The Parable of the Prodigal Son is easily the most famous story Jesus ever told. It has inspired paintings, novels, symphonies, and countless sermons. Yet for all its familiarity, we often miss its radical edge. We reduce it to a morality tale about a wayward child who says sorry and a softhearted dad who offers a second chance. But Luke 15:11–24 is far more disruptive than that. It is a story about the architecture of desire, the bankruptcy of self-exile, and a love that operates outside the economy of merit. **The Request That Kills** The parable opens not with departure, but with a demand: "Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me" (v. 12). In the first-century world, this was not merely impolite; it was violent. By asking for his inheritance while his father still lived, the younger son is effectively saying, "I wish you were dead." He wants the benefits of sonship without the relationship. He wants the assets, not the father. This is th...
The Parable of the Good Samaritan: Who Is My Neighbor?
Understanding the Parable
In Luke 10:30-37, Jesus tells a story that has become one of the most famous teachings in all of Scripture. A man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho is attacked by robbers who beat him, strip him, and leave him half-dead on the roadside. A priest comes along, sees the wounded man, but crosses to the other side of the road and passes by. Then a Levite—a temple assistant—does the same thing. Both religious leaders avoid the suffering man entirely.
Finally, a Samaritan comes along. This detail is crucial: Samaritans and Jews despised each other, separated by centuries of religious and ethnic hostility. Yet this Samaritan stops, feels compassion, and springs into action. He bandages the man's wounds, pours oil and wine on them, puts him on his own donkey, takes him to an inn, and pays for his care. He even promises to cover any additional expenses when he returns.
Jesus tells this story in response to a lawyer's question: "Who is my neighbor?" The answer turns out to be radical. Your neighbor isn't just the person who lives next door or shares your beliefs. Your neighbor is anyone in need—even your enemy.
A Deeper Reflection
This parable exposes how easily we create distance between ourselves and those who suffer. The priest and Levite had reasons to pass by—religious purity laws, safety concerns, busy schedules. We do the same today. We scroll past suffering on our screens. We avoid eye contact with the homeless. We rationalize why someone else should help.
The Samaritan shows us that genuine compassion isn't about feelings alone—it's about action. He didn't just feel bad for the wounded man; he disrupted his journey, spent his money, and made himself responsible for a stranger's recovery. Love, Jesus suggests, is inconvenient. It costs something.
Perhaps most challenging is that the hero of Jesus's story is the outsider, the one considered religiously and ethnically wrong by his audience. This parable dismantles our tendency to divide the world into "us" and "them." It asks: Are you willing to see the humanity in people you've been taught to dismiss? Are you willing to be helped by someone you think you're better than?
The question isn't "Who is my neighbor?" but rather "Am I willing to be a neighbor to anyone who needs me?"