Homespun Homily: A So-so Samaritan
By Lori Fontana
We all know the story of “The Good Samaritan.” (Luke 10:29-37) Jesus teaches his listeners the Great Commandment, which ends with [love] your neighbor as yourself. A scholar in the crowd asks Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?” In response, Jesus tells the well-known parable.
It is a parable relevant for today. Who is my neighbor? How far afield does Jesus’ directive go? Is it the people who live to the right and left of me? Is it my relative with whom I don’t get along? Is it the man or woman living in the park across the street? Just who is my neighbor, Jesus? Really, how far do I have to stretch with this?
And what does loving my “neighbor” actually look like? Is it a donation to the mission? Volunteering at the food bank? Inviting someone in need to my dinner table? The interpretations and possibilities are endless. I want to have the loving, compassionate heart of the Good Samaritan, but do I have the time, the energy, the resources, the courage?
In my younger years, I really did believe that we Christians could “solve” all the woes and problems of society. If everyone pitched in and worked together, there would be enough food, enough shelter, enough care and camaraderie to pull every person out of need. But the older I get (and I am still learning), I’ve grown to believe that, as Jesus said , “The poor you will always have with you…” (Matthew 26:11) However, I don’t hear Jesus saying, “Just throw up your hands in defeat and walk away!” Jesus says quite the opposite: “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers [and sisters] of mine, you did for me.” (Matthew 25:40)
So I walk around with this mental tug-o-war each time I encounter someone in need. Is this my neighbor? And if so, what should I do? What can I even manage to do for her or him? The problems are so huge, and I feel inadequate and, many times, afraid to try to help.
Several weeks ago, on a gray, chilly, misty day, I walked home from the post office (rubbing elbows with my “post office prodigals!”). Ahead, I saw a pile of boxes and bags around a huge yellow umbrella, and a large dog. Having once been bitten by a stray dog, I swung widely around this pooch who seemed to be guarding the mound of assorted items. Then I saw two legs poking out from beneath the umbrella. There was a person in there. Hmmm.
I continued walking home, but my conscience was pricked. Here was someone who looked to be in need. What to do? I arrived home, and paced a bit before I decided I could AT LEAST bring the person some hot chocolate. I mixed it up in a “to go” cup with a lid and trekked back to where the person was sitting. The dog was now lying down. I couldn’t even see the person, but I called out, “Would you like some hot chocolate?”
Immediately, the person responded, “Yes!” The voice was that of a young woman. I approached slowly, wary of the dog.
All I could see were the woman’s legs so I offered, “If you put your hand out, I’ll hand you the hot chocolate.” She extended an arm, I gave her the cocoa, and I handed her a card advertising the Ravenna Pop-Up Kitchen, where we distribute food once a week for neighbors. “I hope you enjoy the cocoa.” She responded with a thank you. I asked her name – “Kat” – and her dog’s name – “Max.” I said she would be very welcome to come by the next day to the Pop-Up Kitchen for food and toiletries. Then I was on my way.
Back in my own warm home, I had mixed feelings. A cup of cocoa is such a tiny band aid for such a BIG problem. I’m not the Good Samaritan by a long shot; but maybe I’m at least the “So-so Samaritan.” Though a small gesture, I did something; I acknowledged this sister human being; I went a little bit out of my way to offer a tiny kindness.
Maybe that’s the point. Most of us cannot solve society’s big problems. But all of us can do something to show care. Even the smallest gesture can lift another person up and give them hope. We can ask the Holy Spirit for guidance, courage, and strength; and the Spirit will open our eyes to how we can help. Mother Teresa said, “Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.” If each one of us shares what we can, we will be better than a “so-so Samaritan.” We will be the Good Samaritan – the hands and feet, the heart and voice of Jesus to a weary world.
