The Posture of a Good Samaritan
You seem like a nice guy, but would you stop on the side of the road?
We’ve all heard the parable of the Good Samaritan since we were children.
Recounted in the Gospel of Luke, Jesus spins the tale of the world’s first instance of drive-by violence. A man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho encounters robbers who leave him stripped, beaten and nearly dead on the side of the road.
A priest and a Levite pass him by without bothering to help, and in one of Jesus’ M. Night Shyamalan-worthy twist endings, it is a Samaritan (despised by the Jews) who actually stops to help the man.
I remember hearing this parable in religion class and scorning the hypocritical priest and uncaring Levite who failed to act when someone so desperately needed help. It was obvious to me that we should all act like the Samaritan, extending mercy and being a “good neighbor” to anyone who needs it. From that day forth, the Good Samaritan became the pat answer to so many religion class questions about kindness and living out your faith.
But I’m not so sure the lesson stuck. Sure, I’m a decent enough guy. I know right from wrong. I sometimes round-up for charities at checkout. I often do favors for people or pick up slack to help others.
But when the proverbial fecal matter hits the proverbial fan, I think I can often be found lounging in the Levite camp more often than sacrificing in the Samaritan camp.
Last week, I was driving home from work on the interstate, settling my mind to transition from Work Mode to Dad Mode and listening to my favorite new podcast, when something crazy happened.
I watched as the hood of the car in front of me somehow unlatched and flew up to completely block the view of the driver. The driver immediately slammed on the brakes—remember, we’re all going about 65 mph—and I slammed on my brakes, cautiously checking my rearview mirror to see how close the car behind me was getting as that driver also slammed on the brakes. Visions of being sandwiched between two cars danced in my head as I continued to slow down and the car in front of me drew ever nearer. I glanced in my side mirrors to see if I could swerve to another lane to avoid a potential pileup, but there were cars on all sides of me.
By the grace of God, all three of us slowed down to a crawl without colliding, and the car in front of me put on its blinkers and began its blind transition to the shoulder. With my heart thumping, I began to breathe again as the car safely made it to the side of the road. What a close call!
I then noticed that the car behind me put its blinkers on and made its way over to the shoulder as well. I wondered if perhaps I had been spared, but cars behind me had rammed into each other.
But I soon realized that the car behind me was being driven by the Good Samaritan, and he was pulling over to check on the person in front of me who was no doubt spooked by the suddenly opening car hood.
The thought of stopping never even crossed my mind.
I sat in sheer relief at the safety of my car and my ultimately unimpeded commute, then drove on with a crazy traffic story to tell.
Now you might be reading this and thinking, “Cut yourself some slack! It was a scary situation, but thankfully everyone was OK and they probably secured their hood and carried on. You didn’t need to stop. It’s not the same thing as the Good Samaritan.”
To that I say, “Get behind me, Levite!”
While no one was in need of immediate medical attention (as far as I know), the larger issue is my concern only for myself and my own safety. Even if I don’t stop in that particular situation, I would still like to be the kind of person who would stop or would at least think of stopping.
We live in a world where it is increasingly easy to breeze by our “neighbors” who are in need of help that we could easily provide or provide with minimal disruption to our lives. Think of how often you encounter pain or tragedy on something as trivial as social media. Do you make a donation to the charity? Do you send your friend a message in their time of distress? At a minimum, do you even click to offer a “support” reaction when someone posts something devastating?
The parable is calling us to do so much more than any of that! Look at what the Good Samaritan actually did:
He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’ (Luke 34-35)
The equivalent in my situation would be if I pulled over, called a tow truck, and paid for the driver’s new hood fastener. “And by the way, fix that dent in the door while you’re at it. My treat.”
Jesus is calling us to that level of radical, joyful kindness. I’m sure you’ve experienced it. It’s that moment where you can’t believe that your fellow human is offering you something that makes such a huge difference to you at that moment and seems like it would be a huge inconvenience or sacrifice for them (and perhaps it is).
It’s difficult to receive that kind of kindness, but it’s almost impossible to actually offer that kind of kindness. It takes a selflessness that our culture does not reward or encourage. It takes an outlook of abundance over scarcity and a willingness to view your own wealth (of time, talent, treasure, whatever) as a kind of poverty until it is shared.
We have all that we have because God gave it to us—even if what we have is not much. And all of it was given to us so that we might share it with those who don’t have it and need it, not so that we could horde it for ourselves and our own comfort, pleased with what we think we have acquired on our own merits and content to settle into our abundance.
There is an examination of conscience to be done here.
How do I store up my actual wealth and to what end? Do I give to charities? Do I tithe?
How do I store up my physical possessions? Do I really need all the clothes that I own? Are there things I could donate and other things I don’t really need to buy?
How do I store up my time? Do I volunteer? Do I spend intentional time with people who would benefit from my attention?
In answering all of these questions, do I do these things in any measure that actually requires something of me? Or am I simply doing the bare minimum to "be a good example” for my kids or to check the box that allows me to label myself as a “good person?”
How can I take a radical approach to kindness? How can I joyfully sacrifice in these ways?
It’s almost comical that these Samaritan thoughts would occur to me because I watched someone literally going to help someone else on the side of the road.
But there are plenty of roads in my life and plenty of folks on the sides of them.
If I just keep driving, I know I’m not going in the right direction.