Samaritanism

Samaritanism is an Abrahamic monotheistic, ethnic religion. It comprises the collective spiritual, cultural, & legal traditions of the Samaritan people.

Often preferring to be called Israelite Samaritans, who originated from the Hebrews & Israelites. They began to emerge as a relatively distinct group after the Kingdom of Israel was conquered by the Neo-Assyrian Empire during the Iron Age. The Neo-Assyrian Empire was the 4th, & penultimate, stage of ancient Assyrian history.

Central to their continuity as an Indigenous Heritage in the Holy Land is keeping the Patriarchal & Mosaic covenant as specified in the Samaritan Torah. Samaritans believe this is the original & unchanged version of the Pentateuch (which is the first 5 books of the Hebrew & Christian bible) since Moses & the Israelites at Mount Sinai.

The Abisha Scroll is traditionally held by the community to be the oldest existing scroll written by Abisha, son of Aaron the priest, around 3,000 years ago based on living tradition. However, Jewish & Christian theologians have made attempts to dispute this claim which proved unsatisfactory.

Judaism claims Samaritanism developed right alongside their own religion. Samaritanism asserts itself as the true preserved form of the monotheistic faith that the Israelites kept under Moses. Samaritan belief also holds that the Israelites’ original holy site was Mount Gerizim, near Nablus, the State of Palestine (West Bank).

They also believe that Jerusalem only attained importance under Israelite dissenters who had followed Eli (In the Book of Samuel, Eli was a priest & judge of the Israelites in the city of Shiloh) to the city of Shiloh.

The Israelites who remained at Mount Gerizim would become the Samaritans in the Kingdom of Judah. Mount Gerizim is revered by Samaritans as the location where the Binding of Isaac occurred. In comparison to the Jewish belief that it occurred at Jerusalem’s Temple Mount.

Today there are only about 900 registered communal members. This puts Samaritanism as 1 of the smallest ethnoreligious groups globally in the Abrahamic faiths. Samaritans believe that this is a prophecy fulfilled from the scriptures: “You’ll be left few in number.”

Though they hope for a future time when a prophet like Moses known as the “Taheb” (Restorer) will perform 3 signs, namely the jar of manna, the staff of Moses, & Cherubim, or the Golden Candlestick.

This time period they believe is when an era of Divine Favor would return, & the hidden tabernacle of Moses would miraculously be revealed for the Israelite people & Mount Gerizim is restored to its former glory.

Samaritans trace their history, as a separate entity, to a period soon after the Israelites’ arrival into the “Promised Land.” Samaritan historiography traces the schism to High Priest Eli leaving Mount Gerizim, where stood the 1st Israelite altar in Canaan, & building a competing altar in nearby Shiloh.

The dissenting group of Israelites who followed Eli to Shiloh would be the ones who, in later years, would head south to settle in Jerusalem (the Jews). Whereas the Israelites who stayed on Mount Gerizim, in Samaria, would become known as the Samaritans.

Genetic studies in 2004 suggest that Samaritans’ lineages trace back to a common ancestor with Jews in the paternally-inherited Jewish high priesthood (Cohanim) temporally near to the period of the Assyrian conquest of the Kingdom of Israel. They’re probably descendants of the historical Israelite population. The Cohanim refers to the Jewish priestly class, male descendants of Aaron the priest.

The Hasmonean king, John Hyrcanus, destroyed the Mount Gerizim Temple & brought Samaria under his control around 120 BCE. This led to a long-lasting sense of mutual hostility between the Jews & Samaritans.

From this point, the Samaritans likely sought to consciously distance themselves from their Judean brethren. Both peoples came to see the Samaritan faith as a religion distinct from Judaism. By the time of Jesus, Samaritans & Jews deeply disparaged one another, as shown by Jesus’ Parable of the Good Samaritan.

The main beliefs of Samaritanism are:

• There’s 1 God, Yahweh, the same God recognized by the Jewish prophets.
• The Torah is the only true holy book & was given by God to Moses. The Torah was created before the creation of the world & whoever believes in it is assured a part in the world to come. The Torah’s status in Samaritanism as the only holy book causes them to reject the Oral Torah, the Talmud, & all the prophets & scriptures, except for a version of the Book of Joshua (which they don’t hold as Scripture), whose book in the Samaritan community is significantly different from the Book of Joshua in the Jewish “Bible.” Moses is considered to be the last of the line of prophets.
• Mount Gerizim, not Jerusalem, is the 1 true sanctuary chosen by God. The Samaritans don’t recognize the sanctity of Jerusalem & don’t recognize the Temple Mount, claiming instead that Mount Gerizim was the place where the Binding of Isaac took place.
• The Apocalypse, called “the day of vengeance,” will be the end of days. When an entity called the Taheb (basically the Jewish Messiah equal) that comes from the tribe of Joseph will come, be a prophet like Moses for 40 years & bring about the return of all the Israelites, following which the dead will be resurrected. The Tahib will then discover the tent of Moses’ Tabernacle on Mount Gerizim, & will be buried next to Joseph when he dies.

