The Mother of All Parables
Deuteronomy 30:10-14 Colossians 1:15-20 Luke 10:25-37
To the church in
the diaspora[1]
& to the
church of the unchurched[2]
Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according
to Luke.
Glory to you, Lord.
There was a scholar of the law who
stood up to test him [Jesus] and said, “Teacher, what must I do to inherit
eternal life?” Jesus said to him, “What is written in the law? How do you read
it?” He said in reply, “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart,
with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your
neighbor as yourself.”
He replied to him, “You have answered
correctly; do this and you will live.” But because he wished to justify
himself, he said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus replied, “A man fell
victim to robbers as he went down from
But a Samaritan traveler who came upon
him was moved with compassion at the sight. He approached the victim, poured
oil and wine over his wounds and bandaged them. Then he lifted him up on his
own animal, took him to an inn, and cared for him. The next day he took out two
silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper with the instruction, ‘Take care of
him. If you spend more than what I have given you, I shall repay you on my way
back.’ Which of these three, in your opinion, was neighbor to the robbers’
victim? ” He answered, “The one who treated him with mercy.” Jesus said to him,
“Go and do likewise” (Luke
The Gospel of
the Lord.
Praise to you,
Lord Jesus Christ.
Introduction
Luke: the evangelist for Cycle C
The
liturgical cycle for 2007 is C, and the evangelist for Cycle C is Luke. In Luke
are found the most cherished of Jesus’ parables, like the Parable of the Rich Fool who planned to build bigger and better
bins in which to store all his wealth, when death suddenly came upon him (Lk
12:13-21). Like the Parable of the Rich
Man Dives who dressed in purple
and ate splendidly everyday, while at his gate lay poor Lazarus crying for
crumbs as the dogs licked his sores (Lk 16: 19-31). Like the Parable of the Prodigal Son who takes
his share of the inheritance and squanders it on loose living in a foreign land and then
falling upon hard times returns repentant to the house of his father who
welcomes him with open arms (Lk 15:11-32). In Luke is found also that mother of
all parables: the Parable of the Good Samaritan (Lk l0: 25-37).
The mother of all parables
By age forty most of us have discarded or at least
toned down our many superlatives. I’ve held on to one superlative right up to
my eighty-second year, and it’s become even more superlative with the years. In
my book, St. Luke is the greatest of the four evangelists, and The Good Samaritan is the greatest of
all Jesus’ parables. It is, I say, the mother of all parables. What Jesus says
about the first and the greatest of all the commandments, I say about this
parable: “Upon it rest the whole Law and
the Prophets” (Mt
The parable is read to the Sunday assembly only in Cycle
C. In other words, it’s read only once
ever three years. The next time it’ll be read at Sunday Mass will be in 2010.
Imagine, this mother of all parables is read to the Sunday assembly only once
every 156 weeks! I manage to fix that! Precisely because of its many facets, I can
let this mother of all parables insert itself into almost every Sunday homily. Like
a diamond a parable has many facets.
Parables: diamonds with many facets
In
one of her letters, a mystic friend alights upon a very curious facet of this
mother of all parables. She writes,
I am just like the Good Samaritan; all I can do is pick up the
wounded and dump them off on someone else.
It's the long haul that counts. It’s the abiding, tender, loving care
that counts. In my book it’s the innkeeper who’s the Good Samaritan!
What an interesting twist! What a shining facet! In her book it’s the innkeeper who’s the Good
Samaritan. In her book Good Samaritans are the care-givers who give themselves
to the long haul. My friend was probably
thinking about her husband who at that time needed abiding, tender and loving
care?
My friend finds yet another fascinating facet
of this diamond upon which to alight. Again she writes,
I know that a man
is lying out there half-dead. I also know that I can’t cope with it. So I don’t go to
That, indeed, is a profound facet which
she finds in this mother of all parables. She goes to Sunday Mass where
bread-breaking takes place symbolically, and that in some way substitutes for
the costly bread-breaking that takes place only out on the road of life which
runs from
The story behind my affection
I have wondered about my inordinate
affection for this parable. I believe I know the story which, partially at
least, lies behind my inordinate affection. It’s a bit personal but I tell it
without blush. I tell it even with the risk of being charged with self-pity. At
age 82 my blushing days are mostly over. Over also, for the most part, is my
indulgence in self-pity. There’s too precious little time left for that.
