Photo by Matt Collamer on Unsplash

I was sitting with some friends at a coffee shop when a man behind me asked the woman next to him, “Can you do me a favor?”

“Depends,” she replied, “on what kind of favor.”

“Can you call 911 for me?”

“Um, uh, I…” she stammered.

My companions and I all looked at each other. I waited a few seconds, but she didn’t respond further. I picked up my phone and told my friends, “I’ll make the call.”

As I turned around, I saw several faces, eyes all staring at the individual, their faces blank, mouths agape. Everyone seemed frozen, unsure of how to respond. I looked at the man, who seemed to be somewhat inebriated, and I asked him if he’d like to step outside with me, as I hoped to remove him from the staring faces.

We walked outside, and he told me his name, and that he was trying to get sober and needed help. Unfortunately, after dialing 911, the service that the county provides called the “Sober Van” was unavailable for our location, and he didn’t want an ambulance, so the dispatcher was unable to help. I asked the man if there was someone else I could call, but he shook his head. My friends helped look up other numbers, but as it was after hours, there were no services available. Soon after, the man left the coffee shop, and I prayed for him, that he would make it through the night, and receive the services he needed.

While I’m discouraged by the lack of services for those who need help, I’m more disheartened by the lack of response from my neighbors. I know that in times of crisis, anxiety rises naturally, and we have the “fight or flight” response. But I was dismayed by the number of people who tried to ignore the situation, all the people who seemed unable to do anything. Of all things to be asked for, to call 911 is a fairly easy request to fulfill. The dispatcher will handle everything if they are able to, and if not, you’ve done what was asked of you at the very least.

We read the parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10:29-37, and when Jesus asks the lawyer which of the three men was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers, the lawyer responds, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus tells him to “go and do likewise” (vs. 37, NRSV). However, I wonder how many of us are still like the lawyer, asking questions to figure out who our neighbors are.

I grew up in Alaska, the largest state with one of the smallest populations. It is still very possible to be driving on a road and not see another car for hours. There is an ethic of being a “Good Samaritan” because you might be the only person who can help. Early in our marriage, my husband and I, while driving in Alaska, witnessed a VW Rabbit cross the road in front of us, ride up a steep embankment and jump high into the air, careening out of control until it slammed into the ground and rolled several times. We pulled over; my husband leaping out of our truck to see if there were any survivors while I called 911.

The driver of the VW had fallen asleep—and amazingly enough, came away with only a few scratches. My husband helped him gather up his belongings, strewn about the ground near the demolished car, while I spoke with the state troopers, and eventually, the man’s wife, to let her know he was okay. While a few other people that afternoon slowed down and shouted, “You alright?” we were the only ones who remained until an officer arrived at the scene.

I’m sure there were other people in the coffee shop the night I was there who wanted to help, but didn’t know what to say or what to do. My upbringing in Alaska may have something to do with it, but the story of the Good Samaritan is core to who I am as a Christian: to be a neighbor, to show mercy, to anyone, regardless of who they are.

The story of the Good Samaritan is core to who I am as a Christian: to be a neighbor, to show mercy, to anyone, regardless of who they are.

Sometimes we have developed a different ethic, one where we decide first that we can’t really do anything, or we judge the other and make the decision we shouldn’t help. “Don’t give the panhandler money because they’ll just use it on booze,” is one I’ve heard many times. Even at church, I’ve heard, “Don’t give to the person asking for money because other people will start coming and asking for money, too.” When most of the people who ask for help need money, and most of the time we refuse that basic need, what are we doing to help people around us?

What if, when we read the Good Samaritan story, the person who was robbed was drunk? What if they were addicted to drugs? Would that have made a difference to how Jesus told the story? I don’t believe so. The Samaritan came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved to do something. He bandaged his wounds, took him to an inn, and cared for him, paying for his care until he was well. Most of the time, a stranger asking us for help isn’t asking for all that. They’re just asking for a little money to get them by the next meal. A little compassion to make a phone call that is terribly difficult to make. They’re asking, really, for us to see them as human beings, as the Samaritan saw the man beaten and left for dead on the side of the road, when the two religious people passed by and pretended not to see him.

This isn’t just a parable that Jesus taught to put the lawyer in his place. This is a story Jesus told that ought to still convict us today. For those of us who call ourselves Christians, we ought not to turn away from the voice that calls for help. We ought to remember that the neighbor is the one who showed mercy to the one in need, and that Jesus said, “Go and do likewise.”

This isn’t just a parable that Jesus taught to put the lawyer in his place. This is a story Jesus told that ought to still convict us today. For those of us who call ourselves Christians, we ought not to turn away from the voice that calls for help. We ought to remember that the neighbor is the one who showed mercy to the one in need, and that Jesus said, “Go and do likewise.”

The Rev. Mindi Welton-Mitchell is pastor of Queen Anne Baptist Church, Seattle, Wash., and ministry associate of social media for the Evergreen Association of American Baptist Churches USA.