Dead Samaritan?

This isn't a new struggle for me, but it's one that has come to light again recently: how do you find the balance between personal safety and what Jesus taught about the Good Samaritan?

See, on Saturday I took a self defense class. The first half of the day was lecture, all about awareness and how to avoid situations where you'd have to use the defensive tactics we learned in the second half of the day. We learned that sometimes, even someone just asking you what time it is can be a "verbal bump" to distract or engage you and set you up for bad things.

So this left me confounded. If I can't even do something as simple as tell people what time it is, how am I supposed to be a good neighbor the way Jesus defines it? Or, should I take the risk and assume they are a good person who genuinely needs the time?

But then what about helping people in more blatantly risky situations? Like if I see someone stranded along the side of the road? Today's sermon was, coincidentally, about the good Samaritan. And my pastors talked about how no one stops to help people on the side of the road because there are hundreds of other people driving by and everyone thinks, "well, one of them will help." But someone has to be the one to stop. Am I immune from that just because I'm a woman?

And what element of this comes down to trusting God for protection? I mean I don't think trust means walking down a dark alley alone at night - that's probably more like testing him. But when it comes to helping someone who might actually need help or might be conning us?

But then at self-defense class we also watched a clip from Silence of the Lambs, based on the real way serial killer Ted Bundy got his victims - putting on a fake cast and pretending to move furniture with a broken arm. A woman would come by to help him and she'd end up on the back end of the furniture, getting into the truck. Clearly in that situation, it's a mistake to help the guy. But how do you know if it's a genuine case of someone needing help?

Now, I help people. I volunteer as a victim's advocate. I'm doing a flood clean-up day next Saturday. But those are planned avenues of helping. What about the times when you just see someone in need right then?

Because the fact of the matter is, the Samaritan didn't walk down that road looking for a robbery victim to help. It wasn't in his plans. He just found one and helped. And it was risky. It was a dangerous road, as evidenced by the band of robbers who'd injured the victim in the first place. And for the priest and Levite who passed by, helping the man would've meant becoming ceremoniously unclean and losing the ability to go to the temple until they went through the cleansing period. There was a cost besides the monetary cost of putting the guy up in an inn. There was risk. And yet the Samaritan took it. And Jesus' implication is that the priest and Levite should've, too.

So...what do you think? Where's the balance? How do you know whether to be an alert woman avoiding becoming a victim, or to be a good Samaritan to someone who genuinely has a need? How do you act as a good Samaritan without ending up a dead Samaritan? I'd love your input.

Neighbors

Recently, I posted on Facebook that I started a spreadsheet to help me remember my neighbors' names. I've lived in this rental for almost 5 years now, and I've seen a lot of turnover in the adjoining townhomes. So I've had a hard time keeping track of everyone.

But recently I was thinking about the kind of neighbor I used to be. Back in Wisconsin, in my first apartment. Without any kind of spreadsheet and even after years have passed, I clearly remember many of my neighbors and their names. I've blogged about some of them before. But most recently, I was thinking about the way I treated those neighbors.

There was Page, a very shy little girl I invited to VBS at my church, where she blossomed. Her mom came to the closing event and was amazed at how much Page had come out of her shell. I don't know where Page is today, but I hope she remembers that week at VBS and how much she loved learning about Jesus.

There was Olivia, a 5th grader who was delighted when I gave her a children's Bible. I had many conversations with her and her mom, and I wonder: does Olivia still have that Bible? Does she read it? Is she seeking to know more about God today?

There was Emmanuel and Shoshanda, a brother and sister in a home of neglect and physical abuse that I never could prove to CPS. But I gave them what their parents didn't: attention, care, and love. When Emmanuel hit his head and his parents just yelled at him to finish the task they'd asked their 3-year old to do, I helped him get them their keys and then I hugged him until the tears stopped. I played hopscotch and jump rope with Shoshanda. And I wonder: did my influence in their lives give them a glimpse that not all people are mean? That there is hope and love in this world?

There was Tish, a single mom with 6 kids under the age of 8. Like me, Tish lived on the 2nd floor. But unlike me, she had two kids who couldn't walk and a third who could only barely crawl up the stairs. And since her oldest wasn't old enough to safely carry the others up the stairs, I would listen through my thin walls for the sound of Tish and her kids entering the building, and I'd go down to help her carry them all upstairs. When my ex and I got the dishes on our wedding registry, we gave her my old set and discovered she only had one small pot. So a week later when we unexpectedly got a gift card to Walmart, we used it to buy her a pot set, other kitchen utensils, and some toys for the kids. And I wonder: does Tish have a good support system now? Does she know that God loves her?

There was Jessica, whom I never met but often heard through my floor, fighting with her boyfriend. And after one particularly mean fight in which her boyfriend talked about how much hotter his ex was, I left a note on her door to let her know that she was beautiful and God loved her, and not to let anyone tell her otherwise.

There was the neighbor I saw getting shoved by a man, and I called the police. Later, I received a subpoena and helped put the man in jail for his assault. I only actually met that neighbor in the court's waiting area after I testified. But I'm glad I was able to help keep her safe from this man for at least a little bit.

I say these things not to brag about my good deeds, but out of conviction. What happened to me being that kind of neighbor? The one who saw the needs of those around her and stepped in to help? The one who reached out? Because in the five years I've been in Colorado, I've done hardly anything to help my neighbors. And maybe it's because my neighbors here don't have needs quite so obvious. And my walls aren't paper thin anymore so I can't hear the problems carry through them.

Or maybe it's because I've retreated inward, used my introvertedness as an excuse not to see or help when I see people around me hurting.

“Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”

The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.” Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”

- Luke 10:36-37

May I be the kind of neighbor who shows mercy and compassion.