Stu mentioned a couple of weeks ago about the theme running through our readings and sermons recently around faith and acts – the belief that if our faith really reflects who God is, that will then be reflected in how we conduct ourselves in the world- the people we are, the things we do, the decisions and choices we make.
This seems to neatly come together this morning in probably the most famous example of loving action, the tale of The Good Samaritan – and it is a tale rather than a parable. There’s nothing in it that’s metaphorical, it’s very clear. It’s our job to be merciful, compassionate neighbours in the world.
Those of us who’ve been or are nurses will know there’s two types of nurse; if when you’re going about you normal life there’s some sort of medical emergency – someone collapses in the middle aisle of Aldi - and there’s a shout for medical help, are you the nurse who immediately runs forward, or the nurse who waits 10 seconds to see if someone else runs goes first?
I’m definitely in the second camp, I’m a fantastic nurse in a hospital-based emergency, but out in the wild is a different matter! I think the older and wiser we get the less likely we are to immediately jump in there – with age and wisdom we recognise our limits.
Or maybe we recognise what is ours to do and what isn’t. An up to date first aider might actually be more useful in that situation than someone who’s used to being surrounded by all the help and equipment you could wish for.
That level of self-reflection isn’t, as far as we know, seen in our priest and Levite this morning. They’re not waiting to see if someone else jumps in, thinking if someone else doesn’t step forward then they will, or reflecting there may be someone better equipped, it’s a very clear head down, walk-on-by scenario.
We’ve heard this story so many times - I can remember at priest school having an activity where we re-wrote it in a modern setting - but examining the story through our current lens, reflecting upon faith leading us into action, why did these people of faith not act? Considering this might help us to understand the times when we ourselves have felt we could do nothing but look the other way, despite our faith in God.
Fear could be one answer. What if he’s contagious? They may not have looked closely enough to see he’d been attacked – they just see a man lying there, half dead. He could have a contagious illness. If they catch it and become sick who’ll provide for their families? They have important jobs and responsibilities. Who’ll see to those?
There could be the fear that it’s a trap. If this area is renowned for attacks, it may be known that this is one way the thieves operate to lure in victims.
There’s Mosaic law to consider – if the man is dead, and they can’t tell at this point – if they touch him, they can’t do their jobs for 7 days, they’ll be ritually unclean. They can’t let that happen, again they’re important, relied upon. They’re men that matter.
Another explanation could just be complacency -how often do they see bodies or people collapsed by the side of the road? It could be over-saturation, compassion fatigue. Maybe they’ve stepped in before and it cost them in some way, maybe they see so many people collapsed along that road that if they stopped to help everyone they’d never get anywhere.
So we have fear, personal cost and complacency. I’m not going to lie, that sounds pretty familiar to me at the moment. Whilst writing this there was a charity advert on the TV in the background which I’ve seen dozens of times – a young boy in an African country at the risk of going blind. If I stop to actually pay attention to it, think of the enormity of the issue it's implications, It’ll break my heart. Sometimes we feel we have to protect ourselves from feeling empathy because it could break us.
We do have to have boundaries and protect ourselves from over-saturation of media and news and sadness, just so we can go about our lives. If we let every awful thing we have knowledge about into our hearts we’d be paralysed by not only the sadness but the knowledge that we simply can’t help every person or situation we’d like to. There’re things that are just too big for us to tackle or effect. Those in need are simply too numerous.
How does this fit with our theology of faith leading to action? How can we navigate this alongside our belief in the universal neighbourhood? The whole point of Jesus telling this tale is to help the young lawyer see that anyone who needs our mercy, or who shows us mercy, is our neighbour, and there’s a big scary world our there very much in need of mercy.
I read something by the wonderful Revd. Nadia Bolz-Weber a couple of years ago – I was actually talking to Joanne about this yesterday – to summarise, as I can’t find the actual quote, Nadia wrote that the way we’ve been created, and the world be now inhabit are out of alignment. We we’re created to be people of community and created to be able to carry the worries, concerns, anxieties and stresses of that community, or village or tribe.
With 24-hour news cycles, our connectedness and the global nature of modern life we’re trying to carry the worries, concerns, anxieties and stresses of an entire world, and we simply can’t do it, we’re not built for it…so what do we do?
Seeing the suffering and looking away, turning a blind eye, isn’t an option, because we see our neighbours, those in need of mercy, and our hearts ache for them, because we are people of faith, people who hunger and thirst after righteousness, people who like the Samaritan of the story are moved from our very guts with compassion- that’s the literal translation of the Greek – compassion you feel in your spleen.
Nadia Bolz-Weber also has this to share when it comes to the burn-out that can come from carrying global sorrows in our heads and hearts:
Every day of my life I ask myself three discernment questions:
What’s MINE to do, and what’s NOT mine to do?
What’s MINE to say and what’s NOT mine to say?
And the third one is harder:
What’s MINE to care about and what’s NOT mine to care about?
To be clear – that is not to say that it is not worthy to be cared about by SOMEONE, only that my effectiveness in the world cannot extend to every worthy to be cared about event and situation. It’s not an issue of values, it’s an issue of MATH.
It’s ok to do what is YOURS to do. Say what’s yours to say. Care about what’s yours to care about. That’s enough.
This is all part of being the body of Christ; we each have our role, our separate functions that ensure the body keeps working and moving.
The hope is that if we’re each finding out what work is ours to do, then all the things which need work, the peoples and situations that require our mercy, that require someone to be a neighbour, will eventually have people, enough people, and the right people, whose work it is to be a Christ-like, spirit-filled presence there.
We won’t need to fear, worry about the personal cost or feel complacent in the suffering we see, we won’t need to cross over, pretending we don’t see what’s happening, because someone will already be there, tending the wounds, and we’ll be tending to the wounds we’re called to bandage.
And if we’re outraged by a situation and asking where the mercy is, where the neighbours are, then maybe that’s a sign of the work which is ours to do.
I’m sure you all know that one of my great passions is inclusion – not just inclusion but belonging. I want anyone to walk through that door and feel they belong. That’s part of my work.
My years as a nurse have led me into my current role in staff support and improving culture. That’s part of my work.
Your work might be speaking out against the Palestinian genocide, standing with refugees, fighting for the rights and inclusion of older people, working to support our local domestic abuse charity.
Where is God calling you to carry Gods name and do Gods work? Where are you moved to your spleen with compassion? Listen to the calling and the feelings, if you’re coming back to the same issue or situation time and time again, chances are that’s the work God is showing you is yours.
See it as an invitation, or even a challenge from God. Identify where you’re being called, answer that call, and start the work. Amen
