Compassionate Justice: An Interdisciplinary Dialogue with Two Gospel Parables on Law, Crime, and Restorative Justice by Christopher D. Marshall (review)

Christopher Marshall is known to Society of Christian Ethics members for his highly acclaimed book on restorative justice, Beyond Retribution, and for his plenary address at the SCE annual meeting published in the JSCE 27, no. 2 (2007). The plenary address forms one chapter of the present Compassionate Justice. Well informed on ethics, criminal justice, and human rights, Marshall is a New Testament scholar at Victoria University in New Zealand.

Marshall points out that the two best-known of Jesus’s parables—the Compassionate Samaritan, and the Prodigal Son—have been the most influential of Jesus’s parables in Western culture and legal theory. The Compassionate Samaritan is Jesus’s response to a lawyer’s question that answers a central legal question of the time: Who is my neighbor, whom I am obligated by Leviticus 19:7 to love as myself? In the Prodigal Son, the three main characters in legal offense are clearly portrayed as the offender, the victim, and the law-abiding community; in turn, as Marshall points out, “the older brother’s reaction centers directly on the justice of his father’s actions” (192–93). Marshall argues that present legal theory can learn from careful dialogue with these two parables. These parables are not only historically influential but also so insightfully and beautifully crafted that dialogue with them can bring incisive insights. In addition, dialogue with them presses Anglo-Saxon liberalism where it is weak and needs to grow.

The parable of the Compassionate Samaritan opens up questions about the need for Good Samaritan laws that defend persons who come to the aid of a person in danger of death (e.g., from an accident, fire, or drowning) against liability for inadvertently and unintentionally causing damage. Under present Anglo-Saxon law, such good Samaritans can be sued for damages. This is not the case, however, in most European countries. Similarly, most European and Latin American countries have bad Samaritan laws: Where “victims are in mortal danger and unable to save themselves,” there is a legal duty for “those who are consciously aware of the victim’s predicament, who are close enough to intervene, and who have the effective means of intervention available to them” to come to the aid of the victims. “The most glaring exception to this pattern,” Marshall argues, “occurs in Anglo-American legal systems” because of liberalism’s maximization of individual liberty even against coercion to come to the aid of persons who would die if no help arrives (155). Samaritan laws “give formal expression to the supreme value of human life, to the bonds of solidarity and empathy that comprise human identity and that bind people together in social community, and to ongoing need human beings have to be committed to one another’s rescue and restoration when severe harm befalls them” (174).

Responding to the parable of the Prodigal Son, Marshall argues that both compassion and repentance are crucial for understanding the humanity and the sufferings of persons being defended or judged by law. This does not replace the standard tools of legal interpretation; it takes account of the more holistic context (288–90). In fact, “unreflective compassion can be dangerous and distorting” (296). Marshall discusses the complications insightfully and in a balanced way. He concludes with an extensive discussion and refutation of perhaps the most important book-length criticism of restorative justice.

Marshall’s interpretation of these two parables surpasses any other that I have read. His sensitive and thoughtful analysis of the experience of victimization goes beyond any other interpretation of the Compassionate Samaritan that I have seen. In this he resembles Daniel Philpott’s interpretation of victimization in Just and Unjust Peace (Oxford University Press, 2012). His description of the shameful rupture of relationship with father, family, and community by the prodigal son goes well beyond what I have seen previously. I think...