The failed Samaritan
Photograph by Matt Collamer via Unsplash
Rev. John Zehring
Something happened years ago that still haunts me. It occurred in a church I served. It was one of those weeks where I had worked three fifteen-hour days in a row. I was coming out of church after a board meeting, about 9 p.m., I was tired and ready to go home, knowing I still had another hour of work to do.
I was the last one out of church. I turned out the lights, got in my car, pulled away, and drove past the back portico where something unusual caught my eye. A bicycle was fallen over and next to it was a clump of something. My mind told me to back up to inspect it. My weariness told me to drive on home. But I knew I had to check. It did not belong there. It turned out to be a pile of person. Now, you do not just fall off a bicycle at night behind a church, so my memory banks whirled through the possibilities. Could be drunk. Could be dead. Maybe homeless. My mind is like Windows on the computer.
Window #1 was self-preservation: could this guy be dangerous? Might he have a gun? A knife? If he was high on drugs and felt startled, could I be in danger?
If I were Black, Hispanic, undocumented, or vulnerable in any other way, self-preservation alarms would ring as I considered my own interaction with the police. About the time this happened, the ACLU reported that the police department in the town where my church was located arrested Black residents at 9.1 times the rate of non-Black residents. In the state of Rhode Island at that time, Black residents were incarcerated at 9.6 times the rate of white residents, and Hispanic residents at 3.3 times the rate. In Maryland, a Black Good Samaritan attempted to help a drunk man he found unconscious on the ground and the Good Samaritan ended up arrested. In Houston, a Black ex-cop tried to stop a drunken driver and police arrested the Good Samaritan instead. In Washington state, an undocumented father-of-three called police for help to report a trespasser and was then “hand-delivered” by the police into the custody of ICE. People of color have reason to consider that the risk they face might be even higher when confronted with the opportunity to be a Good Samaritan.
Window #2 was playing out the parable of the Good Samaritan. Jesus, did your story have to fit this so well? In the story, the priest and the Levite passed by on the other side. Both were professional religious clergy types. This hit me right between the eyes: I am the priest and the Levite, and I really would like to just pass by and go home.
Window #3: I cannot tell if this is common sense or rationalization... In this window I am thinking, they did not have cell phones in Jesus’ day, but I do. They did not have a modern police force trained in how to help people in trouble. They did not have homeless shelters. We had a nearby shelter, which the church supported generously with money, food, and hands to prepare meals and to shelter the homeless.
In the parable of the Good Samaritan, Jesus redefined the meaning of “neighbor” as the one who showed compassion. Then he added “Go and do likewise.” Of all Jesus’ parables, this is the only one where he added that phrase.
The Samaritan dismounted his camel, went down to the man on the ground, checked him, got his hands dirty and he escorted the man to a safe place, where the man in need could get cleaned, fed, and made whole. I sat in my car, cell phone in hand, and could not figure out what to do. The crazy thing about it was that I had control over a generous Pastor’s Samaritan Fund, given by church members to help local people in need. I had resources to help... and I did not know what to do, or how to help.
So, I called the police and then waited. Two cars arrived within five minutes. Flashlight in hand, the police officer went over, illuminated the area, and gently woke the man up. He jumped up to his feet, greeted the officer, put out both hands, and pledged his fullest cooperation – so smoothly that it seemed like he had experience at this.
Was he drunk? No, No, No... well, yes.
Where did he live? He could not remember. Next town over, he thought.
Had he been in jail? Yes. Last week. What for? “Domestic,” he answered in one word. He made it sound innocent. Domestic abuse is one of the worst crimes in our civilization and includes hitting, torture, stalking, psychological meanness, emotional abuse, and even murder.
The police were polite, gentle, even compassionate. I was impressed. They knew what to ask, what to do. They searched – he had no weapons. Then they put him in the back of their car, and I drove home.
I do not know what I should have done, but it sure feels like I failed the Good Samaritan test. Perhaps you have experienced similar occasions of coming across someone in need and not knowing what to do. So, consider again the Parable of the Good Samaritan to see if it can shed any light on how we are supposed to respond when we come across someone in need.
The story began with a question from a religious leader: “And who is my neighbor?”
The priest and the Levite passed by the man in need. Perhaps they were on their way to do good elsewhere. Their priestly duties to many people were important. Which responsibility is higher? Or perhaps they were afraid it was a trap, to rob them, and they were concerned for their safety, perhaps with good reason. Helping someone, then and today, even in a church parking lot, can involve taking a risk.
I used to have this notion that the Samaritan must have been a wealthy land baron who had nothing but time on his hands and money gushing out of his pockets... so he had time and resources to stop and help. But maybe he was just as exhausted as I was that night and wanted nothing more than to go home to put up his feet after a long tiring day.
“Who is my neighbor?” Neighbor is “the one who showed mercy,” said Jesus.
Maybe that is the redeeming mark of a great parable: it haunts us, it will not let go of us, it causes us to think and it makes us question – how does this apply to me and to you?
Now, here is the heartbeat of the story: “But a Samaritan while traveling came upon him, and when he saw him he was moved with compassion. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, treating them with oil and wine. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him, and when I come back I will repay you whatever more you spend.’” (Luke 10:33-35)
This cost the Samaritan time and inconvenience, it cost him personal involvement, and it cost him money. Is not that where we sometimes draw the line at helping strangers, if it costs money? It cost him follow-up. Sometimes the best part of what any Good Samaritan does is to follow up, that little extra that goes beyond the initial help... checking in to see how things are going. Walking the second mile can be the greatest part of being a neighbor.
I am embarrassed to tell this story about myself and I am still trying to figure out what I might do differently if it were to happen again. I am inclined to think – and perhaps this is a rationalization – that Jesus’ society and ours are a couple thousand years apart. The goal of the Good Samaritan is to see to it that the person is helped – to make it happen – even if the actual help comes from a compassionate and trained police officer or a shelter.
One of the amazing facets about this parable is that it does not need much explanation. A child could understand it. Jesus told a story simple and clear. I never thought after all these years I would get to the point where I understand this simple lesson less and less, because I am the Failed Samaritan. And yet, maybe that is the redeeming mark of a great parable: it haunts us, it will not let go of us, it causes us to think and it makes us question – how does this apply to me and to you?
Who is the neighbor? Jesus redefined the meaning of “neighbor” as the one who showed compassion. Then he added “Go and do likewise.” Of all Jesus’ parables, this is the only one where he added that phrase. May God give us grace when we fail or when we do not know what to do. May God use us wherever possible to help another in need, even when we are tired, hurried, or on the road, even when the other may come from a tribe we do not like. And may God give us wisdom beyond our own to know how to help. An irony of our faith is that we need God’s assistance to do what God asks us to do.
Rev. John Zehring has served United Church of Christ congregations for 22 years as a pastor in Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Maine. He is the author of more than 30 books and e-books. His most recent book from Judson Press is “Get Your Church Ready to Grow: A Guide to Building Attendance and Participation.”
The views expressed are those of the author and not necessarily those of American Baptist Home Mission Societies.
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