The Victim beside the Road in the Story of the Samaritan
by Charles W. Hedrick
Abstract
Of all the characters in the story of the Samaritan, only the victim has no identity at all. What is one to think about the anonymous traveler?
Because of the other specific social markers in the story (priest, Levite, Samaritan), readers generally assume that the victim is Jewish.
There are those who believe that the identity of the victim is not important to the message of the parable. Repeated use of the phrase “by chance” challenges the idea that social markers are important. From the victim's perspective it did not really matter who the other travelers were; what mattered was what they did.
In the story of the Samaritan there are six characters: robbers, a victim, a priest and Levite, a Samaritan, and an innkeeper. All but two of these characters, the victim and the Samaritan, are identified by their functional roles in society. It is only the victim who has no identity at all.
This victim has no clothes to help identify either village or ethnic background. They were stripped off and taken during the robbery. There is no social marker of any sort that would help to identify the traveler. The road from Jerusalem to Jericho would have been traveled by people of many nationalities. What is one to think about the anonymous traveler? In one sense “he” could be anyone.
Because of the other specific social markers in the story (priest, Levite, Samaritan), readers generally assume that the victim is Jewish. The assumption does fit the social context of Jesus’ ministry quite well. For Jews of the first century, Samaritans were a people despised.
Identifying the wounded traveler as Jewish allows the story to be heard as anti-temple. The priest and the Levite (representatives of the Temple), and by association whole temple cult in Jerusalem, are criticized. They look contemptuous and considerably less than charitable, whatever the reason they passed up the wounded man.
Some scholars have cited a rabbinic tradition that says Jews who accept aid from a Samaritan will delay the redemption of Israel. If, then, the wounded traveler was Jewish, the story becomes an open attack on first-century Jewish theology and piety. It seems to point out the foolishness of tying Israel’s redemption to such a bigoted idea.
There are those who believe that the identity of the victim is not important to the message of the parable. Repeated use of the phrase “by chance” challenges the idea that social markers are important. The thrust of the phrase in 10.31 is that it really makes no difference who comes down the road. As long as the travelers act in the ways that the priest, Levite, and Samaritan in the story acted, the story works quite well.
From the view of such a reading, the anonymity of the first traveler becomes significant as a deliberate design of the story. It is easier for any reader to identify with the wounded traveler beside the road, because this figure lacks social markers of any sort. The first traveler was both nobody and anybody. From the first traveler’s perspective it did not really matter who the second, third, and fourth travelers were; what mattered was what they did.
Taking the anonymity of the victim seriously turns the narrative into a story about humane concern for a fellow human being of whatever nationality.
Full Article
The Characters
In the story of the Samaritan there are six dramatic roles: robbers, a half-dead victim lying to one side of the road, a priest and Levite, a Samaritan, and an innkeeper. All but two of these characters, the injured person beside the road and the Samaritan, are identified by their functional roles in society. In accordance with Torah, priests and Levites were temple functionaries in both the Jewish temple at Jerusalem and the Samaritan temple on Mount Gerizim. Robbers were “outlaws,” that is, those who lived outside of society’s laws and preyed upon their fellow human beings living inside the law. The innkeeper was a businessman who provided services for a fee to members of society. Robbers and innkeepers are general terms that would fit virtually all ancient societies. Priests were virtually universal in ancient religions, but when coupled with the designation “Levite,” both functionaries are to be identified with two specific ancient religions that called for their services: Judaism and Samaritanism.
The Samaritan is identified by his ethnic background. Samaritans saw themselves as descendants of the northern Kingdom of Israel (from the half tribes of Ephraim and Manasseh), who survived the deportations in 722 B.C. For a time they had their own temple on Mount Gerizim to accommodate the instructions of Torah to conduct sacrifices. Their sacred Scriptures were the first five books of the Hebrew Bible, and they regarded themselves as the true descendants of Abraham and the guardians of the Israelite Law.
It is only the first traveler who has no specific identifying features. The reader is only told that this first traveler in the story plays the role of victim and as such is either ignored by the priest and the Levite or made the recipient of the Samaritan’s benevolence. This victim of the robbers’ cruelty has no clothes to help identify either village or ethnic background, because they were stripped off and taken during the robbery. There is no social marker of any sort that would help to identify the first traveler. The road from Jerusalem to Jericho would have been traveled by people of many nationalities. If recent discussion on the function of the term anthropos is considered seriously in this context, then anthropos (10.30) probably ought to be taken as a description of the traveler as “human being” or “person” rather than regarding it as the gender-specific “male.” The word anthropos in both ancient and modern Greek distinguishes the human species from animals, and so “human being” is a better translation than “man.” The ancient Greek word aner (modern Greek andras) is used in a gender-specific way. Hence we cannot even be certain that “he” is male. The person’s anonymity is surprising in a story that uses such specific societal markers for its characters. What is one then to think about the anonymous traveler? In one sense “he” could be anyone, since the story fails to provide an identifying social code of any sort.
Suppose the Injured Person Were Jewish...