My story is
this: My parents were Italian immigrants who came to this great land of
opportunity but didn’t fare very well. After my birth, my mother became
incurably ill (incurable for those days). She was taken from us and
institutionalized for twenty years. She finally escaped her incarceration by
dying. Throughout all those tender and important years, my sister and I had no
mother, our dad had no helpmate, and our house had no soul. We lived in the
typical little American town of
My Italian
immigrant father and my sister and I were like that poor man waylaid on the
road from
Only later in
life, when I could sort things out, did I come to see, rightly or wrongly, those neighbors were not much nicer than
that Jewish priest and Levite who walked right by. Only later on in
life did I come to see that those neighbors weren’t really neighbors at all. The
parable was in answer to the question, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus’ answer
was your neighbor is anyone who is waylaid and is in need.
That, I
believe, is the story which lies, partially at least, behind my inordinate
affection for this mother of all parables. It is also partial explanation of my
frequent criticism of religion, whether Jewish, Christian or Islamic. More
positively and more importantly, the story is also partial explanation why I
never walk right by a creature in need but always stop. If there is a good reason
why I can’t stop (e.g., there’s absolutely no time at all to stop or it’s too
dangerous to stop because of thieves on that road to
Stopping
for people
Because of my
story, I never walk by but always stop.
I remember, because I cannot forget, New Year’s Day, 1984. That’s the
day the Parable of the Good Samaritan came into full bloom for me. At high noon
I was on the road from
Not ten minutes
later my car left the highway, and my dog Tina and I landed in a deep ditch,
but not before hitting the only sign for miles around. I remember climbing up
to the top through the roaring wind and the sheets of snow. I remember also one
car after another passing us by, though at high noon and in such a storm we
were obviously no danger to anyone. I remember, too, my anger at all those
Jewish priests and Levites who wouldn’t stop. I remember getting angry and
crying out, “Haven’t you heard and seen something this holy Christmas season
that makes you want to make a difference on the highway of life?” No one
stopped except a thief to rob us. It was an
Behold the Parable of the Good Samaritan in full
bloom with its many facets! On the road to Jericho we are sometimes the Good
Samaritan, sometimes we are the poor man waylaid by robbers, sometimes we are
the Jewish priest and Levite passing right by glaring human needs, and
sometimes we are even thieves who victimize others.
Stopping
for animals
Because of my story,
I never walk by but always stop. I stop even
for animals. All life, human and animal, is a seamless robe for me. When I had to
put my dog Tina to sleep and was feeling very sad, I came upon a cat waylaid
and left half-dead in the alley.
Embracing
religiously defective people
People say, “There he
goes again with his, `Once upon a time a man was journeying from
Just this past week I
found yet another facet of this mother of all parables: embracing others who
are “religiously defective!”
Jews and Samaritans
(inhabitants of
Jesus, a Jew, went out of his way to be
kindly about religiously defective Samaritans. One day he met ten
lepers near the borders of
Jesus, a Jew, was
particularly kindly about religiously defective Samaritans when he crafted The Parable of the Good Samaritan. A Jew
was traveling from
Conclusion
How much more productive
This past Tuesday Pope Benedict approved a document
which restated
the key sections of a document issued in 2000
entitled Dominus Iesus, which he wrote as Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the
Faith. The new document reasserted the universal primacy of the Roman Catholic
Church and declared that Orthodox churches were “defective,” just as the Jews and
Samaritans of old declared each other as defective. The document also declared
that other Christian denominations were not true churches but merely “ecclesial
communities” and therefore did not have the “means of salvation.” That set off
a firestorm of criticism among Protestant. [3]
At the end of the day, what good comes from
asserting one’s primacy and another’s deficiency? How
much more productive and life-giving it is to be like Jesus, the Jew, who told
good stories and crafted good parables about religiously defective Samaritans!
How much more productive and life-giving it is to be like the Good Samaritan
who stopped to pour the oil of compassion upon a religiously defective Jew!