The Good Samaritan

“The Lord commending to the Holy Spirit His own man, who had fallen among thieves, whom He Himself compassionated, and bound up his wounds, giving two royal denaria; so that we, receiving by the Spirit the image and superscription of the Father and the Son, might cause the denarium entrusted to us to be fruitful, counting out the increase [thereof] to the Lord.”-Irenaeus¹Irenaeus, Against the Heresies 3.17.3, in Ante-Nicene Fathers, ed. Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson, and A. Cleveland Coxe, trans. Alexander Roberts and William Rambaut, CCEL, vol. 1 (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1885), 445, https://ccel.org/ccel/irenaeus/against_heresies_iv/anf01.ix.vi.vii.html. Hereafter, all citations will be given as “Irenaeus, Haer. 3.17.3 (Roberts and Rambaut, 445).”

For Irenaues of Lyons (c.120-202) the parable of the Good Samaritan encapsulated the Christian message. According to this second-century exegete, this parable taught that the Logos of the Father came at the right time to fulfill “all the conditions of human nature” in order that the image of God might be restored in mankind through the Spirit—a message his gnostic opponents had tarnished.²Irenaeus, Haer. 3.17.4 (Roberts and Rambaut, 445). As providence would have it, Irenaeus’s use of this parable—shared by nearly all premodern interpreters—is now the earliest known record of a figurative approach to it.

Over the last couple of centuries, this sort of reading has fallen out of favor. For instance, in his influential 40 Questions about Interpreting the Bible, Robert Plummer denies, even dismisses, such a reading. Citing both Luther and Calvin, he repeats a popular misunderstanding that the Reformation set in motion the recovery of the true meaning of the parables by breaking the “allegorical stranglehold on much of the Bible”—a recovery that was supposedly completed by the time of the twentieth century.³Robert L. Plummer, 40 Questions about Interpreting the Bible, Second edition, 40 Questions Series (Grand Rapids: Kregel Academic, 2021), 192. Cf. Robert H. Stein, An Introduction to the Parables of Jesus (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1981), 43–56; James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Luke, Pillar New Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2015); Joel B. Green, The Gospel of Luke, New International Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids: W.B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1997). Plummer believes the insights provided by historical criticism (rightly appropriated)⁴Plummer openly acknowledged the influence of Adolf Jülicher upon his own methodology as mediated through Robert Stein, while clearly rejecting Jülicher’s “skeptical and liberal theological predilections.”and redaction criticism enabled interpreters to recover the meaning of these parables. In this, Plummer follows Robert Stein’s contention that one must “seek the one main point of the parable [and not] seek allegorical details in a parable unless it is absolutely necessary,”⁵Stein, An Introduction to the Parables of Jesus, 56. and emphasizes that such a meaning would have been understood “by Jesus’s original, first-century Jewish Palestinian audience.”⁶Plummer, 40 Questions about Interpreting the Bible, 193. This hermeneutical development is thought to restore “the text itself” in a manner that maintains its “clear primacy over aberrant interpretations.”⁷Plummer, 194. Such a view, however, relies on significant—and shaky—assumptions about what a first century Jew would think and does not seem to do justice to Jesus’s own explanations of his parables. There’s a better path forward.

In this essay, I defend the “premodern” reading of this parable as legitimate by detailing how most interpreters in history understood this passage as illustrative of the Christian gospel and Christian love. Even if the exegetical minutiae are up for debate—aren’t they always?—this impulse was sound. Furthermore, even if one rejects figurative readings methodologically, we cannot escape how this parable is illustrative of the essence of Christianity. In other words, whether one accepts or rejects the “premodern” approach, people generally recognize this passage plays a prominent role in answering the question: “What is the Christian message?”

