Thankful for the Good Samaritans

A few weeks ago in our Sunday fellowship we talked about the parable of the Good Samaritan, and it has provoked MANY discussions ever since. The first thing that was interesting to me was when the teacher pushed us to think about the hero of the parable. The hero was the Samaritan, of course. Well, of course I know that, but to the original listeners of the parable it was offensive to have a Samaritan as a hero. So, the teacher encouraged us to think about who might be an offensive hero these days. I came up with jack squat while I was sitting there, but since, I have decided that if Jesus was telling a story and instead of making the pastor or the deacon the hero he made Richard Dawkins (author of "The God Delusion") the hero, I would be REALLY offended. This new thought has given me more fuel for thinking about this parable.

Looking at this parable for the last couple weeks has been difficult for me. I have become really good at rationalizing things. Recently I read Dietrich Bonhoeffer's "Cost of Discipleship". Wowee, that was a great reread, but as he goes through Jesus' Sermon on the Mount and even the Parable of the Good Samaritan, he beats down how often we rationalize our motives and the needs of our world. I don't have time...I don't have the resources...I don't know what to say...I am scared...Someone else would be better at that... Dude, no one would ever help anyone if we all stayed there. Bottom line is being a Good Samaritan costs me something. Sometimes it costs me things I do not think I have. Sometimes it costs me my safety. Sometimes it costs me my comfort. Actually I am going to change that to ALL THE TIME. If it doesn't cost me, then I am probably not a Good Samaritan. Dave and I have spent a lot of time talking about what this means for us and our family, but the minute we stop taking risks is the minute that we have failed to live in light of the gospel.

With all of these discussions I keep coming back to two main thoughts...well, I suppose one is a thought and one is a story. I have a college buddy who spent some time in Calcutta, India, working in Mother Theresa's House of the Dying. I remember him talking about walking down the street and literally having to step over dying or dead bodies. Wow, that does not generally happen in my little area of Atlanta. One of the things he told me was how overwhelmed he felt because he could not help everyone, literally he could not. But he reminded me that neither did Jesus. Jesus did not heal every blind, deaf and lame man that he met, but he did heal some. My friend concluded that one of the things he could do was to give every person the dignity of being human. That means he would look every beggar in the eye and give a nod or a smile. He might not give everyone money, but he was going to acknowledge their humanity. How stirring to remember that! That is the very thing that I often do not do. I want to ignore people, I would rather NOT see them, but in doing that I am taking away their humanity.

My story centers around my most recent encounter with a Good Samaritan. I recently traveled to Cali with the girls and I flew alone. For anyone who has ever done this...I commend you. It is not easy to do, and I honestly cannot think about doing it again for a while. One thing Dave always mentions as he sends me on my way through security is, "if you need help, find a soldier". Of course in the Atl there is no shortage of soldiers. Delta's main hub is Atlanta and is also a main carrier for soldiers, so there are always many of them in the airport. So here I am slowly winding my way through the airport. I have the double stroller with both car seats piled on top of the stroller. The girls are walking behind me, holding hands and we make it to the gate. The last part of the journey onto the plane is usually intense because I now have to get everything down the jetway and onto the plane. As soon as I pulled up to the gate I spotted my Good Samaritan a major in the Army, and I knew he was going to help me. What do you know, but as soon as they announce boarding he is by my side asking if he can help me. He pushed my stroller with all my junk, while I was able to handle the girls, and he told me all about his 6 year old twins. He helped me to my seat, looked me in the eye and was on his way. About 30 minutes into the flight there was a medical emergency and a call for a doctor or a nurse. I did not know what was happening, but I turned to the woman next time me and said, there is a major on board, I bet you money he is back there to help. I was right. At some point during the flight I headed back to the bathroom with both girls and we all squeezed into the tiny space (for tips on how to do that talk to me later...it is a science). As I squeezed out, there sat the major with the woman who was sick. She seemed to be better, but he was sitting beside her telling her stories and keeping her company. When he caught my eye and he saw me with my girls he said, "You are my hero". I am assuming that he was talking about going into that bathroom with 2 small children, which while I will not minimize the difficulty, is not difficult in the scheme of life. I laughed and said, "Well, you are mine." He serves me, my girls and our country everyday, and even when he is on an airplane to go visit his family he is still serving all those around him, giving them dignity, and seeing them as the people they are. I aspire to be this kind of Samaritan.