The Samaritans have retained the institution of a high priesthood & the practice of slaughtering & eating lambs on Passover Eve. They celebrated Pesach, Shavuot, & Sukkot. But they use a different method from that used in mainstream Judaism in order to determine the dates annually.

For example, Yom Teru’ah (the biblical name for Rosh Hashanah), at the beginning of Tishrei (This is the 1st month of the civil year & the 7th month of the ecclesiastical year in the Hebrew calendar.), isn’t considered a New Year as it is in Rabbinic Judaism.

Their Sabbath is observed weekly by the Samaritan community every week from Friday to Saturday, beginning & ending at sundown. For 24 hours, the families gather together to celebrate the rest day: all electricity with the exception of minimal lighting (kept on the entire day) in the house is disconnected, no work is done, & neither cooking nor driving is allowed.

The time is devoted to worship which consists of 7 prayer services, reading the weekly Torah portion, spending quality time with family, taking meals, rest & sleep, & visiting other members of the community.

Passover is particularly important in the Samaritan community, climaxing with the sacrifice of up to 40 sheep.

The Counting of the Omar remains relatively unchanged. The Counting of the Omar is a ritual in Judaism that consists of a verbal counting of each of the 49 days between the holidays of Passover & Shavuot. However, the week before Shavuot is a unique festival celebrating the continued commitment Samaritanism has maintained since the time of Moses.

During Sukkot, the Sukkah (the temporary hut built for use during Sukkot) is built INSIDE of houses, instead of OUTSIDE like mainstream Judaism. This Samaritan tradition is traced back to the persecution of the Samaritans during the Byzantine Empire.

The roof of the Samaritan Sukkah is decorated with citrus fruits & branches of palm, myrtle, & willow trees. This is in accordance with the Samaritan interpretation of the 4 species designated in the Torah for the holiday. The 4 species are 4 plants (the etrog, lulav, hadass, & aravah) mentioned in the Torah as being relevant to the Jewish holiday of Sukkot.

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The Forgotten Man: A Parable for a New Generation

1,703 words, 9 minutes read time.

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I had been walking down that same road for years. The same dusty, sun-scorched path that split the barren landscape between my home and the bustling marketplace. In a way, it had become my lifeline—familiar and predictable. I had learned to hate the road, but I also depended on it. It was a place of isolation, a place where my thoughts could be my only company, where I could let my mind wander and get lost in the monotony of daily life.

There were many things I had forgotten over the years: the face of my father, the laughter of my childhood, the warmth of a friendship that had been long extinguished. What I hadn’t forgotten, though, was the road. And one fateful day, I was left to walk it alone.

It started with a quiet whisper in my ear, an enticing invitation to venture out a little further, to see something beyond the ordinary. You see, I had always been a man driven by ambition, by the need for recognition, and by the belief that I deserved more than what my small world had to offer. I had a good life, by many standards—safety, security, and a reputation that made people respect me—but it never felt like enough. There was a hunger in me that was always unsatisfied, a thirst for something more, something greater.

It was this ambition, this longing for more, that led me down the path that would eventually change my life forever.

One day, a wealthy merchant had come to town, and I had heard rumors of the treasures he carried. My instincts told me that if I could make an impression on this man, I could secure my future, maybe even gain the riches I had always dreamed of. But it wasn’t just about the money—it was about the power, the prestige. It was the chance to prove I was better, that I deserved something more than what I had been given.

So, I began planning. I knew that the road to the merchant’s camp was treacherous, but my pride told me that I could navigate it alone. I was no stranger to hardship. In my mind, I was untouchable, invincible even. Nothing could stand in my way. It was my choices, my will, that would determine my fate. I had walked the road countless times before and had survived every challenge. But this time would be different.

I set out early in the morning, my mind filled with the promise of something greater, something beyond my wildest imagination. As the hours passed, I grew increasingly aware of the isolation around me. The silence of the barren hills, the dust in the air, the weight of the sun pressing down upon my skin. But still, I pressed on.

And then, it happened.

A group of bandits emerged from the shadows of the rocks. They surrounded me with the swiftness of predators, their faces masked, their weapons drawn. I tried to fight back, but I was outnumbered. It didn’t take long before I found myself lying on the ground, my body bruised and bloodied. My possessions were taken, my dignity stripped away, and I was left there, half-conscious, alone on the side of the road.

In that moment, I thought to myself, “How could this have happened? How could I have been so careless?” But deep down, I knew the answer. It was my pride, my arrogance, that had brought me here. It was my own choices, my own desire for more, that had led me to this place of ruin. And as the hours passed, the pain only grew worse, the realization of my foolishness sinking deeper into my bones.

I was not the only one who passed by that day. There were others—people I had once called friends, people I had respected. The first was a priest, a man of God. He saw me lying there, wounded and broken, but he kept walking. I remember the look on his face—indifference mixed with a touch of superiority. In his eyes, I was nothing more than a nuisance, a distraction from his holy duties. He passed me by without a second thought.