In making my defense, I describe what allegorical or figurative interpretation is and what it means to accomplish. Then, I provide a thematic overview that summarizes the various ways the parable of the Good Samaritan has been handled in the past.⁸In this format, it would be impossible to give a chronological survey of each view (especially if my goal is for you to finish reading this). This survey is based upon the views of Irenaeus (b. AD 130), Origen (AD third century), Augustine (AD 354–430), Cyril (d. AD 444), Bede (d. AD 735), Thomas (d. AD 1274), Martin Luther (AD 1483–1546), John Calvin (AD 1509–1564), Matthew Henry (AD 1662–1714), John Gill (AD 1697–1771), and Charles Spurgeon (AD 1834–1892). I then briefly evaluate these readings, contending that the figurative reading works—indeed works best—both textually and contextually. Lastly, I conclude with suggestions as to where we ought to go from here.

Figurative Interpretations: What They Do and What They Don’t

Confusion and concern persist about the nature and employment of allegory. Those who desire to respect the biblical text worry that allegory abuses it and goes beyond what Scripture teaches. Irenaeus and Origen themselves warned of how poor use of allegory—even in the parables—could lead one away from the truth of Scripture, as could be seen in their gnostic counterparts.⁹Irenaeus, Haer. 1.1.3 (Roberts and Rambaut, 317); Origen, Homilies on Luke: Fragments on Luke 16.5, trans. Joseph T. Lienhard, The Fathers of the Church, v. 94 (Washington, D.C: Catholic University of America Press, 1996), 140. However, one must keep in mind that for faithful interpreters, allegory is not meant to substantiate doctrine. Allegorical readings illustrated doctrines clearly revealed in the literal sense of Scripture. Such was the case with Paul’s use of allegory in Galatians 4. He used an allegorical reading of Sarah and Hagar to illustrate a doctrine that was plainly stated elsewhere, persuading others of his argument through the weight of the correspondences he was able to make. As John O’Keefe and R.R. Reno contended, “Allegory . . . is not a flight from the literal sense; it is a spiritually enriched and transformed loyalty.”¹⁰John J. O’Keefe and Russell R. Reno, Sanctified Vision: An Introduction to Early Christian Interpretation of the Bible (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2005), 89.

In this way, allegory belongs to the same family as typology, which is when certain figures, historical events, rituals, etc. take on deeper meaning due to their correspondence to some greater reality, good or evil, in the unfolding scope of God’s revelation. In fact, one could describe typology as a particular kind of allegorical interpretation, one centered on historically developing, divinely intended correspondences. However, in spite of their family resemblance, some operate with the belief that typology is the good kind of spiritual interpretation and allegory the bad kind.¹¹E.g. Brent Parker, “The Differences Between Typology and Allegory,” https://christoverall.com/article/concise/the-differences-between-typology-and-allegory/ Such a presumption is a mistake. As the terms developed in the writings of Origen, Peter Martens persuasively contended that both terms refer to non-literal interpretation and that the boundaries between the two are not as clear cut as moderns would prefer.¹²Peter W. Martens, “Revisiting the Allegory/Typology Distinction: The Case of Origen,” Journal of Early Christian Studies 16, no. 3 (2008): 283–317. The allegorical interpretation of the Parable of the Good Samaritan functions in a similar manner to how one might approach any typological reading in that it “adds a level of meaning that surpasses and completes the literal.”¹³O’Keefe and Reno, Sanctified Vision, 99.

As with typological readings, O’Keefe and Reno were correct to point out that “the persuasiveness of allegorical readings depends very much upon the economy the interpreter presupposes.”¹⁴O’Keefe and Reno, Sanctified Vision, 107. Adherents of Judaism are not convinced that Adam or Joseph or Moses or the High Priest or David are types of Jesus Christ, since they do not share the same economy of beliefs as Christians. Figurative readings of a text therefore expose the interpreter in a such a way that reveals their entire theological framework. Thus, when the Pharisees perceived their part in the allegory employed the parable of the tenants, they rejected it because they rejected Christ and his framework. As O’Keefe and Reno explained, “Allegorical interpretation offends by what it presumes and not by how it proceeds.”¹⁵O’Keefe and Reno, Sanctified Vision, 109.

Part of the offense with the allegorical treatments of the Parable of the Good Samaritan is that all the cards are on the table. One’s entire theological system comes to the forefront—even if the premodern approach is rejected.

