If you think about it, the Parable of the Good Samaritan is the prophecies of Amos told from the inside out. Instead of future catastrophe caused by a refusal to love God and our neighbors, the loss and suffering are already here: right in front of us. The man is a victim of those Amos condemned: those who do not love and who refuse to be held accountable.
Allen Vander Meulen, July 13, 2025
The themes this morning’s readings have in common are of Samaritans, strangers, loss, and restoration.
Northern Israel, where Amos prophesied, was known as Samaria. The Samaritans of Jesus time (and even today) claim descent from those left behind in the devastated land after Samaria was conquered and most of its people exiled in about 720 BC.
In Jesus’ parable, the stranger is a Samaritan. In Amos, the stranger is Amos himself. Amos is the earliest of the 12 minor prophets. (“Minor” because their books are short, not because anyone thought them unimportant.) Amos is the model for prophetic ministry that all of his successors followed, including John the Baptist and Jesus.
Amos ministered in Samaria about 25 or 30 years before it was conquered, shortly after the first Olympics were held in Greece; and about the time legend says Rome was founded.
The Kingdoms of Samaria and Judah were both at the height of their power, wealth, and influence. Things were good – the borders were secure. People were getting rich. The land was at peace.
But Amos is a gloomy guy … don’t invite him to a party! He prophesied the unthinkable: that their glorious and wealthy Kingdom would be destroyed by the Assyrians.
Amos was born in the Judean town of Tekoa; which is a Hebrew word meaning “trumpet.” “Amos” itself means “brave” or “strong.” So, he was an immigrant. He was also a brave, strong, trumpet: speaking truth to power for those who didn’t want to see or hear. … Sounds familiar.
Right after our reading, we are told that Samaria’s High Priest Amaziah was angered by Amos’s prophesies and misrepresents his words to King Jeroboam. Amaziah then tells Amos to go back to Judah, where he belongs. … Immigrants were not welcome, even then. Amos’ book then launches into even more prophetic doom and gloom. And yet, his book does not end in despair; but with hope; closing with these words….
I will restore the fortunes of my people Israel, and they shall rebuild the ruined cities and inhabit them; they shall plant vineyards and drink their wine, and they shall make gardens and eat their fruit. I will plant them upon their land, and they shall never again be plucked up out of the land that I have given them, says the Lord your God. [Amos 9:14-15, NRSVUE]
… I’m reminded of what Winston Churchill is reputed to have said, “If you’re going through Hell, keep going!” …Which is a typically pugnacious Churchillian take on the same idea: things will get better: don’t give up hope, don’t stop.
Now, let’s turn to the parable of the Good Samaritan. Jesus shares it in response to the young lawyer’s question of “Who is my neighbor?” He was attempting to trap Jesus. He thought that no matter how Jesus responded, his answer would anger the Romans, or the Jews, or perhaps both.
As we all know, Jesus sidestepped the whole issue: We can’t pick our neighbors. In fact, everyone is our neighbor.
If you think about it, the Parable of the Good Samaritan is the prophecies of Amos told from the inside out. Instead of future catastrophe caused by a refusal to love God and our neighbors, the loss and suffering are already here: right in front of us. The man is a victim of those Amos condemned: those who do not love and who refuse to be held accountable.
The Priest and the Levite see the man, but continue on their way, ignoring him. To them, he was a problem they could not allow themselves to see. By ignoring him, they thought they avoided accountability, and preserved their self-defined pristine spiritual status. Yet their choice allowed the suffering to continue. Their inaction was the problem, just as Amos condemned in his time. They forgot about Amos’s Plumb Line, that God measures us continually, and will apply correction when needed.
Then comes the Samaritan, a stranger – an outsider, travelling through Judean territory, where everyone he encounters will despise him.
Yet in the parable the Samaritan is the hero, not a victim, not someone to despise. He sees the man. He binds up his wounds and arranges for his care. The lessons of the parable seem obvious. There is no excuse for being uninvolved. We all can and must minister to those in need, when those with power choose to be blind to pain and injustice. Our faith impels us to not ignore those who suffer. Jesus calls upon us to minister to those in need, even when it is inconvenient or costly. Being an enemy is no excuse.
This is an important lesson, one we deeply believe; even though it can be very challenging. But the story doesn’t end there: Parables seek to insert us into the narrative. They make us wonder where we are, and who we are, in the story.
So, who do each of these characters represent? Who are we in this parable?
