of the twelve tribes of Israel, leaving the heir something less than half of the original territory: the lands given to Judah and Simeon. The northern kingdom retained the name of Israel, and the southern was called Judah.
The two kingdoms swung back and forth between peace and war with each other for a couple hundred years. Then Israel was conquered by the Assyrian Empire (based in the north end of the Tigris-Euphrates River Valley), and all the folks who amounted to anything were exiled, scattered all around the great empire. Assyrians figured if one was pulled away from their homeland, they’d lose somewhat their national identity, because they had to leave their local gods behind. Since northern Israel had fallen far away from their Jewish faith, replacing Jehovah with a handful of pagan deities, the Assyrian ploy worked pretty well. The northern tribes of Israel were never heard from again.
About five percent of the original population was left behind, the poorest, to keep a few cities occupied and some of the farming land clear. Then Assyria brought in a load of exiles from some other places they conquered. By the time these arrived, much of the land had gone wild, and dangerous carnivores roamed freely. They appealed to the emperor to send back a few priests of the local gods so they could appease their anger and get things under control. They got some of those apostate priests who had helped Israel fall far enough to incur God’s wrath in the first place. These priests produced a very highly edited version of the books of Moses, and the resulting religion bore some vague resemblance to Judaism.
In the meantime, Judah had finally angered God to the point where He raised up a new empire, first to conquer the Assyrians, and then to come on over and conquer Judah. The new kingdom in the northern half of Canaan, still developing, was called Samaria, after their capital city (they tried to rebuild what had been the old capital of Israel). The Samaritans didn’t resist the new conquerors, Babylon, but Judah did. So Jerusalem was destroyed and the Kingdom of Judah had a turn at exile. But while they were gone, they tried to maintain their identity as Jews, and made some attempt to call on God.
Eventually, they were heard, and a new empire arose to take out Babylon. This new empire, Medo-Persia (Medes and Persians), let the Jews go back home if they wanted. A few did. They managed to fight off some political intrigues from some old enemies to the south (Edom mostly) and rebuilt somewhat the old Jerusalem. When they finally were ready to dedicate their new temple building, a group of Samaritan representatives showed up to join the party. They said something like, “Welcome back, fellow worshipers of Jehovah.” Of course, the Jews were not fooled by this, and knew the Samaritan religion had only a smattering of truth. They told the Samaritans to get lost.
This was no small insult to the Samaritans, who were somewhat more powerful, but not willing to get in trouble with the imperial government by starting a war. Instead, they did everything short of war. For example, the Jews would post sentries on high hilltops to watch for approaching armies, a system everybody used in those days. If there was reason to raise an alarm, they would light a bonfire. In daylight, they’d make it smoke heavily. This was a pretty good alarm system for those days. The Samaritans would then choose a hill on the same line-of-sight from Jerusalem, and wait until dark and light a bonfire. The alarm would go up, the city would go through the drills, and all other activity would stop for a day or so. When they finally got word it was a false alarm, you can imagine their anger and frustration.
Two more empires washed over them both — Greece and then Rome — before Jesus was born. All this time, the petty bickering and angry insults between Samaria and Judah continued. The Jews called the Samaritans pagans, and Samaritans called the Jews all sorts of things, mostly arrogant. So no self-respecting Jew would be caught dead passing through Samaritan territory while traveling between Judah and Galilee (which the Jews had also re-occupied). Since Samaria lay directly between them, Jews would cross the Jordan River to the east side, pass through a couple of little kingdoms, and cross back over when they got far enough north to enter Galilee.
And Jesus said, “A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, who stripped him of his clothing, wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a certain priest came down that road. And when he saw him, he passed on the other side. Likewise a Levite, when he arrived at the place, came and looked and passed by on the other side.” (Luke 10:30-32)
All were traveling down the road, which meant they were all departing Jerusalem, and going to Jericho — a drop in elevation of 1300 feet over just a few miles. It was common for robbers to work that route, which was rough and rocky, with lots of blind turns. Since the priest and Levite were leaving the Temple behind, neither of them could use the excuse of concern for ritual purity for not checking to see if the man was dead. For Jesus to suggest a Samaritan could be more kind and loving in dealing with a half-dead Jew than would be a priest or Levite (the cream of Jewish faith) was not actually hard for the audience to swallow (Luke 10:33-35), as the Temple staff were notoriously elitist.
“So which of these three do you think was neighbor to him who fell among the thieves?” And he said, “He who showed mercy on him.” Then Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.” (vs. 36 & 37)
The man who had asked the impertinent question about was his neighbor (verses 25-29) couldn’t even bring himself to say, “The Samaritan.” He had been trying to justify not being a nice guy. Jewish men living above the lower classes were infamous for being rude and stingy to anyone they weren’t trying to impress. Jesus made it clear anyone who has a need without threatening you is your neighbor, and anyone who acts with godly compassion even more so.
Thus, He clearly demonstrates the Law of Moses was not properly interpreted by the Talmud, which tended to excuse such unkindness. The Samaritans had no Talmud, just a reworked version of the Torah. The Samaritan version did not cut out the commands to be merciful. The scribe had stuck his foot in his mouth by very properly summarizing the whole Old Testament: “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind’, and ‘your neighbor as yourself'” (v. 27).
If this is a proper reading of the Law, then why were scribes and other big shots so self-centered? They viewed it from rationalistic eyes, and three centuries of elitist traditions which essentially negated the higher morals of Mosaic Law. Fulfilling the Law was about loving God, and loving as God loved. That’s the Law of Noah, too. And if you can’t love those whom God created, you can’t claim to love God. You can’t claim to obey Him, and can’t even pretend to know Him. That’s the lesson of the Good Samaritan.