To list just three examples: (1) Joel Green’s NICNT commentary on this text shows how much the New Perspective on Paul has shaped biblical studies of the Gospels. He emphasizes allegiance and how the Good Samaritan “undermines the determination of status in the community of God’s people on the basis of ascription, substituting in its place a concern with performance, the granting of status on the basis of one’s actions.”¹⁶Joel B. Green, The Gospel of Luke, EBook, New International Commentary on the New Testament (W.B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1997), 508–10. (2) In his work, Unexpected News: Reading the Bible with Third World Eyes, Robert McAffee Brown’s liberation theology comes through in his reading of this text. He reimagines the Good Samaritan in our own day as a call to arms to subvert the system and organize efforts to aid the oppressed, such as lowering interest rates so that the crime rate would decrease among the poor, particularly minorities.¹⁷Robert McAffee Brown, Unexpected News: Reading the Bible with Third World Eyes (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1984), 115–16. (3) Unlike the two aforementioned examples, even conservative Protestants like Nicholas Perrin show their (sometimes problematic) cards in dealing with this text. Specifically, Perrin reflects contemporary confusion about the Law/Gospel distinction by blurring the lines between the gracious invitation of the gospel and the good use of the Law. While he tries to maintain orthodox soteriology, he unintentionally undermines his position when he argues that “Jesus means to say that those who truly love God and neighbour will do so only by availing themselves of the mediatorial Son, as spelled out in verse 22. Put differently, if ‘whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me’ (9:48), then one who truly loves God and neighbour on God’s terms will also love Jesus as well, and inherit eternal life.”¹⁸Nicholas Perrin, Luke: An Introduction and Commentary, EBook, Tyndale New Testament Commentaries, ed. Eckhard J. Schnabel, vol. 3 (InterVarsity Press, 2022), 214. To be fair to Perrin, clear handling of Law and Gospel progresses throughout the interpretative history of the parables, crystallizing in the writers after the Reformation, with some earlier writers not being explicit in the distinction.

Whatever one’s methodology, this Parable confronts us with the essence of Christianity, and it reveals in those who interpret it the key foundations of their theological outlook. In what follows, I overview the premodern approach in its consensuses and its variations ultimately to contend that the allegorical approach best handles the message of the text.

Christ, The Good Samaritan

²⁵ And behold, a lawyer stood up to put him to the test, saying, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” ²⁶ He said to him, “What is written in the Law? How do you read it?” ²⁷ And he answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” ²⁸ And he said to him, “You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live.” ²⁹ But he, desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

³⁰ Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him and departed, leaving him half dead. ³¹ Now by chance a priest was going down that road, and when he saw him he passed by on the other side. ³² So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. ³³ But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion. ³⁴ He went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he set him on his own animal and brought him to an inn and took care of him. ³⁵ And the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Take care of him, and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.’ ³⁶ Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?” ³⁷ He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” And Jesus said to him, “You go, and do likewise.”  (Luke 10:25–37, ESV)

In the history of this passage’s interpretation, a surprising and impressive unity emerged regarding the broad themes of the history of salvation, pastoral ministry, and Christian love. The parable encapsulated the metanarrative of God’s working in the world and man’s place in it, emphasizing one’s need for salvation by God’s grace through the incarnation of the Son of God.  Additionally, the parable cast a vision for pastoral ministry in the church as well as calling all Christians to a love that transcended any dividing line imposed by society. While figuratively communicated, these derived from close readings of the text that examined the geography, etymologies, and biblical theology of the details of Jesus’s parable.

