Today’s Gospel lesson is the parable of “The Good Samaritan” in Luke 10. Yesterday I sat down with an Iranian liturgical assistant to go over the service with him. “What is a ‘Samaritan’?” he asked. I replied that Samaritans were unfairly considered among the lowest people in Jewish society because they were descendants of Israelites who had intermarried with unbelieving Gentiles centuries earlier. There was a blank expression on his face. “What Jesus means in this parable,” I concluded, “is that while the people who should have helped the wounded traveler looked away, it was the most unlikely person—an outsider who was looked down upon—who stooped down and rescued the traveler.” “Hmm,” he murmured. Having finished our work, I asked him how he got to Germany. He replied that he had walked most of the way—a journey of over 3,000 miles that took him 1 1/2 years. He became a Christian on the way, having heard the Gospel in a Turkish refugee camp, of all places. But one of his lowest points since leaving Iran was being homeless right here in Germany several winters ago. It was freezing cold, and he was crouched down on the sidewalk—shivering. Many people walked by, ignoring him. After a long while, one man stopped and asked him whether he had any place to stay. My friend replied that he did not. The man said, “Come with me. I’ll take you in until this cold snap is over.” The stranger made room for my friend on his couch, gave him hot tea, and wrapped him in blankets. My friend became emotional as he recalled the kindness of this stranger—a fellow Iranian and Muslim. “That man was your Good Samaritan,” I offered. “Here we are, in a Christian country. Many people walked by. But it was the most unlikely person—a migrant himself—who rescued you.” With tears running down his face, he nodded: “Now I understand what the parable is saying. And Jesus is *our* Good Samaritan because we are all travelers—wounded by our sins. Yet He rescued us—on the cross.”
