N ever had the Good Samaritan stirred these emotions. Never had I felt anger, desperation, or resentment. Never, however, had the parable found me so worn down by such a long stretch of poor mental and physical health.
“Please stop telling me I need to cross the road,” I processed internally. The idea of taking steps, by myself, towards a seemingly unconscious stranger on a dangerous pathway made my stomach hurt. “I can’t predict how this will play out… It’s so risky and unsettling … Why are preachers always telling me to be the Good Samaritan? Please, I can’t handle that right now.”
Though an expert in the law asked Jesus the question, “who is my neighbor?” I wonder how many others listened to the storyteller’s answer. Might some in the audience have identified with characters other than the Priest, Levite, and Samaritan? Based on their experiences or social positions, might they have connected more with the inn keeper, the wounded traveler or even the robbers?
Last fall, I identified with the man suffering on the side of the road.
I could not navigate healing on my own. I needed the Samaritan. I needed the inn keeper. I needed trained experts in PTSD who understood my symptoms.
Listening to this familiar passage, in my unfamiliar mental and physical state, the command to enter a crisis-situation felt ill-placed. The expectation to be a “Good Samaritan” seemed to fit better with the seasons of my life when I felt healthier…
Maybe the beloved character represents times when I can cross the road into the unknown; times when I am strong enough to enter the messiness of life that is close relationships with people; times when I am stable enough to collaborate with others towards something greater…
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The inn keeper, also an essential character in the story, plays a less risky role. He remained in his place of work and got reimbursed for expenses. Still, he provided life-saving care. The Samaritan and the inn keeper both facilitate the wounded man’s recovery.
Perhaps, in that moment, the two played their roles so well, because they saw themselves in the beaten man? Or, in the desperation of the robbers? Perhaps the Samaritan survived a violent incident on the road himself? Perhaps, the inn keeper unjustly took someone’s money in a time of personal crisis? Maybe their strength in that moment, the moment Jesus described, came from the experience of needing healing, needing mercy, needing a new beginning… and receiving it.
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Initially, I felt guilty for identifying with the wounded man. Was I avoiding Jesus’ command? Was I apathetic in the face of human suffering?
Then, I made peace with the reality that I won’t always be the Good Samaritan. I am not always prepared to pay the unknown emotional and financial cost to do whatever it takes to help.
Sometimes, I may be an inn keeper, engaged, yet with a greater measure of personal safety. Sometimes, I will be the wounded character. Whether sick, grieving, or overwhelmed, I will be unable to move forward without time and care. Lamentably, I will also be the robbers sometimes. I will allow my actions or inactions to take advantage of someone more vulnerable. God have mercy on me.
God, give us wisdom to recognize the different roles we play in different seasons. Holy Spirit, when we are hurting or grieving, guide us towards healing. Jesus, thank you for calling us to lives that show mercy to others and for the times when others extended mercy to us. Amen.
Update: Since the fall, I continue pushing forward with my mental and physical health. In April, I officially began my work with the Reformed Church in America. Working remotely for now, I will join the efforts of RECONCILE International in South Sudan, the Reformed Church in Rwanda, and RCA Global Mission. I am so grateful to be transitioning from a time focused inwardly on personal and family healing into more of an inn keeper role. To God be the glory!
This reflection was originally published in an update letter for the Smith-Mather family’s supporters. It has been posted here with permission.
Photo courtesy The Virtual Bible Snapshot Project.
Nancy Smith-Mather
Nancy Smith-Mather and her husband, Shelvis, are Reformed Church in America missionaries serving alongside the Reformed Church in America’s South Sudanese partners in both Uganda and South Sudan.