Of course, this unity is not a precise uniformity and does have a notable exception in John Calvin, who rejected a Christological reading of the parable. Another distinct approach would be Charles Spurgeon who rejected the label of allegory and opted instead for the label of analogy.¹⁹Charles Spurgeon, “The Good Samaritan,” in Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, vol. 23 (London, 1877), 358–360, https://www.spurgeon.org/resource-library/sermons/the-good-samaritan/#flipbook/10. Nevertheless, he comes to the same conclusions through the route of the lesser to greater analogy; he is more in continuity with premodern interpreters than Calvin. A final exception would be Cyril of Alexandria who was no stranger to allegorical readings but did not go that route in handling this text.²⁰While some manuscripts of Cyril’s have allegorical interpretations, many modern historians maintain these were additions by Theophylact of Ohrid (11th century. Cf. Cyril, Commentary on the Gospel of St. Luke 68, trans. Robert Payne Smith (New York: Studion Publishers, 1983), 290n3. Exceptions notwithstanding, of the seventeen details typically highlighted in this parable (bolded above), fourteen of the details are interpreted along the same lines to emphasize one of the five themes outlined above. (See this PDF containing a table consolidating my findings here: The Good Samaritan)

For most premodern interpreters, the parable began where the Bible began: man’s fall from his blessedness in Eden to life in this fallen world. As John Gill noted, “this certain man, may represent mankind falling in Adam, from a state of happiness, into misery.”²¹John Gill, An Exposition of the New Testament, Logos Edition, vol. 1 (Paris, AR: Matthews and Leigh, 1809), 596. As Thomas explained, it was by this “falling away” that mankind became beholden “to miseries, and to the infirmity of this sad and changeable life” and descended “from the heavenly Jerusalem.”²²Thomas Aquinas, Ninety-Nine Homilies of S. Thomas Aquinas upon the Epistles and Gospels Forty-Nine Sundays of the Christian Year 26, trans. John Ashley (London: Church Press Company, 1867), 46 (150). Whereas Augustine relied on the etymological connection between Jericho and the moon to communicate our mortal existence,²³Augustine, Questions on the Gospels 2.19, in New Testament I and II, ed. Boniface Ramsey, trans. Roland J. Teske, The Works of Saint Augustine: A Translation for the 21st Century 15–16 (Hyde Park, New York: New City Press, 2014), 388. John Gill relied on the biblical theological significance of the accursed nature of Jericho to make the connection.²⁴Gill, An Exposition, 596. Significantly, for Gill the movement from Jerusalem to Jericho was more relevant for interpretation than the well-known dangers of that road. The biblical theologies of both cities communicated something deeper that, by God’s providence, was reinforced by the historical realities of life in the first century.

Reflecting Scripture’s unfolding story, the parable moves from the primordial Mt. Zion to the sad land east of Eden finally to the hope of the New Jerusalem. The man who left—and nearly died because of it—was attacked by robbers who (largely taken to be Satan and his followers) and is left wounded in his own sins. His half-dead state revealed the man’s dire situation and need for divine grace and rescue. Interpreters differed over what was signified by the “half” in half-dead. Most Patristic and Medieval interpreters, along with Luther, saw it as the continuation of human nature despite their spiritual death such that humans maintained a knowledge of God that was properly natural but insufficient for redemption.²⁵Augustin, Questions 2.19 (Teske, 15); Thomas, Homilies 26.1 (Ashley, 46 (150)); Martin Luther, Sermons by Martin Luther II. 28–29, trans. John Nicholas Lenker, vol. 5 (Online: sermons.martinluther.us/, n.d.). Later writers focused more on original sin and spiritual death, with Gill emphasizing three aspects of death: (1) its natural curse, spiritual death, and eternal death from which man could be rescued in this life.²⁶Gill, An Exposition, 596.

This problem, however, could not be rectified by the Priest nor the Levite who passed him by, who in some form or fashion were taken to refer to the Old Covenant. Luther stated it well when he noted that,

“Now when I see by the law that I am condemned, lying even among murderers, half dead, the devil has stolen my soul and taken it captive in Adam and Eve, with all faith and righteousness, and has left nothing except my bodily life which will soon be extinguished; now here come the Levite and the priest, who render human satisfaction and teach this and that; but it does no good, they pass by.”²⁷Martin Luther, Sermons by Martin Luther II. 44–45, trans. John Nicholas Lenker, vol. 5 (Online: sermons.martinluther.us/, n.d.).

The symbols of the Law did not bring the man home; the kindness of the Good Samaritan did.

