In South Africa today we might equate the toll collectors/publicans with the MECs who think that driving a R1million Mercedes-Benz is appropriate in a country where so many people are poor and destitute (regardless of whether the MEC accepted the car as a gift and later had to return it as a result of public outcry, or whether the MEC negotiated a special deal for a rare model that was paid for by the department and later reported hijacked from the MEC’s driveway on the day her husband drove the car home from the dealership). Jesus would do well to have dinner with these MECs and engage them in conversations that would help them to understand how their behaviour could be different. Perhaps then the next ‘gift’ or ‘deal’ those MECs would negotiate, would benefit the poor!
We might also see the opposition political parties as the Pharisees when they are too quick to point accusing fingers and talk the ruling party and its members down, even going as far as making scathing personal attacks on particular individuals. While the ruling party may be making many mistakes and committing many injustices, having the opposition crowing about how unlike the corrupt ruling party they are doesn’t help to bring about justice. Jesus could explain to the opposition that justice must be done for justice’s sake (purely because it is the right thing to do), and not for the glorification of those who identified the injustices.
A possible parallel parable for The Good Samaritan in today’s world might be The Just Politician:
A powerful cabinet minister and known atheist (let’s call him Mr X) defies belief by helping a dispossessed stranger (let’s call him Mr J) who made a public show of voting for another party (video footage of which has been watched by millions on YouTube who couldn’t resist spending their boss’s time and bandwidth laughing at the tattooed Manenberg man’s outraged diatribe against Mr X and his ilk). So Mr X rights some serious wrongs by ensuring that Mr J gets the liveable housing and appropriate grant that he’s been waiting on for a decade. In the process Mr X angers his party bosses, forgoes the benefits and bribes offered him by other people wanting the house he gives to Mr J, and tries his level best to avoid the media who want to make a front-page story of his “antics”. When a 3rd Degree reporter finally traps Mr X getting off his bicycle outside his two-roomed Philippi house and demands to know what Mr X is playing at and what his dark ulterior motives are for this unthinkable behaviour, Mr X is abashed and embarrassed that he has generated so much interest and attention for simply doing his job. Mr X’s unassuming comment is “I just wanted to do the right thing for Mr J. And there are so many other people I also want to help! Sometimes it’s a bit overwhelming when I think about the ‘big picture’, but I keep doing what I can do, one day at a time. It would be wonderful if more people would also help, but even if nobody does, I’ll keep on!” Then Mr X politely asks the reporter not to step on the cabbages in his little front-step food garden, because they’re earmarked for tonight’s soup pot: the children in the houses next door are depending on something warm in their bellies before they go to sleep; he tells the reporter that he often hears the little ones praying “Dankie Here vir kos en klere” and he doesn’t mind providing these for them and letting them believe their God is taking care of them: religion is the opium of the masses, and as long as it keeps the kids away from the Tik dens he’s just glad they’re under the influence of the lesser of two evils.