In his homily (of which I had the pleasure to hear two versions), a portion that resonated with me is that this parable is about being open to the idea of helping and prepared to offer that help. This means that being a “Good Samaritan” requires more than just thinking about helping one’s neighbor (or even one’s enemy). Rather, we need to be open to changes in our lives that such help might require. This might mean changing plans that we thought were otherwise inescapable.
It also means opening ourselves to the possibility of being hurt. Certainly, the priest and the Levite who ignored the injured man had other plans that they did not want to change, but they were also likely afraid that the injured man could have been some sort of trap—or at least was an indication that the road they were on was not safe. The Samaritan (being an enemy) would have even more reason to fear helping the traveler. I’m not saying that there are not traps and scams out there; of course, we need to be cautious, but that fear should not be the deciding factor in our unwillingness to help. Without us being willing to help one another, the damage the robbers cause is perhaps even fatal to those they attack.
This brings me back to the Kingpin. He ends the recounting of his version of the story by saying that he had deceived himself into believing that he was the Samaritan. When asked what he means, he clarifies to say that he was not the Samaritan, nor the priest, nor even the Levite. Instead, he was the “ill intent who set upon the traveler on a road that he should not have been on.” In regard to today’s reading, I thus reflected on the times when I, too, was the ill intent rather than the helpful Samaritan—the times when I was determined to “rob” the dignity of those whose ideas or beliefs with which I disagreed.
I need to work not only on being the Good Samaritan in my dealings with my neighbors, but to avoid becoming like Kingpin in some misguided notion that through punishment I can bring about the world that I want.