Luke 10:25-37 - The Parable of the Good Samaritan
Let me tell you a story…
A man was going about his business as if it was any other day. He was going from one meeting to another; engaging and smiling, greeting and listening. To him is was just an ordinary day. Well, that’s what he thought, anyway.
Now the man in question was a very important man and he had a very important job.
His name? Well that’s not terribly important.
But how about we call him Morris.
Yes, Morris Johnson.
About 6 o’clock Morris picked up the telephone and received some terrible news. At least he thought it was terrible anyway. He was afraid of the news he had just heard and so he decided to work even harder. He threw himself into his work and tried to carry on, ignoring all that was going on around him.
At 6.30pm he received another phone call. This one was similar to the last one. The person on the other end of the line accused Morris Johnson of not being very good at his job. They said that he wasn’t fit to continue being important, and that, if he left now it would be better for everyone.
Morris felt sad. Poor old Morris Johnson.
Morris felt as though he had been beaten up. He felt as if he had been attacked and mocked. He felt as if he was all alone. Glumly, Morris Johnson sat in his comfy chair in his comfy office as he thought about what he was going to do next.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Errr...come in”, said Morris.
It was his deputy. He was the second most important person, after Morris Johnson of course.
His deputy could see that Morris was upset. He looked as if he had been attacked by a mob. He thought about asking how Morris was, but in the end, he decided not to bother. Morris hadn’t always been terribly nice to the Deputy, and after all, he didn’t want to be tarnished but the events which were about to unfold.
“Never mind Sir,” he said. “Good night.”
Morris continued to feel as if he had been ambushed. He sighed a deep sigh and then...
Knock, knock, knock.
“Come in”, said Morris once more.
This time it was Morris’s best friend in the whole wide world. They been through so much together. Surely he would notice how Morris was feeling.
“Here you are mate!” handing over a big box of papers. His best friend didn’t even look Morris in the eye. He scampered out of the office as quick as his legs could carry him.
Morris felt sad. Poor old Morris Johnson.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Yes, what?” snapped Morris angrily.
“Oh sorry Sir. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just thought you might like a cup of tea?”
It was Doris, the tea lady. Doris had been the tea lady at Morris’s place of work for longer than anyone could remember. Everyone seemed to like Doris, except Morris that is. Morris thought she was irritating; always knocking and offering a chocolate hobnob when you’re trying to chat to the Venezuelan Ambassador.
“Tea would be nice, thank you,” said Morris.
Doris delivered the tea (and the hobnob of course), and then turned to leave. Just as she reached the door she stopped, and peered back over her left shoulder, looking back in Morris’s direction.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking, Sir, but you don’t quite seem your self tonight. If it’s not too rude of me to ask, is everything alright?”
Morris was speechless (not something that happened very often). Here he was, so desperately in need of help, and shockingly it came from the last place he expected.
“Well no, Doris, everything is most definitely not alright actually! But it’s not for you to worry about.”
“Oh I’m not worried about me dear,” she said. “I’m worried about you. It’s not been an easy few years for you, has it?”
“Well, no. Now that you mention it, it hasn’t.”
“Would you like to tell me about it dear? I’m always happy to listen.”
“Erm….alright then. Thank you.”
“No problem dear. Another hobnob?”
Morris Johnson told all of his terrible problems to dear old Doris the tea lady. She listened sympathetically, tilting her head at just the right moments and interjecting only to offer yet another chocolate hobnob.
When Morris had finished he sat slumped in his chair, doubly exhausted by the attacks and the recounting of them to Doris.
“Well dear,” said Doris, “I think you know what you need to do, don’t you?”
“Yes, but what if I don’t want to do it?”
Doris chuckled to herself.
“I’m sure you don’t dear, but as my sweet old Dad used to say to me ‘them’s the breaks.’”
Morris sighed one last time. He straightened his tie, gathered his notes and picked up the telephone.
“Err yes, can you arrange it for 12.30pm tomorrow” he said. “Thank you.”
Morris looked at Doris, and Doris looked at Morris.
“Goodbye Doris,” said Morris. “Thanks for the hobnobs.”
“My pleasure Sir. It was my pleasure.”
Hopefully you’ll understand that I am in no way attempting to make a political statement about Morris or Doris or anyone else that’s had a big week this week. A political statement is not my intention nor my forte.
But I think it’s important, when we encounter a bible passage which is so familiar to us, such as the parable of the Good Samaritan, that we look at it again with fresh eyes.
The truth is, the Good Samaritan story teaches us many things. It teaches us that help often comes from the least likely and least desirable option. I’ve often wondered how the ambushed man felt about being helped by a Samaritan. We view him as gratefully accepting the help of another, but maybe it didn’t go that way. Maybe, as the Samaritan tended his wounds and mopped his brow, the victim spat obscenities at him; reluctant to be touched by him, yet knowing he probably wouldn’t survive without his help.
However you reflect on this story over the coming week, I dare you to look at it through fresh eyes.
Who is the person in this world that you’d least like to help? Who, if you saw them lying in a gutter, would you have to seriously think twice about bending down and scooping them up?
Or think of it another way. Who, if you were lying in a gutter, would you least like to see staring back at you, with an outstretched arm and a caring smile?
Chances are we’ve all got a few names rattling around in our brains now haven’t we? The ones we hate to love. The ones we’d hate to love us.
But Jesus encourages us to engage with this when He says “Which of these do you think was a neighbour to the man in need?” We are enticed in with a question as was so often the case with Jesus’s stories.
So, this week, however you are challenged by this story, I encourage you to walk towards that discomfort. See where that road leads you and explore with the Lord by your side. Who knows, you might even discover a way of loving your neighbour that you didn’t even knew existed.
Now, let all have a sit down and a chocolate hobnob, shall we?
Amen.
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