Next came a Levite, a man of the law, someone who had always been quick to uphold tradition and righteousness. He saw me too, but his response was no different from the priest’s. He crossed to the other side of the road, avoiding me with the same cold detachment. It wasn’t that he didn’t see me; it was that he didn’t care.

But then, something unexpected happened.

A man appeared from the distance. He was a Samaritan—a man from a group that my people had long despised. The Jews and the Samaritans had been at odds for generations, locked in a bitter rivalry that went back centuries. Yet, as this Samaritan approached, something in his eyes told me that he was different.

He didn’t hesitate. He knelt down beside me, his hands gentle as they touched my wounds. I tried to speak, to thank him, but my voice was weak. He didn’t need my gratitude. Instead, he lifted me up, carefully and without judgment, as if I was a brother he had never met before.

The Samaritan didn’t just stop to offer a word of sympathy; he took action. He used his own supplies to bandage my wounds and then helped me onto his donkey. The journey to the nearest inn was slow and painful, but he stayed by my side, never once complaining, never once turning away.

At the inn, he paid for my care, ensuring that I would be well-treated until I had recovered. And before he left, he told the innkeeper that if the cost of my stay exceeded what he had already given, he would cover it. “Take care of him,” he said. “Whatever it costs, I will pay.”

I had been left for dead by those who were supposed to help me—by those who considered themselves righteous, by those who believed they were above the likes of me. But the one person I least expected to show mercy was the one who did.

Then Jesus.

It was in that moment that everything changed for me. The story of the Good Samaritan became more than just words. It was my story. I had once been like the priest, like the Levite, judging others from a distance, thinking that my position in society gave me the right to look down on those who were less fortunate. But in my hour of need, I was shown mercy by the one I had been taught to despise. It was as if God Himself had reached down and pulled me out of the pit I had dug for myself.

I realized that my choices had led me to this place. It wasn’t fate or bad luck. It was my pride, my refusal to see the humanity in others, my selfish desire for more. And now, I had been given a second chance. The Samaritan didn’t owe me anything, yet he gave me everything.

The moral of the story isn’t just about helping those in need. It’s about understanding that we all have a choice—to be like the priest, to be like the Levite, or to be like the Samaritan. We can choose to turn away, to ignore the suffering of others, or we can choose to step into the mess, to offer mercy where it is least expected.

In that moment, I understood what it truly meant to love my neighbor. It wasn’t about who was worthy of my help. It wasn’t about whether or not they fit into my social circle, my ideology, or my expectations. It was about showing kindness, compassion, and mercy to those who need it the most—without conditions, without judgment.

And so, I was left with a choice. I could continue down the road of self-righteousness, clinging to my pride and my ambition. Or I could choose to live differently, to be a neighbor to those who were suffering, to show the same mercy that had been shown to me.

I chose the latter. And though I may never fully repay the Samaritan for his kindness, I have vowed to be a good neighbor to others, just as he was to me. I can only hope that my actions, however small, might one day make a difference in someone else’s life—just as the Samaritan’s actions changed mine.

Now, I see the road differently. It’s no longer a place of isolation and pride, but a reminder of the choices I make and the impact they have on the world around me. And every time I walk it, I remember that no one is beyond mercy, and that love has the power to transform even the most broken of lives.

And so, my story continues—not as one of ambition and pride, but as one of grace, humility, and the redemptive power of compassion. I hope it’s a story worth sharing, not just for me, but for all of us.

D. Bryan King

Sources

• What is the meaning of the Parable of the Good Samaritan?
• Are We Missing the Primary Meaning of the Good Samaritan Story?
• The Good Samaritan Sermon – Luke 10:27-35
• Commentary on Luke 10:25-42 – Good Samaritan – Working Preacher
• Rereading the Parable of the Good Samaritan
• Jesus, Our Good Samaritan: My Sermon on Luke 10:25-37
• Enduring Word Bible Commentary Luke Chapter 10
• Modern Good Samaritan parable. Luke 10:25–37 – The Policy
• The Parable of the Good Samaritan | Preaching Today
• The Parable of the Good Samaritan: On Love | Redeemer Church
• Understanding the Good Samaritan Parable – Biblical Archaeology
• The Parable of the Good Samaritan, a Sermon from R.C. Sproul
• The Parables Of Jesus – The Good Samaritan (Lk 10:25-37)
• 4 Lessons from the Parable of the Good Samaritan
• A modern parable of the good Samaritan?

Disclaimer:

The views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the author. The information provided is based on personal research, experience, and understanding of the subject matter at the time of writing. Readers should consult relevant experts or authorities for specific guidance related to their unique situations.

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"In listening to conservative fans of Rittenhouse, Perry and Penny, you would never know that there were actual people on the other side of these confrontations.”

#JamelleBouie #VigilanteViolence #ParableOfTheGoodSamaritan

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/05/16/opinion/neely-penny-perry-rittenhouse-desantis.html