- Valson Thampu
For years I have been tantalized by the ‘expert in Jewish law’ who tried to discompose Jesus in public. Even more, by the way Jesus ministered to him. The incident is recorded in St. Luke 10: 25-37. Two questions arise here. Why did he want to humiliate Jesus in public? Secondly, why did Jesus respond to him through a parable: the parable of the Good Samaritan?
The first thing to note here is that the ‘expert in law’ has no name. He is de-individualized. In other words, he is functioning entirely in the role of a zealous religious functionary. In existential philosophy this is termed ‘role-playing’, which characterizes ‘inauthentic existence’. In his effort to be true to his role, he fails to be true to himself. The person and the role pull apart.
Secondly, Jesus understands our ‘expert’ a lot better than he does himself. Jesus saw people as they were, not by what they appeared to be. The expert in Jewish religious law, in contrast, saw himself, and all else, through the colored glass of negative religious vigilance. ‘Vigilance’ in such a context is negative in scope: it is vigilance against ‘enemies’. In such a state, he is not free to respond to anyone or anything as a free human being, expressive of his humanity; or, in the metaphor of Jesus, the ‘light within’ (Mtt.5: 14-16). It is precisely this that Jesus senses and addresses through the parable.
The truth, Jesus said, will set you free. Freedom in its enlarged spiritual connotation also includes ‘wholeness,’ which is more than the absence of illness. For example, how can a man who is paralyzed, like the one we meet in the 2nd chapter of St Mark, be ‘free’, except as one healed into the capacity to be? From the psychoanalytic perspective, this religious zealot is neurotic. He is not the role he plays. Jesus senses a redemptive scope in this neurotic ill-adaptation between the two. Hence, the parable. What about the parable, then?
Let’s begin with the structure of the parabolic situation. There is a wounded man at its centre. He is flanked by two contrasting models: the priest and Levite on the one hand, and the Samaritan, on the other. Of the two, who represents the expert? The Priest-Levite combine? Or, the Samaritan? The point is that he is both; and his problem is precisely that he does not know this. This is what he needs to know, if he is to be rekindled in his true humanity, which is the purpose of the parable.
Jesus casts this parable in the mode of a dream. It is hard to miss the dream-like nature of the parable. ‘A man’ -he has no name- is going from Jerusalem to Jericho. He is attacked, wounded, and left for dead. Then a pageant begins. First, a priest. Then, a Levite. For God’s sake, why can’t they at least cast a glance of compassion on the hapless man? Or, shout a word of hope from a distance and flee for life, if it is fear that drives them away from the bleeding body? The point is that in that case it would not be the sort of dream in consonance with the condition of our expert.
Then comes the Samaritan. What about him? Why does he dismount the donkey, pour out wine and oil, and take care of a stranger? Even more, why assume continuing responsibility for his welfare at such a cost? And, he only a trader, and no priest, or man of piety! Again, the answer is the same: that that’s how it is in dreams.
The priest and the Levite mirror the role-playing expert in law. The Samaritan does what he would have, if he were not to ‘play the expert’. The role paralyses the person. The irony embedded in this parable is that his religious role-playing robs the expert of the freedom to be humane and compassionate. This ‘role-possession’ is spiritually as abnormal as ‘demon-possession,’ though it is considered normal, even noble.
My basis for this inference? Well, it is what Jesus tells the man. “Go, and do likewise”. It is comparable to what Jesus said to the paralytic, ‘Take up your bed, and walk’. Jesus is asking him to dare to be the ‘good Samaritan’ that he potentially is, and not remain paralysed in role-playing. Did this exhortation have a salutary effect on the man? The text is silent on this question. Just as it should be; for it is, after all, a dream-parable.
The parable of the Good Samaritan is universal by virtue of the universality of the human condition it highlights. Life is a stage, said Shakespeare, where everyone has to play a part. Shouldn’t we keep that part as only ‘a part’ of our life; and not equate it with the whole of our being? This sub-human role-playing is the ‘bushel’ under which the light within remains hidden, unfree to give light to those around us. The seriousness of this problem is best understood in light of our calling: you are the light of the world!
