15th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Year C
Luke 10: 25-37
First Reading
Deuteronomy 30:10-14
Moses reminds the people that God’s commandments are not remote but are already in their hearts.
Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 69:14,17,30-31,36-37
Turn to the Lord in your need, and you will live.
Second Reading
Colossians 1:15-20
Jesus is the head of the body, the Church.
Gospel Reading
Luke 10:25-37
The parable of the Good Samaritan
25 An expert in the Law of Moses stood up and asked Jesus a question to see what he would say. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to have eternal life?”
26 Jesus answered, “What is written in the Scriptures? How do you understand them?”
27 The man replied, “The Scriptures say, ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, strength, and mind.’ They also say, ‘Love your neighbors as much as you love yourself.'”
28 Jesus said, “You have given the right answer. If you do this, you will have eternal life.”
29 But the man wanted to show that he knew what he was talking about. So he asked Jesus, “Who are my neighbors?”
30 Jesus replied:
As a man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, robbers attacked him and grabbed everything he had. They beat him up and ran off, leaving him half dead.
31 A priest happened to be going down the same road. But when he saw the man, he walked by on the other side. 32 Later a temple helper[i] came to the same place. But when he saw the man who had been beaten up, he also went by on the other side.
33 A man from Samaria then came traveling along that road. When he saw the man, he felt sorry for him 34 and went over to him. He treated his wounds with olive oil and wine and bandaged them. Then he put him on his own donkey and took him to an inn, where he took care of him.35 The next morning he gave the innkeeper two silver coins and said, “Please take care of the man. If you spend more than this on him, I will pay you when I return.”
36 Then Jesus asked, “Which one of these three people was a real neighbor to the man who was beaten up by robbers?”
37 The teacher answered, “The one who showed pity.”
Jesus said, “Go and do the same!”
Background on the Gospel Reading
As Jesus continues his journey to Jerusalem, he is confronted by a scholar of the law who wants to test him. In the Gospels of Mark and Matthew, Jesus is asked about the greatest commandment. Here, in Luke’s Gospel, the lawyer asks what we must do to inherit eternal life. In the other two Gospels, Jesus answers the question by quoting Deuteronomy 6:5, on loving God with all your heart, and Leviticus 19:18, on loving your neighbor. Here Jesus asks the expert to answer this question, “What is written in the law?” The man is caught and responds with Deuteronomy 6:5. This verse is one of the most important prayers in Judaism, and it was said twice a day in Jesus’ time. Love of God and love of neighbor are what is required for eternal life. Jesus’ response is simple, “Do this and you will live.”
Having been shown up by Jesus, the lawyer tries another question: Who is my neighbor whom I must love like myself? In the society of Jesus’ time, with its distinctions between Jews and Gentiles, men and women, clean and unclean, this was a trick question. Jesus responds with one of the most beautiful of all the parables, the Good Samaritan. It is found only in Luke’s Gospel.
The road from Jerusalem to Jericho descends 3,300 feet in just 17 miles. Its narrow passes and rocky terrain made it an easy place for bandits to wait for travelers. The traveler in this parable is identified only as “a certain man.” Luke uses this phrase in many of his parables so that the audience, Jew or Gentile, could identify with the man. After the attack, the man is left for dead, naked and bleeding on the side of the road. A priest comes along, but rather than helping, as one might expect, he moves to the other side of the road. Another religious person comes along, a Levite who assists in the Temple. His reaction is the same as the priest’s. Both of them choose to not even find out if the man is alive. A third person comes along. The listeners would probably expect him to be an Israelite. This would make the parable a criticism of the religious leadership. Instead he is a Samaritan, an Israelite’s most hated neighbor. Samaritans were descendents of Jews from the northern part of the country, who had intermarried with Gentiles and did not worship in Jerusalem. The Samaritan not only goes over to the injured man but cleans his wounds, puts him on his own animal, takes him to an inn to recover, and promises to pay all his expenses. The hated enemy is the compassionate neighbor in this parable.
Jesus has demolished all boundary expectations. It is not social definitions such as class, religion, gender, or ethnicity that determines who is our neighbor. A neighbor is a person who acts with compassion toward another. The point becomes not who deserves to be loved as I love myself, but that I become a person who treats everyone with compassion.