Because of the other specific social markers in the story (priest, Levite, Samaritan), interpreters generally assume that the anonymous figure beside the road is Jewish. The assumption does fit the social context of Jesus’ ministry quite well. The hostility between Jews and Samaritans in that period is well known. Jews grouped the Samaritans with Gentiles and denied their claim to be sons of Abraham. For Jews of the first century, Samaritans were a people despised.
Identifying the wounded traveler as Jewish allows the narrative to be heard as an anti-temple story, with the Jewish temple the brunt of the story’s attack. From this perspective the chief representatives of the Jewish temple (priests and Levites) failed to express a basic humane concern for the wounded traveler, but the hated Samaritan, on the other hand, rendered aid even to a Jew, a traditional “enemy” of his own people whom Jews despised. In such a scenario the priest and the Levite (the representatives of the temple cult), and by association the Jewish temple cult in Jerusalem, are made to look contemptuous and considerably less than charitable, whatever the reason they passed up the wounded man.
There is another way that the story has been read. On the assumption that the wounded traveler was Jewish, some interpreters have cited a rabbinic tradition that says Jews who accept aid from a Samaritan will delay the redemption of Israel. Against such a background, assuming that the wounded traveler was Jewish turns the story into an open attack on first-century Jewish theology and piety. The wounded traveler was near death and could not have refused aid from the Samaritan, even if the rabbinic tradition were known or remembered. Under the circumstances, it is unlikely that anyone would have refused aid regardless of who was offering it. If the rabbinic tradition is invoked as the justification for assuming the wounded man to be Jewish, the story is then pointing out the foolishness of tying Israel’s redemption to such a bigoted concept.
By Chance?
It has also been argued that the story itself undermines the specific social markers of the actors in the narrative. The narrator’s comment that it was only “by chance” (kata sugkurian) that a priest went down the road from Jerusalem to Jericho (10.31) is reinforced by the narrator’s observation that a Levite (10.32) “likewise” (namely, “it was likewise by chance”) followed him. By the time one reaches the Samaritan in the story, a reader begins to wonder if these specific social markers are essential to make the story work. After all, three actors are tied together by a string of connectives (de in 10.31, 32, 33) that would seem to bring all three figures under the influence of the narrator’s “by chance.” Unless one disregards the phrase “by chance” as nonessential to the design of the story (which seems unlikely in such a brief narrative form known for omitting nonessential features), the phrase “by chance” tends to challenge any reading of the narrative that turns on the specific social markers in the story. The thrust of the phrase in 10.31 is that it really makes no difference who comes down the road. As long as the travelers act as the priest, Levite, and Samaritan in the story acted, the story works quite well.
Can the Story Work If the Wounded Traveler Is Anonymous?
If one ignores the specific social and ethnic codes (priest, Levite, and Samaritan) in the story, how might the story work then? It would work quite well against the backdrop of what it meant to be a “righteous human being” in ancient Israelite religious traditions. From the perspective of these ideals, if the priest and the Levite wanted to be regarded as righteous, they were required as Israelites to extend care to the wounded traveler beside the road. Their obligation to extend care as human beings took precedence over their obligations as priest and Levite (2 Kings 5.1–19 addresses the issue of ritual cleanness and defilement; Tobit 1.16–20 describes the burial of a discarded body). In short, in a Jewish context the second and third travelers stand condemned for their failure to act as righteous people were expected to act.
Even if a reader is unfamiliar with the behavior expected of the righteous in the Hebrew tradition, the priest and the Levite are still condemned by comparison to the excessive grace of the fourth traveler. From the perspective of such a reading, the anonymity of the first traveler takes on greater significance as a deliberate design of the narrative. It is easier for any reader to identify with the wounded traveler beside the road, because this figure lacks social markers of any sort. The first traveler was both nobody and anybody. From the first traveler’s perspective it did not really matter who the second, third, and fourth travelers were; what mattered was what they did.
Taking the anonymity of the first traveler seriously turns the narrative into a story about humane concern for a fellow human being of whatever nationality.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Bromiley, Geoffrey W. Theological Dictionary of the New Testament. Ten volumes. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1964. Volume 1:360–66. S.v. aner, anthropos.
Crossan, John Dominic. In Fragments. The Challenge of the Historical Jesus. New York/Hagerstown/San Francisco/London: Harper and Row, 1973.
Funk, Robert W. “The Good Samaritan as Metaphor.” In Parables and Presence. Forms of the New Testament Tradition, edited by Robert W. Funk. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1982, 29–34.
Hedrick, Charles W. Parables as Poetic Fictions. The Creative Voice of Jesus. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994.
Jungel, E. Paulus und Jesus. Eine Untersuchung zur Prazisierung der Frage nach dem Ursprung der Christologie. 3rd. ed. rev. Tubingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck), 1967.
Scott, Bernard Brandon. Hear Then the Parable. A Commentary on the Parables of Jesus. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1989.
Fiorenza, Elizabeth Schussler. In Memory of Her. A Feminist Theological Reconstruction of Christian Origins. New York: Crossroads, 1984 (particularly 41–67).
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