According to Origen, the Samaritan was no haphazard traveler but was on a mission equipped with what was necessary to save those like the man. “You learn that clearly from the fact that he had bandages, oil, and wine with him,”Origen explained, “I do not think that the Samaritan carried these things with him only on behalf of that one, half­dead man, but also on behalf of others who, for various reasons, had been wounded and needed bandages, oil, and wine.”²⁸Origen, Homilies 34.8 (Lienhard, 140).

Everyone took the Good Samaritan to be emblematic of Christ who came to seek and save the lost yet not always for the same reasons. Aquinas simply asserts it as the case;²⁹Thomas, Homilies 26 (Ashley, 46 (150)). Augustine and Origen drew on an etymological connection derived from the shared Hebrew root (שׁמר) for both Samaritan and guardian, seeing Christ’s role as our guardian subtly signified.³⁰Origen, Homilies 34.5 (Lienhard, 139); Augustine, Questions 2.19 (Teske, 388). Cf. Ludwig Koehler et al., The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament, Logos, ed. and trans. M.E.J. Richardson (Brill, 2000), s.v. שׁמר, שֹׁמְרוֹן. Others like Henry and Gill, along with Origen, read this passage intertextually with John 8:48, in which Jesus was called a Samaritan by the Pharisees;³¹Matthew Henry, Matthew Henry’s Commentary on the Whole Bible, vol. 5 (Fleming H. Revell Company, 1975), 688; Gill, Exposition, 597; Origen, Homilies 34.5 (Lienhard, 139). and others still like Martin Luther did not rely on any such lexical connection but simply the similarity of character between Christ and the Good Samaritan.³²Luther, Sermons II. 25 (Lenker).

The Samaritan then binds the man’s wounds, treating him with oil and wine. Ironically, Origen put forth the least allegorical interpretation of the oil and wine, opting instead for a scientific reading that emphasized their medicinal uses and the joy such healing brought.³³Origen, Homilies 34.7 (Lienhard, 140). While no consensus developed regarding the exact referent signified by the oil and wine, all hold them to be some important aspect of Christ’s work that fits into his larger work of healing mankind from their sin.³⁴A combination of Origen’s medicinal reading along with John Gill’s contention that the oil refers to the grace of the Spirit and the wine to the free justification through the blood of Christ is my preferred reading of the two. Interpreters agree that the binding of wounds referred to Christ’s healing work, but their distinct theological frameworks (based on their understanding of other Scriptures) came through in their allegorical readings.

For instance, Irenaeus framed his in terms of recapitulation and Luther within his Law/Gospel theology. The comparison of Thomas Aquinas and John Gill proves especially salient, revealing some of the fundamental differences between their understandings of the mechanisms of justification. Thomas thought the binding up of wounds referred to “the institution of the Sacraments for the salvation of sinners,” within his framework of infused grace from the Spirit.³⁵Thomas, Sermons 26.II.2–3 (Ashley, 46–47 (150–51)). Gill, as a Protestant, rejected such an understanding of justification and emphasized “the free justification by Christ’s righteousness and pardon through his blood.”³⁶Gill, An Exposition, 597. Furthermore, as a Calvinistic Baptist, he framed it in light of Christ meeting the demands of God’s eternal covenant of redemption in his incarnation that he might show salvific compassion to his elect. As Gill explained, it was:

“The compassion of Christ on his elect, is to be seen in his eternal covenant-engagements. . . . [it was] part of the work of Christ, to bind up the broken-hearted, to heal wounded sinners, and restore comforts to mourners; and which he does, by pouring in oil and wine: by which, in general, may be designed, the blood of Christ, applied to the conscience of a wounded sinner; which cleanses from all sin, heals all the wounds and diseases of sin, cheers and revives fainting spirits, gives ease, peace, and pleasure, and is therefore exceeding valuable and precious.”³⁷Gill, An Exposition, 597.