When Jesus asks the lawyer who was the neighbor in the story, the lawyer can’t bring himself to say it was the Samaritan. All he says is that it was “the one who treated him with mercy.” Jesus’ response was similar to that of the first discussion: “Go and do likewise.” The lawyer, and we, know what is right. The key is to do it.
THE WOUNDED ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD
by José Antonio Pagola
The parable of the «Good Samaritan» came from Jesus’ heart, since he was walking through Galilee very attentive to the beggars and sick that he saw along the side of the road. He wanted to teach everyone to walk through life with «compassion», but he thought above all about the religious leaders.
Along the side of a dangerous road a victim of assault and robbery has been left «half dead». Fortunately along the road comes a priest and later a Levite. Both belong to the official world of the Temple. They are religious people. Without doubt they will take pity on him.
Not so. When they see the wounded man, they close both their eyes and their heart. For them it’s as if that man doesn’t exist: «They passed by on the other side», without stopping. Busy in their piety and rituals for God, they keep to their path. Their concern isn’t for those who suffer.
On the horizon appears a third traveler. He’s not a priest or Levite. He doesn’t come from the Temple and doesn’t belong to any kind of public position. He’s a despicable «Samaritan». You can count on him for the worst.
However, when he sees the wounded man «he’s moved with compassion». He doesn’t pass by on the other side. He draws close to him and does everything he can: disinfects his wounds, heals him, binds his wounds. Then he takes him on his own beast of burden to an inn. There he personally takes care of him and ensures that they’ll continue taking care of him.
It’s difficult to imagine a more provocative call that Jesus makes to his disciples, and directly to the religious leaders. It’s not enough that there are institutions, organisms and people in the Church who are next to those who suffer. It’s the whole Church that should publicly appear as the institution most sensitive and committed to those who suffer physically and morally.
If the Church doesn’t get moved with compassion in the face of the wounded along the side of the road, whatever she does or says will end up mostly irrelevant. Only compassion can make the Church of Jesus more human and credible today.
Translator: Fr. Jay VonHandorf
http://www.gruposdejesus.com
Reconnecting with Our Neighbour
Kathleen Rushton
In Luke 9:51 Jesus “turned his face to journey (poreuesthai) to Jerusalem” (Lk 9:51) and for the next 10 chapters we read about Jesus journeying with his disciples (9:51‒19:27). The verb “to journey” is used frequently (Lk 9:53, 56-57, 10:38, 13:31, 33; 17:11; 19:28) and there are many references to being on the move.
Journey — A Way of Living
Jesus is teaching and instructing his disciples on a journey as they walk in Earth. Journeying becomes a metaphor for a way of living that shapes the meaning of discipleship in Luke’s community. The Lucan community lived probably around 60-85 CE in a Greek-speaking area of the Roman occupied world — we don’t know the exact location.
Jesus presents ways or paths that lead to authentic discipleship as he moves from place to place with the disciples. He critiques aspects of social and cultural behaviours which are contrary to the way of God. As Australian biblical interpreter Michael Trainer writes, Jesus critiques behaviours that keep people “oppressed, divided and out of harmony with themselves and the natural world in which they live.”
“And Who Is My Neighbour?”
Although Jesus addresses three groups on the way — his disciples, the crowds and his adversaries — he is also addressing Luke’s community and all the generations since, including ours today.
Jesus tells parables among which is the Parable of the Wounded One (Lk 10:30-37). This parable illustrates the great commandment of the Torah concerned with loving God “with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind and your neighbour as yourself” (Lk 10:27).
Shift of Focus on Characters
Until the 19th century the parable was known as the “Parable of the Man Who Fell among Bandits”, where the emphasis was on the wounded person — as it is in the structure of the parable. In the early Church, interpreters identified the Samaritan as Jesus. Today we know the story as the Parable of the Good Samaritan, even though Luke does not use the adjective “good”. The name change to “Good Samaritan” emerged in the 19th century when European society and the Church had increased in wealth and affluent people dispensed “charity” to the poor and needy. They thought of themselves as “good” people and identified with the “good” Samaritan.
Humanity
The parable begins and ends by focusing on a person (anthrōpos) — the Greek word is a generic term for the humanity of a person, not a “male” or “man”. The use of anthrōpos encourages us to see the Wounded One not as an individual but as representing humanity and the human condition. The word has already been used in Luke’s healing stories and will reoccur (Lk 12:16; 14:2, 16; 15:11; 16:1, 19; 19:12; 20:9).
