Among the most well-known parables of Jesus is the story of the Good Samaritan (Lk 10:25-37). In answer to the question, “Who is my neighbor?”, Jesus tells the story of a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho who is attacked, robbed and left for dead. After two prominent fellow-Jews (a priest and a Levite) see the man and pass him by (probably out of fear of becoming ritually impure), a Samaritan, a non-Jew, stops to help. The Samaritan, who would probably be considered an enemy or a rival to a Jew, shows compassion by bandaging his wounds, lifting the man onto his own animal, bringing him to an inn and personally tending to him. When the Samaritan leaves the inn to continue his journey, he gives money to the inn-keeper to pay for the victim’s continued care.
From this story, the phrase “Good Samaritan” has entered our language as a description of anyone who selflessly comes to the aid of a person in need. There are even “Good Samaritan” laws which protect such individuals from being sued for any harm a helper might unintentionally cause while offering aid.
Using the imagery of this story, the question is: why is there so much passion about and attention given to the very rich young man who is leaving town with his entourage? In light of “The Decision,” why has so much time, energy, commentary, newsprint, talk, focus and emotion been paid to someone who is leaving, with all his riches and power intact?
Why is there not the same level of passion – and compassion – for so many of our children who are being robbed of an adequate education, which we know is essential to their future?
Why is there not the same level of passion and compassion for the millions of people who have lost or are in the process of losing their unemployment benefits, who have no “next job” in sight (despite all their efforts) and who are now worrying how they can possibly support themselves and their families?
Why is there not the same level of passion and compassion for the struggling alcoholics and addicts who have become “sick and tired of being sick and tired” and have reached out for treatment, only to be told that there are no treatment beds available and they will have to wait? For many, that wait will be too long and they will relapse, not because they want to, but because their addiction overwhelms them once again.
Why is there not the same level of passion and compassion for people coming out of prison, who have paid their debt to society and are trying to begin a new life? Very quickly, they learn that if they are honest on their resume, they may not get an interview and probably won’t get the job; if they leave it off their resume and the person hiring finds out, they certainly won’t get the job; and if the owner does a background check, they probably won’t get the apartment.
Why is there not the same level of passion and compassion for the people whose neighborhoods have been devastated by mortgage fraud, by foreclosures, by vandalism, by abandoned and empty houses and lots, whose own property has lost much of its value despite being kept up for many years and now will have little to leave to their children or grandchildren?
Why is there not the same level of passion and compassion for the many people who sit alone in their home, in their apartment, in the nursing home and no one ever calls and no one ever comes?
Perhaps it is easier to pay attention to the rich man leaving. Perhaps it is easier for us to talk about him and complain and criticize and get all worked up. That way, we keep moving down the road ourselves and we, too, can pass by on our way. And pretty soon, we can forget about the people on the side of the road and forget that we ever saw them.
The story of the Good Samaritan is a simple one. We know what we’re supposed to do. As the book of Deuteronomy says, it “is not too mysterious and remote for you. … No, it is something very near to you, already in your mouths and in your hearts; you have only to carry it out.” (Deuternonmy 30: 11, 14)
Or, as Jesus tells the scribe, “Go, and do likewise.” (Luke 10:37)
Who Do We Respond to Going Down the Road?
Among the most well-known parables of Jesus is the story of the Good Samaritan (Lk 10:25-37). In answer to the question, “Who is my neighbor?”, Jesus tells the story of a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho who is attacked, robbed and left for dead. After two prominent fellow-Jews (a priest and a Levite) see the man and pass him by (probably out of fear of becoming ritually impure), a Samaritan, a non-Jew, stops to help. The Samaritan, who would probably be considered an enemy or a rival to a Jew, shows compassion by bandaging his wounds, lifting the man onto his own animal, bringing him to an inn and personally tending to him. When the Samaritan leaves the inn to continue his journey, he gives money to the inn-keeper to pay for the victim’s continued care.
From this story, the phrase “Good Samaritan” has entered our language as a description of anyone who selflessly comes to the aid of a person in need. There are even “Good Samaritan” laws which protect such individuals from being sued for any harm a helper might unintentionally cause while offering aid.
Using the imagery of this story, the question is: why is there so much passion about and attention given to the very rich young man who is leaving town with his entourage? In light of “The Decision,” why has so much time, energy, commentary, newsprint, talk, focus and emotion been paid to someone who is leaving, with all his riches and power intact?
Why is there not the same level of passion – and compassion – for so many of our children who are being robbed of an adequate education, which we know is essential to their future?
Why is there not the same level of passion and compassion for the millions of people who have lost or are in the process of losing their unemployment benefits, who have no “next job” in sight (despite all their efforts) and who are now worrying how they can possibly support themselves and their families?
Why is there not the same level of passion and compassion for the struggling alcoholics and addicts who have become “sick and tired of being sick and tired” and have reached out for treatment, only to be told that there are no treatment beds available and they will have to wait? For many, that wait will be too long and they will relapse, not because they want to, but because their addiction overwhelms them once again.
Why is there not the same level of passion and compassion for people coming out of prison, who have paid their debt to society and are trying to begin a new life? Very quickly, they learn that if they are honest on their resume, they may not get an interview and probably won’t get the job; if they leave it off their resume and the person hiring finds out, they certainly won’t get the job; and if the owner does a background check, they probably won’t get the apartment.
Why is there not the same level of passion and compassion for the people whose neighborhoods have been devastated by mortgage fraud, by foreclosures, by vandalism, by abandoned and empty houses and lots, whose own property has lost much of its value despite being kept up for many years and now will have little to leave to their children or grandchildren?
Why is there not the same level of passion and compassion for the many people who sit alone in their home, in their apartment, in the nursing home and no one ever calls and no one ever comes?
Perhaps it is easier to pay attention to the rich man leaving. Perhaps it is easier for us to talk about him and complain and criticize and get all worked up. That way, we keep moving down the road ourselves and we, too, can pass by on our way. And pretty soon, we can forget about the people on the side of the road and forget that we ever saw them.
The story of the Good Samaritan is a simple one. We know what we’re supposed to do. As the book of Deuteronomy says, it “is not too mysterious and remote for you. … No, it is something very near to you, already in your mouths and in your hearts; you have only to carry it out.” (Deuternonmy 30: 11, 14)
Or, as Jesus tells the scribe, “Go, and do likewise.” (Luke 10:37)