Even within the broad contention that the binding of the wounds was the healing work of Christ, one’s acceptance of a particular allegorical reading depended largely on a theological system already held, again, based on other clear teachings of Scripture. If one rejects infused justification through the sacraments—as they should—they’ll reject Thomas’s reading. However, if one is reticent to affirm the doctrines of the covenant of redemption and election—as they should not be—then they’ll likewise reject Gill’s reading—even if they agree on justification. All of this shows how allegorical or figurative readings of parables do not legitimately contend for doctrines; they presume them.

Returning to the parable, as things progress in the narrative more unity in interpretation is restored. The Samaritan bearing the man on his beast of burden corresponds with the burden borne in the body of Christ. Various intertexts or none at all are given to support this claim. Origen connects it to Christ’s call to those who are burdened to come to him that he might bear it in Matthew 11.³⁸Origen, Homilies 34.7, (Lienhard, 140). Thomas reads it in light of 1 Peter 2’s claim that Christ bore our sins in his body.³⁹Thomas, Sermons 26.II.4 (Ashley, 47 (151)). Luther reads it in light of the parable of the lost sheep and the Shepherd (also Jesus) who carries the sheep on his shoulders back home.⁴⁰Luther, Sermons II. 34 (Lenker). Gill connects it to the Lord who appeared in a vision as a man on his red horse in Zechariah 1:8,⁴¹Gill, An Exposition, 598. which revealed Christ’s eagerness “in the council and covenant of grace, to agree to become man, and be the surety of his people, and die in their room and stead.”⁴²John Gill, An Exposition of the Old Testament, Logos Edition, vol. 6 (Paris, AR: Matthews and Leigh, 1809), 678. The majority, however, perceived an image, or at least a potential image, of the incarnation and sought to communicate the importance of a Christology that affirmed the Son of God possessing a full human nature.

The Samaritan did not bear the man all the way home, but entrusted him to the care of an innkeeper at an inn, depicting the care which Christ provided in his church either through his angels/pastor? (Origen), the apostles (Augustine), or ministers of the Word (Luther & Gill). While the specific referents differ, each interpreter framed the church’s ministry as continual nurture and care using the means which Christ provided. Now, no agreement exists regarding to what the two denarii correspond, with many offering more than one alternative, since there are many things a Christian needs in life. Perhaps it’s the two testaments (Gill) or the double love (Augustine) or the Law and the Gospel (Luther) or knowledge of the Father and Son via the Spirit (Irenaeus)—or it could be the two marks of a true church, the proper administration of Word and Sacrament. The more pressing point was the church being a place of recovery and continued healing from the wounds of sin through the provisions of Christ himself. Through the work of the church, “Christ serves and purifies me by the grace he pours into me, so that day by day I become purer, chaster, milder, gentler and more believing until I die, when I shall be entirely perfect.”⁴³Luther, Sermons II. 45 (Lenker). Pastors would do well to envision their ministries in terms of this innkeeper.

While the man remains unconscious at the end of the story, the parable ends on a hopeful note for the Samaritan promises to return for the man, which “represents the Savior’s second coming.”⁴⁴Origen, Homilies 34.3 (Lienhard, 137). The promise to cover expenses for Gill referred to the fact that Christ will “recompense his ministers, for all their toil and labour, care and expense; he’ll then bid them, as good and faithful servants, enter into the joy of their Lord; and when they shall every one receive the reward of his own work, in a way of grace, and shall shine as the stars in the firmament, for ever and ever.”⁴⁵Gill, An Exposition, 598.

A Legitimate Reading?

Now, the question remains: is this a legitimate reading of the text? Here are five reasons commending reading the Parable of the Samaritan this way:

First, handled appropriately at every turn, it utilizes the analogy of Scripture or intertextuality in its connections, remains well within the boundaries of the rule or analogy of faith, and encourages both love for God and for neighbor.⁴⁶John Owen, The Complete Works of John Owen: The Holy Spirit—The Helper, ed. Andrew S. Ballitch, vol. 7 (Crossway, 2023), 306–07. Cf. I have addressed this criterion more completely here: Hunter Hindsman, “Seeing the One Called Wonderful: John Owen’s Theological Interpretation of the Scriptures.” The Hanover Review 3, no. 2 (2024): 13–16.

