Sin, Pollution, and Samaritans

So here’s something that blew my little Sunday-school-trained mind* as an undergrad. Take the Good Samaritan story, Luke 10:25-37. The priest and the Levite see the man dying in a ditch and pass by on the other side; the Samaritan takes care of him. Who is the neighbor? The one who takes care of him. Great.

Fact number one: I didn’t know who the Samaritans were until I was 14 or 15.

Fact number two: I didn’t know who the Levites were until I was in college.

It’s not as though there was no explanation at all. I had some vague idea that the Samaritans were usually crooks and scoundrels. I’m pretty sure I thought that, since the priests were obviously the people in charge of the temple/religion, the Levites must be the people in charge of the government. (I mean, it makes sense, right?) At some point along the line I learned that the Samaritans were a competing religious group descended from the people who were left behind in Israel during the Babylonian Exile, whose center of worship was not Jerusalem but Mount Gerizim to the north, and that the Levites were (by this time) temple officiants and assistants to the priests. So that was some progress.

Then I hit the lecture on ritual purity and the difference between pollution and sin in my undergraduate Israelite Religion course. And, as I said, my mind was blown

There are lots of ways to become impure in ancient Israel. Some of them you can avoid; some of them you can’t. You can probably, for example, avoid picking up a dead lizard. If you’re lucky, you’ll avoid having mold grow in patches on the walls of your house—but that’s not really under your control. If you’re a woman, you can’t avoid menstruating. If you’re married, you can’t really avoid having sex. Some things you’re required to do: bury your parents, for example. Any of these things will make you unclean. That doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re sinful or wicked, or that it’s a bad thing to be a woman or to have just had sex or just moved that cow that died in your backyard—they just put you in a position where it’s dangerous to approach God, and so you have to perform the appropriate rituals before you can come to the temple. The priests and the Levites, who are closer to the divine presence in the temple and mediate between God and the people, must live up to accordingly more stringent standards while they’re doing their jobs. Some aspects of the sacrificial system have to do with ethical considerations, but some don’t, and it isn’t always clear on which is which. (It doesn’t help that prophets use the language of impurity as a metaphor to talk about the moral defilement of Israel.)

So, tearing ourselves with reluctance away from Leviticus and getting back to the New Testament: The point isn’t that the priest and the Levite were terrible, cold-hearted people who saw a dying man and said, “So long, sucker.” The man was on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho, no? Meaning—as I understand it—that they were probably on their way back to Jerusalem and back to service in the temple, and here’s this dead or dying guy on the road. If they help him, they’ll become impure—and then they’ll have to wait, and sacrifice, and so forth, and they decide that their role in the Temple is more important than their duty toward their fellows. The story’s still about helping people who need it, but it’s really a much more subtle thing. In prizing care for those in trouble over adherence to ritual norms, Luke’s Jesus is putting himself in the role of an Israelite prophet, and situating himself within a dialogue on the role of ritual and sacrifice in Israel’s relationship with God that goes back to some of the earliest Biblical texts.

*I’m not denigrating Sunday school as such. Much.

Advertisements

11 thoughts on “Sin, Pollution, and Samaritans

  1. You’re so right, Mary — in the Sunday School version we get a (simple, and good enough) moral lesson about caring for the sick and injured, while with your contextualization we get an expanded and much finer set of distinctions. Where the Levite could point to the Torah/ rule book and say, “I didn’t do anything wrong,” Jesus is suggesting that rules are not enough: Sometimes you need to wake up and follow the prompts of your heart. Once we understand who the characters are, we can see that the story is not so much a command to always care (i.e. another rule) but an encouragement to move beyond excuses and take responsibility for our own actions. The developmental psychologists would say he is showing us how to move forward in our moral reasoning; the Buddhists would say he is talking about skillful means. A good writing instructor would say he is teaching us to claim our own authentic voice. But we can’t pull any of that out of the teaching without scholars like you to fill in the background info!

    • Except the Torah *would* say the Levite did do something wrong; he violated pikuach nefesh, the law that saving human life trumps most any other law. With Mary’s (very awesome and much appreciated!) contextualization it reads to me as Jesus making a point of carrying pikuach nefesh into Christianity—not introducing a new idea so much as making sure we don’t drop an old (and, in the parable’s case, ignored) one.

      • Yeah, absolutely–it’s not proposing some huge new ideology, but rather affirming the existing tradition. Although I don’t know the pikuach nefesh, actually–where is it? I think this is so important especially as a counterbalance to some of the more mean-spirited Christian exegeses of this story: “See, Judaism is all about legalism at the expense of human well-being, but Jesus introduced this completely new idea–that caring for people is more important than the law–and so that’s why we’re better than Jews.” The call to human compassion is not new to Christianity. (It’s not new to Israelite religion, either–Akkadian royal inscriptions, definitely the Code of Hammurabi but I think going back much farther than that, boast of the king’s establishing justice and caring for widows and orphans, in very similar language to that found in the Bible.) Thanks for adding that–I knew vaguely that by the Rabbinic period there’s the law that saving human life is primary, but I didn’t know where it came from or the specifics!

          • There you go, thanks! I thought I’d read it in Sumerian somewhere. (Not Urukagina, but I think in the Lagash tablets somewhere.)

      • Haven’t you ever noticed how when people do horrible, terrible, heinous things, they always have rules and principles to cite that make them sound noble and justified? Jesus wasn’t addressing an institution or founding a religion, he was trying to wake us up.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s