Journeying from Jericho to Jerusalem
The parable says the “person (anthrōpos) was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho” (Lk 10:30), a 30 km descent from around 750 metres to 250 metres, on a road well known for brigands. The wounded one is described as having been beaten, stripped naked and left half-dead.
Three people come along the road and see the beaten one. Jesus’s listeners would recognise and expect the three to represent the three classes of people who served in the Temple: priests, Levites and laypeople. They heard that a priest and then a Levite passed by without stopping, so they would have expected that the third person, a layperson, would be the one to act. But no! The hero is not a Jewish layperson but a Samaritan, a person from a group they despised.
A Samaritan
A Samaritan journeying on the way “came near him … saw him … was moved with compassion (splagnizomai) … went to him (Lk 10:33-34). The verb splagnizomai meaning “having a heart moved with compassion” comes from the Hebrew word for womb.
Here, and as elsewhere in Luke and Matthew, the Samaritan engages in a threefold pattern: (1) a description of need, (2) a person is described as “having a heart moved with compassion”, and (3) something must be done to address the need the heart has felt. In this threefold pattern is found qualities of discipleship: to see, judge and act. The parable, as Michael Trainer emphasises, highlights the interconnection of all creation —vegetable, animal and human.
Harmony of Creation
As we reflect on this parable, we can become aware that the Samaritan becomes neighbour to the wounded one by bringing together God’s intended harmony and interconnection of all aspects of creation in a compassionate and holistic way. In bandaging the wounded person’s wounds, the Samaritan uses Earth’s gifts of wine and oil in the healing process. The bandages would have been made from cotton.
The animal world is involved in the healing process — the Samaritan put the person on “his own beast (ktēnos)”. Here Luke uses a word that his Greek speakers would recognise as derived from a cluster of words such as creator, creature and creation which come from the verb, to create (ktizō). The Samaritan brings the wounded person to an inn. The innkeeper continues human care with the material support that the Samaritan provides. In doing so, the Samaritan risks his own life by taking the wounded person to an inn in a Jewish area.
The cost and risks taken by the Samaritan point to Jesus. Asking the question: “To whom must I become a neighbour?” will cost disciples. We can choose to pass by or we can cross to the other side — each person in their woundedness is neighbour to another wounded person and wounded Earth.
The parable asks more from us than being “good” and “charitable” like our 19th-century forebears. It demands that we expand our sphere of vision from the individual to the community: a journey of awareness away from “man” and towards anthrōpos; from wounded one to wounded world. Pope Francis reminds us in Laudato Si’ that “these ancient stories, full of symbolism, bear witness to a conviction which we today share, that everything is interconnected” (LS par 70).
“Everything is related, and we human beings are united as brothers and sisters on a wonderful pilgrimage, woven together by the love God has for each of [God’s] creatures and which also unites us in fond affection with brother sun, sister moon, brother river and mother earth” (LS par 92).
Tui Motu Magazine. Issue 305 July 2025: 24-25
https://hail.to
To inherit Life
Gospel reflection – Luke 10: 25-37
Fernando Armellini
Introduction
To love God would not make sense for the ancient Greeks. The gods could love people: they show their preference by giving special gifts and favors. As a sign of gratitude, they expected sacrifices and burnt offerings from the person they have shown favor. A reflection of this mentality is also present in some texts of the Old Testament. Through the mouth of prophet Malachi, the Lord complains of the despicable holocausts that priests offer him: “The servant respects his master … Where is the honor due to me?” (Mal 1:6). Unlike the pagan peoples, Israel loves her God. Here’s what Moses recommends to the people: “What is it that the Lord asks of you if not to love him and serve him with all your heart and with all your soul?” (Dt 10:12). “Love consists in keeping the commandments” (Ex 20:6) and “to follow his ways” (Dt 19:9).
Love of neighbor, above all the poor, orphan, widow, and stranger, is viewed in this frame: This is practiced because it is a work pleasing to God.
The New Testament gives us the full light, one that allows us to understand what it really means to love God. The first letter of John is very explicit: “This is love: not that we loved God but that he first loved us … . Dear friends, if such has been the love of God, we, too, must love one another” (1 Jn 4:10-11).
The logical leap is immediately obvious. We would expect, if God so loved us, we also ought to love him. But God does not ask anything for himself. There is only one way to respond to his love: love your brethren and not “only with words and with our lips, but in truth and in deed” (1 Jn 3:18).
