John Calvin Commentary Luke 10:30

"Jesus made answer and said, A certain man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho; and he fell among robbers, who both stripped him and beat him, and departed, leaving him half dead." — Luke 10:30 (ASV)

And Jesus answering said. Christ might have stated simply that the word neighbor extends indiscriminately to every man, because the whole human race is united by a sacred bond of fellowship. Indeed, the Lord used this word in the Law for no other reason than to draw us sweetly to mutual kindness. The commandment would have run more clearly this way: Love every man as yourself.

But as men are blinded by their pride, so that every man is satisfied with himself, scarcely condescends to admit others to an equal rank, and withholds from them the duties he owes them, the Lord purposely declares that all are neighbors, so that the very relationship may produce mutual love. To make any person our neighbor, therefore, it is enough that he is a man, for it is not in our power to blot out our common nature.

But Christ intended to draw the reply from the Pharisee, so that he might condemn himself. Because of the generally accepted authoritative decision among them that no man is our neighbor unless he is our friend, if Christ had put a direct question to him, he would never have made an explicit acknowledgment that under the word neighbor all men are included—an acknowledgment which the comparison brought forward forces him to confess.

The general truth conveyed is that the greatest stranger is our neighbor, because God has bound all men together for the purpose of assisting each other. He alludes briefly, however, to the Jews, and especially to the priests. While they boasted of being the children of the same Father and of being separated by the privilege of adoption from the rest of the nations, so as to be God’s sacred heritage, yet, with barbarous and unfeeling contempt, they despised each other, as if no relationship had existed between them.

For there is no doubt that Christ describes the cruel neglect of brotherly kindness of which they knew they were guilty. But here, as I have said, the chief design is to show that the concept of neighborhood, which lays upon us an obligation to mutual acts of kindness, is not confined to friends or relatives, but extends to the whole human race.

To prove this, Christ compares a Samaritan to a priest and a Levite. It is well known what deadly hatred the Jews felt towards the Samaritans, so that, despite their living close beside them, they were always in strong opposition.

Christ now says that a Jew, an inhabitant of Jericho, on his journey from Jerusalem, having been wounded by robbers, received no assistance either from a Levite or from a priest—both of whom met him lying on the road and half-dead. Instead, a Samaritan showed him great kindness.

Christ then asks, Which of these three was neighbor to the Jew? This astute scholar could not avoid preferring the Samaritan to the other two. For here, as in a mirror, we see that common relationship of men, which the scribes endeavored to blot out by their wicked sophistry;⁷⁷ the compassion which an enemy showed to a Jew demonstrates that the guidance and teaching of nature are sufficient to show that man was created for the sake of man. From this, it is inferred that there is a mutual obligation between all men.

The allegory which is here contrived by the advocates of free will is too absurd to deserve refutation. According to them, under the figure of a wounded man is described the condition of Adam after the fall, from which they infer that the power of acting well was not wholly extinguished in him, because he is said to be only half-dead. As if it had been Christ's design in this passage to speak of the corruption of human nature, and to inquire whether the wound which Satan inflicted on Adam were deadly or curable! Or rather, as if he had not plainly, and without a figure, declared in another passage that all are dead, but those whom he quickens by his voice (John 5:25).

Another allegory, which has as little plausibility, has nevertheless been so pleasing that it has been accepted by almost universal consent, as if it were a revelation from heaven. In this view, they imagine this Samaritan to be Christ, because he is our guardian. They also tell us that wine was poured, along with oil, into the wound, because Christ cures us by repentance and by a promise of grace. They have devised a third subtlety: that Christ does not immediately restore health but sends us to the Church, as an innkeeper, to be gradually cured.

I admit that I do not like any of these interpretations; we ought to have a deeper reverence for Scripture than to consider ourselves free to distort its natural meaning. And, indeed, anyone can see that the curiosity of certain men has led them to devise these speculations, contrary to Christ's intention.

⁷⁷ “Par ur fausse glose et cavillation meschante;” — “by their false gloss and wicked sophistry.”;” — “by their false gloss and wicked sophistry.”