And Who is My Neighbor?

Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. ³¹Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. ³²So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. ³³But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. ³⁴He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. ³⁵The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’ ³⁶Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” ³⁷He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”

 While camping at my property in Rocksprings this past Spring Break, I stumbled upon a little bit of an unfortunate circumstance.  My truck battery died.  Completely.  Utterly.

This wouldn't have normally been a bad thing.  I mean, I've got one of those portable jumper things.  I just happened to have left it at home.  I could easily call for help, but there is VERY limited cell phone service and I knew virtually no one. 

But...

Things have a way of working out.  Earlier in the day my truck battery died, I met a group of guys who own property out there as well.  They gave me their names and numbers.

Earlier that day, my wife had placed her purse on the trailer I had towed out there.  For some reason, at intervals, the spot where she placed her purse received cell phone service.  It wasn't constant, but it was there.

I placed my cell phone in exactly that spot and waited until I saw there was signal.  The signal maintained for just long enough for me to make a few phone calls.  People called people, and before I knew it, I had numerous offers of help.

At 9 p.m. that evening, one of the folks who lives out near my property came driving up the road in his Mule (the Kawasaki kind).  He had a generator and battery charger.

"I understand you need help," he said.

I'd never met the guy.  He'd driven by my place earlier and seen my kids and I out playing.  He was afraid they were in the tent asleep and that he'd wake them.  (They were in San Antonio with their grandparents in a much warmer situation than I was.)

His help was much appreciated.  He cranked up his generator, plugged in his battery charger, and was talked and waited for the battery to charge.  Of course, he eventually found out I was a pastor.

"I'm not much of a church goer.  I drink.  I smoke.  I cuss.  I've done a few things that aren't to be proud of.  Maybe I'm not too good of a person."

Me: Let me tell you what I think.  I'm really not trying to butter you up or anything, but it seems to me Jesus had a whole lot less to say about those kind of things, but He did have a lot to say about dropping everything and helping out a neighbor who was in need.  You've come out here in the middle of the night to help out a complete stranger, and in my book, that carries a lot more weight than those other things.

"Hmm.  I think you are right about that."

I know I am, but that's beside the point.  The point is I was this guy's neighbor, and he responded when I was in need.  No questions.  No asking for payment or anything from me.  He simply was doing the right thing.

Would I do the same?

I hope.

Putting it All in Perspective

All it takes is one hospital call.

There are moments when I hate this calling/job. 

It's not so bad when you are new to a place and don't know people very well, but spend a few years in a congregation serving with them.  Get to know them deeper than on the surface.  Bond with them.  Feel at home.  Feel like you are really and truly a part of the community.

And then go stand in a room with the parents of a two year old listening to a doctor tell them he is almost 99% positive their little, blond-haired, blue-eyed girl has cancer.  Watch them try to hold it together as the doctor explains the whats, whys, and hows.  Stand there as they begin breaking down, shed tears, and wonder what the future holds.  Watch their anxiety soar through the roof of that hospital.

Then, stand as grandparents enter, and the news is broken to them.  See grown men grow teary eyed work against all that teaching received growing up--"Be strong.  Be a man. Be tough."

How can you be tough when your daughter, your granddaughter is facing a threat like cancer?

How can you be passive when you know she will have chemicals induced into her body, make her sick, cause her hair to fall out, and weaken her immune system?

I hate watching this kind of stuff.  I absolutely hate it!!  It's easier when you don't know people.  You can be detached.  But when you know people, and you love them...it ain't easy.

There are moments when I hate this calling/job.

And as God's particular spokesperson at that moment, you know there is really nothing to say.  God's mysterious silence mirrors your own silence.

You don't know why.

You don't understand why.

You don't have any clue or any answer.

But you cling to hope.  It's your job to hold on tightly to that ray of light, and then try to point it out to those around you.

"Pardon me for continuing to make a joke or two.  Pardon me for smiling in the midst of all this.  I am not trying to make light of the situation at all.  But it is my job to remind you of hope.  It is my job to remind you life isn't stopping.  It's my job to remind you that even in the midst of this horrible news, God is still here."

"I'm glad you are here to do just that."

There are moments when I love this calling/job.

People need hope.  Even when hit with such news.

It puts things into perspective--a perspective that all too often we lose. 

We love to argue about insignificant things.  I mean, what difference does it really make whether or not a church service is conducted with organ music or with piano?  What difference does it make whether or not the flowers on the altar are real or artificial?  What difference does it make whether or not the cleaning lady missed emptying a trash can?  Who cares if the umpire called a strike when it was a ball?  Who cares if the ref missed a holding call?  So what if the best player on the team missed a last second jump shot for the win?  So what if the Democrats passed a law and the Republicans are holding up the process or vice versa?

Who really gives a damn?

Not those parents and grandparents who I was around today.  They could care less.  All they could care about was whether or not their little girl would survive this threat to her life.  All they could care about was whether or not their prayers and the prayers of their church family and friends would be effective.  All they could care about was the reality of doctors and hospitals and treatments for the next several years. 

Death and life.

Cross and resurrection.

Despair and hope. 

Put it in perspective. 

Remember what's really important.