Gospel: Luke 10:25-37
The worst insult that one could direct to a Jew was “dog” or “pagan”; the second was “samaritan,” that amounted to “bastard, renegade, heretic!” (Jn 8:48). At the end of his book, Ben Sira reports an almost sarcastic saying which shows the contempt of the Jews against the Samaritans. He calls them: “the foolish people who live in Shechem” and that does not even deserve to be considered a people (Sir 50:25-26).
Actually, the Jews had their own good reasons for believing that the Samaritans were of the “excommunicated.” For many centuries they were so mixed up with other people that they cannot now be considered descendants of Abraham. They were contaminated with pagan cults, had forgotten the traditions of their fathers and lived impurely (2 K 17). They did not accept the books of the prophets, nor those of wisdom nor the Psalms as sacred. Even Jesus, responding to the Samaritan woman, does not hesitate to tell her: you do not even know which god you worship, for salvation comes from the Jews (Jn 4:22). Two Sundays ago, the Gospel recalled the snub made to the Master and the apostles by the Samaritans (Lk 9:53).
Today’s Gospel begins (vv. 25-29) presenting to us not a Samaritan, but a Jew, not a sinner, but a righteous man, a teacher of the law who asks Jesus: “What shall I do to inherit eternal life?” Note the fine theology: he does not speak of “merit,” but to inherit eternal life. The inheritance—we know it—is not earned; one receives it completely free of charge.
Adapting himself to the practice of rabbinic disputes, Jesus does not give an immediate answer, but addresses him a counter-question: “What is written in the law?”
The rabbi promptly appeals to two biblical texts. The first is well known because every pious Israelite recites it in the morning and evening prayers: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength” (Dt 6:5); the second, on which he insisted a little less, is taken from the book of Leviticus: “and your neighbor as yourself” (Lev 19:18). Perfect answer!
Is that all then? If God’s judgment is about the knowledge of a doctrine, the lawyer should be given full marks. But Jesus, after the praise—“What a good answer!”—adds, “Do this and you shall live” (v. 28). “Do!” It’s not enough to “know.” It is life that proves if we have assimilated or not the Word of the Lord.
The rabbi—who failed to embarrass Jesus—insists: “And who is my neighbor?” He is also willing to do, but without overdoing it. He wants to establish well the boundaries of love. There was a discussion among the rabbis about who should be considered neighbor. Some—referring to the aforementioned text of Leviticus that parallels the term neighbor with sons of your people—said they had to love only the children of Abraham. Others extended this love also to foreigners who lived long in the land of Israel. But all agreed in saying that the distant peoples and, above all, the enemies were not neighbors. The monks of Qumran adhered to this principle: “love the children of the light and hate the children of darkness” and for the “children of light” they meant the members of their community.
Jesus does not answer the question of the doctor of the law, because he considers it outdated. For him there is no barrier between peoples and the problem is not knowing how far love should reach, but how to demonstrate it by loving God and the brothers and sisters.
It is on this point—the most important, indeed, the only one that matters—that the Jew and the Samaritan are compared. The assessment is not given on the basis of what one knows, says, the faith one professes by mouth, but in what one does.
“There was a man going down from Jerusalem to Jericho” … (v. 30).
These two towns are located 27 km from each other. The road is a sharp descent (a drop of 1000 meters), through the Judean desert along the wadi Quelt. It continues among cliffs, caves, and precipices to the plains of Jericho, the beautiful “City of Palms.” There Herod, the wealthy families of the capital, and many priests of the temple had their villas and winter residences. This road was always traveled in a convoy to avoid being attacked by robbers and bandits.
A man—Jesus says—who knows well the danger of the place—was attacked by robbers who beat him, robbed him and left him half dead along the way.
Who was he? We do not know anything about him: neither age nor profession, nor the tribe to which he belonged, nor the religion he professed. We do not know if he was white or black, good or bad, friend or foe. What did he do in Jerusalem: to pray or to revel? To offer sacrifices in the temple or to steal? He was qualified in the most generic way: he was a man! And this is enough. Even if he were a wicked person, he would not lose his dignity as a man in need of help.
By chance, a priest and a Levite descended on the same route (vv. 31-32).
That ‘by chance’ is nice! We need not go to look for the needy brother. The circumstances and coincidences make us encounter him. How do churchmen behave?
