Sermon – The Good Samaritan
Sermon Preached by Reverend Tracey Gracey on Sunday, 13 June, 2025
Luke 10:25-37
This morning, I would like to introduce you to the cast members of one of the most familiar parables in the Bible — the Parable of the Good Samaritan.
As you are introduced to each role, I invite you to think about:
Which cast member do you usually play?
Which cast member would you like to play?
And which role is Jesus inviting us to take on?
First up in the cast, we meet Cast member No. 1 –
The Lawyer: the one with the script in hand.
This character is not a courtroom lawyer, but a religious expert.
He’s not necessarily hostile — he’s doing what rabbis and teachers often did: engaging in holy debate. He sees Jesus as his equal.
And asks:
“What must I do to inherit eternal life?”
This question is rooted in “Do-to-get theology”, which is the idea that our actions earn us God’s favour or blessings.
If I do the right things (pray, obey, serve, give, behave well), then I’ll get eternal life.
The lawyer assumes he needs to perform in order to receive — he thinks life with God is a reward for good religious behaviour.
This is what Jesus gently challenges in the story of The Good Samaritan.
Next in our cast line-up: the Priest and the Levite —
the walk-on roles who walk on by.
These two come with holy status. The priest, in his robes, and the Levite, with his temple scrolls.
Both see the wounded man, and both pass by on the other side.
Why?
Maybe they feared impurity. Maybe they were late for an important worship service.
Maybe they were just numb.
We don’t know. But we know their part in the drama:
They saw and chose not to act.
They are the “respectable” cast members who somehow miss the heart of God.
Now enters our surprise casting choice.
The Samaritan — The Most Unlikely Hero
A cultural enemy. Outsider. Unwelcome in the temple.
But it’s he who sees.
He is moved with compassion — not just a feeling, but a gut-wrenching, heart-pulling ache.
The Greek word that is used is Splag-ch-níz-o-mai, which means:
“Inward parts” — the guts, intestines, bowels. “To be moved in your guts” or “to feel deep compassion from your innermost being”
In ancient Greek culture (and in Jewish culture as well), the bowels were believed to be the seat of deep emotions, particularly compassion, mercy, and love.
Splag-ch-níz-o-mai is more than pity. It’s more than sympathy. It’s an emotional, instinctive reaction — a love that moves you into action.
This is how the Samaritan reacts. How he shows care and why he gives — oil, wine, bandages, donkey, time, money.
This cast member doesn’t just perform a good deed — he breaks all the rules to love someone his community is supposed to avoid.
And now, the role that’s often overlooked —
The Man in the Ditch: The forgotten lead.
For he is the cast member we usually skip over:
He has no lines. No name. No stage directions, except to be broken.
Stripped, beaten, half-dead. We know nothing about him, except that he needs help.
And finally, the quiet yet essential role:
The Innkeeper — The supporting act who holds the story.
Not flashy. Not famous. But entrusted with care.
Given resources. Asked to continue the healing.
Now that we’ve met the whole cast…
Which part do you usually play?
Is it the lawyer, trying to find the limits of love?
Or the priest or Levite — too busy, too cautious, too numb?
Maybe it’s the Samaritan — moved by compassion to act.
Or the innkeeper, quietly continuing care with the resources you’ve been given.
Or… are you the man in the ditch — broken, vulnerable, in need of help?
Which part would you like to play?
We often wish we could be the Samaritan — the hero.
But maybe we need to recognise that we’re not always the ones who has the answers. Sometimes, we’re just the ones who need kindness and care.
And which role is Jesus inviting you to play?
Perhaps the answer is: “All of them — at different times.”
• Sometimes we are the lawyer, needing to unlearn old frameworks.
• Sometimes we are the passerby, and we need to stop.
• Sometimes we are the Samaritan, called to love with courage and compassion.
• Sometimes we are the innkeeper, asked to continue someone else’s ministry of care.
• And sometimes we are the man in the ditch, receiving love and care when we least expect it.
You might think the casting is complete, but there is actually one other cast member in this scene we often overlook — and that is Jesus — our companion on the journey who helps us make sense of all the other roles.
In Luke 9:51, Jesus “sets his face to go to Jerusalem.”
He wasn’t just heading to a city —
He was heading toward the cross.
And Jesus tells this parable on the way.
And on this road, Jesus lives this story:
He is the Good Samaritan —
Moved with splag-ch-níz-o-mai — gut-level compassion —
He stops, he helps, he gives everything.
But he’s also the man in the ditch —
Wounded, rejected, left for dead by the world.
He is the one who suffers and the one who saves.
And he becomes our companion.
Whether we are:
The lawyer, caught in do-to-get thinking.
The Levite or priest, keeping our distance.
The Samaritan, moved by compassion.
The innkeeper, continuing the quiet work of healing.
The man in the ditch, needing healing and care —
Jesus becomes our companion who teaches us how to “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, strength and mind and to love your neighbour as yourself.”
So, whatever the casting, and wherever we are on the road, let us continue to journey with Jesus —the one who holds the script, the stage, and our story — and go and do likewise.
Amen