Second, it is consistent with how Jesus interpreted other parables. In Matthew 13, this is precisely how Jesus interprets his own parables: connecting specific details to various realities. Likewise it coheres with the Christological focus of parables in Luke. Particularly of note are the three in Luke 15 that emphasize Christ saving the lost and the parable of the wicked tenants which depicts elements of salvation history culminating in Christ. In other words, there are many Scriptural examples of parables in which the hero of the story corresponds to Christ. Why is this one any different?

Third, this interpretation fits with the surrounding context. The gospel ministry of the seventy-two emphasizes the healing of the kingdom. Jesus gives thanks for the obscuring of the truth from the wise immediately before this exchange with the lawyer (readers are left wondering if he got the point). Immediately following, we see Mary and Martha as two arguably paradigmatic figures, one living by the Law and the other living by the Gospel.⁴⁷Thankful for my friend and fellow member of the London Lyceum Society, Jon Hyatt, for this insight. Martha focused on doing which corresponds to the surface meaning of the parable; Mary rested in Christ’s presence which corresponds to the allegorical meaning. Broader than chapter 10, reading the Samaritan as Christ coheres with Luke’s presentation of Christ as the Son of Man who came to seek and to save the lost (Luke 19:10 ESV)—a verse that perhaps forms the backdrop behind Origen’s contention that the Samaritan was no happenstance traveler.

Fourth, the impact of the moral example of the Samaritan is not hindered by the figurative reading of the text that sees the whole of salvation history contained within this short narrative. Origen spoke of imitating Christ’s example in this parable by means of the Samaritan in becoming a “man’s neighbor more by deed than by word.”⁴⁸Origen, Homilies, 34.9 (Lienhard, 140). Aquinas, Luther, Henry, Gill, and Spurgeon each made the moral connection, calling for Christlike compassion that befits his coming kingdom. Making figurative connections does not sacrifice any of the parable’s strong moral force.

Finally, this reading best provides the answers for the lawyer’s questions about what he must do to inherit eternal life and who is his neighbor.⁴⁹Tranvik, “The Good Samaritan as Good News: Martin Luther and the Recovery of the Gospel in Preaching,” Word & World 38, no. 3 (2018): 252–61. In short, this interpretation maintains that Jesus first proclaims the Law to him, and then by means of a parable proclaims the gospel by which he could truly have eternal life if he had ears to hear while also answering his question about neighbors. In short, the figurative reading as I’ve outlined above is equipped with the best theological categories to properly handle the passage in the broader context of the New Testament’s message. Luther, in particular, excelled at tying all the themes together when he closed his second sermon by envisioning us standing before God:

“Thus when we now come before God the Father and are asked: whether we have also believed and loved God, and have wholly fulfilled the law; then the Samaritan will step forth, Christ the Lord, who carries us lying on his beast, and say; Alas, Father! although they have not wholly fulfilled thy law, yet I have done so, let this be to their benefit because they believe in me.”⁵⁰Luther, Sermons II. 46 (Lenker).

Final Word

Thus, to conclude, I maintain that the figurative approach to the Parable of the Good Samaritan is not only warranted but also better than the alternative. The notion that the Reformation sounded the death knell for the allegorical approach is inaccurate, for this parable proved to be a vehicle in which the glorious truths of that movement could be powerfully presented. And those who embrace the allegorical approach to the Good Samaritan stand amongst a cloud of many witnesses who have gone before them. Indeed, as I have argued, the Lord himself communicated these truths as part of his sovereign will in using the parables to both obscure and reveal truth (Matt 13:10–17). Today, the lawyer’s two questions remain ever pertinent. The need to protect the purity of the free offer of justification in the gospel as well as the need to extend the neighborly love that befits any human person regardless of kith, kin, or creed both continue to present themselves. Through the spiritual interpretation of this story that has set itself in the bones of our culture, the church can powerfully proclaim our good gospel with the full terror of our failure to meet the Law’s demands while also exhorting the faithful to imitate the beautiful virtue of Christ, our Good Samaritan.