I write this on Day 29. Most but not all, of Day 18, as recorded in my journal…
Had a funny feeling as soon as I woke up once in the middle of the night that Carolina had lost. (This would be in the ACC tournament semifinals). I can’t explain it and it’s certainly not full proof, but I just get these feelings about my team sometimes. It was confirmed when I quickly checked the internet before getting ready for church. After winning the last two conference tournament titles and remembering each of the last two national champion Carolina teams also did not win the ACC tournament, the news wasn’t too terrible; especially considering our star point guard didn’t even play, resting his injured big toe for the “Big Dance.” But a loss is always a loss. Every year I start off with the hope that this may be the year we go undefeated. UNC hasn’t accomplished the feat in fifty-two years since they did it in 1957 and no college team has finished the season without a loss in over thirty. But the dream continues. The bigger question here, though, is how I’ve been journaling for eighteen days and haven’t talked about Carolina or specifically Carolina basketball hardly at all. Surely a testament in itself of God filling my days and that there’s more to life than basketball – but an oversight that needs to be fixed nonetheless. And it will be shortely in the near future as we roll through March Madness. For now, however, there are so many other things about the day to talk about.
Starting with church this morning. Talk about a blessing from God. Yeah, so remember all the reasons I listed for being tired of the African church service way back on Day 5, I think? This service had none of those things. Of course, we’ll keep remembering African services more and more fondly with time. But when we walked into an actual building, already feeling the air-conditioned difference from the heat outside, and were actually met by greeters giving us brochures and visitor welcome packets, we welcomed the change it was to the last three months. As we walked into a sanctuary filled with cushioned pews, a balcony, and an elevated stage where we could clearly see the choir or whoever was speaking, I think we all kind of relished the fact that we were not leading this service, but rather could enjoy it and learn from the message. Simply put, it was relaxing and reminded most of us a little of home.
The message was a familiar one, but touching and inspirational anyways. The story of the Good Samaritan. How many times has everyone heard this story, I wonder? Yet it always hits home – maybe because no matter how many times we hear it, we still never fully figure out what it means to truly be a “neighbor.” The guest speaker for the day noted the five different roles in the story: the robbers, the victim, the Levite, the Samaritan, and the innkeeper. We are all Levites to some victims, but what struck a particular chord with me first was the specific emphasis put on the innkeeper and his rold. As the pastor pointed out, how many of us are willing to help if a victim is brought directly to us and we don’t have to go out of our way? How many of us are willing to help if it doesn’t cost us anything; if, in fact, we can somehow profit a little from it?
Now, how hard is it to always be the Samaritan? I’ve always imagined the road in this story to be completely abandoned apart from the participants mentioned, dust kicked into the air with every step, and the sun beating down hard. It’s almost impossible not to be a Good Samaritan in these conditions. To leave someone stranded would be like murder itself almost. But what about a on a street in downtown Calcutta? Or New York City? Where every few feet there is someone lying on the sidewalk with nothing, begging for food, money, clothes, shelter, or anything you give them resembling hope? Toughest of all, perhaps is not the number of victims, but of Levites. Here these victims are surrounded by millions of others who could potentially help. And because of this, everyone who CAN help believes someone else who can help actually WILL.
Sure, this is the home of Mother Teresa, who dedicated her life to reaching out the poorest of the poor. And sure, there are more NGOs and religious or humanitarian groups here than one can seemingly count. But that still does nothing for the one who is overlooked. When we first got here, I felt God saying it was all about “the one,” and not to forget about the “the one.” I felt Him saying we don’t have to go far, and I felt Him saying that “the ‘ones’ we overlook would become the masses we seek.” I still feel like we overlook so many people every day. What’s more, I feel helpless in the face of this knowing we will always overlook someone. I wonder if after the Good Samaritan left the victim at the inn if he passed another desperately needing help on the road and he passed by thinking, “I’ve helped one man already. That’s more than most others would do, which makes me a pretty good guy. But now I really have to get going. My wife is waiting at home, I’m hungry and tired. Someone else will help this one.”
To be a consistent Good Samaritan in this world seems almost impossible. And yet, that is God has called us to do. No, not what to do – who to BE. BE the Samaritan. The speaker spoke of how he had passed a victim being harrassed on the streets from the safety of his taxi years ago; how he didn’t stop and has never forgotten it. This struck a chord inside me as just last night on the way home from Flury’s our taxi saw a man very forcefully grab a woman’s arm and pull her back after chasing her in a little circle. It seemed like a domestic dispute and was probably just an argument, I think, and far from the realms of truly injust abuse. But we turned and watched through the back window, nonetheless. I honestly don’t think it was our job to get out and interfere in this situation – but was it? Sadly I will never know….
BE THE GOOD SAMARITAN TODAY. DON’T PASS BY THE VICTIM ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROAD!