The Levites were the sexton, the temple guards. We are faced with two Jews, respectable people, people who prayed and had clear ideas about God and religion. Why does Jesus introduce these two “men of the church” in his story? He could have avoided the controversy and shown immediately a positive example. Why provoke the “notables,” the “members of the hierarchy?”
The Master had a little “bad habit” of blaming “religious” persons (cf. Lk 7:44 -47, 11:37-53; 17:18; 18:9-14; etc.). The reason is the same for which, before him, the prophets had strongly attacked the worship, rituals, and the solemn ceremonies of the temple: God does not tolerate exterior formalism used as a convenient loophole to avoid being caught up in the problems of people.
Incense, chants, endless prayers with which one tries to replace the concrete commitment in favor of the orphan, the widow, the oppressed are repugnant to God (Is 1:11-17). Jesus mentions several times the phrase of the prophet Hosea: “What I want is mercy, not sacrifice” (Mt 9:13; 12:7).
What are the priest and the Levite doing? They arrive on the site, they see … but they pass on by the other side. Perhaps they themselves are afraid of being attacked, perhaps they are worried of ritual purity (he could be dead and a dead body prevents one to officiate in the temple), perhaps they do not want to get into trouble or get headaches, perhaps they have no time to lose.
They come from Jerusalem where they have some part in the solemn liturgies. They spent a week—this was the duration of their service—with the Lord and from one who unites oneself to God we would expect love and care for the needy. The two “church people” come from the temple, yet they are insensitive, do not feel compassion—the first of God’s feelings (Ex 34:6). This means that the religion they practice is hypocritical and hardened their heart rather than soften it. What will God do with this religion that provides an alibi to escape the problems of people, which helps to avoid problems by passing “across the street?” The man attacked by bandits is for Jesus the symbol of all the victims of physical and psychological violence.
At this point, the listeners expect that after the two “churchmen” the helper will enter the scene. They are certain that he would be a secular Jew. Had Jesus carried on the parable in this way, the people—who even then showed that benevolent anti-clericalism which also animates today’s Christians—would have recognized and applauded. Instead here’s the surprise. The provocation appears to be one of those that says “the candles’ smoke bothers him”—a Samaritan. Mind you: he is not a “good Samaritan”—as many Bibles say—but just a Samaritan. He was traveling and he had his plans.
The description of what he does at the sight of the wounded man is accurate.
Jesus does not neglect any detail because he wants to contrast his conduct to that of the priest and the Levite. “He came upon the man, he was moved with compassion. He went over to him, and cleaned his wounds with oil and wine, and wrapped them in bandages. Then he put him on his own mount and brought him to an inn, where he took care of him” (vv. 33-34).
In the face of a person who is in need, he no longer follows the head, but the heart. He forgets his business commitments, religious norms, fatigue, hunger, and fear. He immediately acts, committing himself to the complete solution of the case. He is not pushed to act by religious reasons, by the desire to please God, by the calculation of merits to gain heaven by helping the poor, but only by compassion, the fact that he feels pity squeezing his heart. He is moved by the feeling that—while not being aware—it is the projection of what God feels.
Like what Nathan did when he told David the parable of the sheep, Jesus does not give his judgment on the incident. He wants the lawyer to be the one to do so. For this, he poses a question that reverses the one that has been given at the beginning. “Who is my neighbor?”—he was asked. Now he asks: “Which of these three, do you think made himself neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” (v. 36). The problem—as we have already mentioned above—is not to determine how far one stretches the boundaries of the term “neighbor,” but: who becomes neighbor, who draws near, who is capable of loving, who shows to have assimilated the merciful conduct of God.
The doctor of the law responds: “The one who had mercy on him” (v. 37). He avoids—for obvious reasons—to say the name “Samaritan,” but is forced to admit that he is the model of one who knows how to make oneself neighbor.
The last words of Jesus to the lawyer summarize the message of the whole parable: “Then go and do the same!” (v. 37). Make yourself a neighbor to the one in need and inherit life.
The parable has an explosive message: who loves his neighbor certainly also loves God (cf. 1 Jn 4:7). He may turn him down in words but in reality, he is not rejecting God; perhaps he only rejects his false image. The “Samaritans” who love the brother and sister in need, perhaps without knowing it, are worshiping the true God.
Fernando Armellini
Italian missionary and biblical scholar
https://sundaycommentaries.wordpress.com