The Robbers, the Priest, and the Levite were obvious to Jesus’ audience. His listeners are simple folk, poor and uneducated. They did not see themselves in those three characters. Those people had power, his audience didn’t. We here today also do not see ourselves in the Priest, the Levite, or the Robbers. We see ourselves in the Good Samaritan; but is this correct?
Jesus’ followers, like those of Amos, like many in today’s world, were being dispossessed and harmed by those who already had wealth and power. Those are the robbers in the parable.
Who did the robbers rob? Not the Good Samaritan. He was an outsider, uninvolved, a stranger travelling, probably hesitantly, in hostile land. Unaware of the crime until he saw the man. He was not one whom Jesus’ audience identified-with.
Jesus’ listeners saw themselves in the man. He who was robbed, beaten, left to die. … Just like many of them. That is who we are in the parable.
But, parables are designed to present us with questions that have no simple answer. So, is this answer complete and final?
Amos’s book ends with hope. God restored that all that was lost. The land and the people are again healthy and prosperous. But in the parable we only see the beginning of healing. God’s grace and love begin working, through an outsider. A stranger is the one bringing healing and hope, but we don’t see the fullness of the man’s restoration. We don’t know how it turns out.
Is knowing how the story ends important? I think not: Yes, we are called to help, but we are not responsible for what the person we’re helping does with their healing. That is up to them, between them and God. — Not between them, God, and us.
We know the Holy Spirit is here, working through us. Making the Kingdom of God manifest, binding us together as one. And, we see this through what the Good Samaritan does. So, maybe we aren’t the man, maybe we really are the Good Samaritan. Or maybe we still are the man, since the question of what he (or we) do with salvation is left unknown.
Our neighbors can be enemies, just like Amaziah was to Amos; probably just like the Samaritan would have been seen by the man. But Jesus teaches that every stranger, even an enemy, is a neighbor. So, maybe we are meant to see ourselves in both the Good Samaritan and the man.
An important metaphor in our reading from Amos is the plumb line: an example of how God is always watching, always helping, and will never forget us. A plumb line doesn’t let us get away with poor workmanship. Through it, God’s Grace is always active. God is constantly checking to ensure we will achieve God’s plan. If we don’t measure up, God will tear us down and start again. We cannot escape the grace of God.
Many in both Amos’ and Jesus’ day, and still, were offended by Amos’ and Jesus’ teaching because they teach that power and position mean nothing. They convey no privilege, or advantage, or merit in God’s eyes.
Amos teaches that being under the watchful eye of God is uncomfortable, even painful. – Yah! All that we, and the Jews, and the people of Samaria, and the Romans, put our trust in: our cities and churches; our military and police; our weapons; and our wealth; are not sufficient. They cannot protect us, and will all eventually fail. The land will be made desolate. But, it will be rebuilt and restored to the people. Just as Amos prophesied.
In the parable, the restoration begins with the Samaritan binding up the man’s wounds; but it doesn’t end there. It continued with his providing for the man to recover. We are told he will return to check and make sure the healing continues, just like with God’s plumb line. And, the innkeeper’s efforts will be repaid.
But, the Samaritan’s promise to return means the parable is messing with us again. The Samaritan is providing for the man’s present and future needs. So, maybe the Samaritan is Jesus, whom we know will return again. Or, maybe Jesus is in all three: Us, the Stranger, and the man, and maybe the innkeeper too. Isn’t that what the Holy Spirit is all about?
The journey with God never ends. God is always here, always working through us, and all those around us.
Wealthy or not, deserving or not, we cannot escape the fierce and unrelenting love of God. We will be measured again and again. We will fail, again and again. But restoration is promised. We will be made straight and true.
In both these stories there is hope. Hope that never fails. Hope that remains alive and active. It impels us to pursue God’s call upon our lives, and not give up. As the lawyer quoted to Jesus, we are to love God and one another – the Great Commandment. Jesus responded by teaching that we are to do so for all, not just those who live next door, doing so without exception or reservation.
And so, in the midst of this, our own season from Hell, where there is so much, so much, hate, and evil, and destruction, and anger, and rushes to judgment, and death, there is hope. Losses, great losses, will occur, and are occurring, but we know God’s hope and trust in us will never die or fade away. We know this hope includes us and all our neighbors. We know we will not be left beaten and naked, alone, lost in our pain and despair.
So, don’t ignore those in need, never stop loving our neighbors and enemies, hard as that is. And don’t stop: keep going, the work is never done.
Amen.
Scripture References & Readings:
Delivered at Memorial Congregational Church UCC in Sudbury MA, July 13th, 2025: (Fifth Sunday after Pentecost)
Copyright 2025, Allen Vander Meulen III, all rights reserved.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.
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