Commentary on the Gospel of October 6, 2025

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Jesus’ parables were far less harmless than we might think at first glance. Samaritans were seen as heretical Israelites, while priests and Levites enjoyed religious prestige. Yet in the parable of the Good Samaritan, it’s the heretic who comes out looking good, praised by Jesus, while the priest and the Levite are dismissed. This couldn’t have sat well with His listeners. That’s why a well-known commentator on the parables wrote a century ago: “No one would crucify a teacher who tells charming little stories to confirm safe moral values” (C.W. Smith). Clearly, Jesus’ message was far more challenging: He relativized worship (the priest and Levite, seeing someone from a distance—uncertain whether the person was sick, a leper, or dead—chose to go around him to avoid ritual impurity and continue their temple duties) and instead lifted up compassion, ethics, and the good heart of the heretical Samaritan.

A few decades ago, we used to sing: “He is with you (Jesus!) and you don’t recognize Him… and many who see Him walk on by, maybe just to get to the temple on time.” The Samaritan represents Jesus’ compassion, and the man left beaten on the road is Jesus Himself, the one who would one day say, “You did it to me… you didn’t do it to me.”

In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus tells this parable (possibly originally independent) to answer the question, “Who is my neighbor?” It’s a question that’s still very relevant today. In Europe, political parties debate the conditions an immigrant must meet to be admitted into one of our countries. No doubt, most of them present reasonable arguments: we need to be compassionate, but not naive to the point of risking our nation’s security. But it’s not clear whether all of them begin with the most basic principle: we are dealing with human beings—needy, suffering, often standing at the edge of what is truly human and what is not. Without oversimplifying: the Good Samaritan didn’t ask where the beaten man came from, he didn’t ask for his papers; he saw suffering and knew he had to act immediately. He would come back later and settle things with the innkeeper.

Early in his pontificate, the late Pope Francis said, “The Church is not an NGO.” Maybe he should have added the word “just,” because the community of Jesus, though looking toward a higher light, actually shares many traits with a healthy NGO. That’s why Francis quickly added that the Church should be like a “field hospital.” The Good Samaritan—a man off the path of authentic Israelite faith—became an example for those with more “correct” beliefs. They all knew the same Ten Commandments. They knew what the greatest commandment was. But some of them—perhaps too focused on arriving pure and on time to the temple—had nearly forgotten it.

May we, as believers, never forget the core of what it means to follow Jesus—and may we have the humility to listen when someone reminds us of it.

Your brother,