Sam’s Bible was open to his daily Scripture reading. It was Luke 10:25-37, the story of the good Samaritan.
As he sipped is coffee, his contemplation was interrupted by the screeching of brakes and a loud crack. It sounded close by.
As he stood up to go to the door for a look, an old summer camp chorus ran through his head.
“And they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love. And they’ll know we are Christians by our love…”
When Sam unlocked the door, he saw a boy who appeared to be about 18 sprawled on the grass in the front yard. The rear wheel of his crumpled motorcycle stuck out part way into the street.
“Those hot rod drivers don’t slow down for anything on this road,” Sam thought as he nudged his storm door open for a better view.
Bird songs floated on a cool breeze. The houses across the street glowed in the sun. Dew drops glistened on the Murphy family’s purple and pink petunias.
A silver SUV slowed as it passed by.
Masked heads popped in and out of doorways along the street to see the spectacle in Sam’s yard.
Sam realized he had forgotten to put on his own mask. Before he could turn around to get it, he felt a light touch at his right elbow.
“What happened, Grandpa? That man is bleeding really bad. The sidewalk’s getting red where his head is. And his helmet came off.”
“Well, Kara, I’d say a car must have gotten too close to that man on his motorcycle, and he lost control.”
“He’s not moving. Can we go talk to him and see if he’s OK?”
“We need to keep our distance, Honey. That’s the kindest thing we can do for him right now.”
“But what if he’s dead, Grandpa?”
Sam smiled down at Kara as he squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll call 911. Everything will be all right.”
He pulled the outer door shut and turned toward the kitchen. At the far end of the granite counter sat the landline phone meant to be used in an emergency. The bottle of disinfectant next to it served as a reminder to wipe down the phone after he placed his call.
“The cars just keep going right by that man, Grandpa.” Kara’s nose pressed against the door screen. “Can’t we help him? I’ll put my mask on.”
“Let’s shut the front door, Honey. The air conditioner is running.”
“Ok, “Grandpa. But my Sunday school teacher said we should love our neighbor. Is he your neighbor?”
“So many questions this early in the morning for a six-year-old. Once I make this call, the first responders will be here in a few minutes.”
Kara bounced in her yellow bunny slippers. “Then what will happen to him, Grandpa?”
“Well, they’ll take him to the hospital and fix him up.”
“Can we go see him?”
“I’m afraid not. He’s a stranger. Besides, he needs to be protected from the virus. That means he can’t have any visitors who might make him sick.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot for a little bit.” Kara lowered her head. “That makes me sad, Grandpa.”
“Me, too, Kara. But those are the rules.”
“Cody says rules are for fools.”
“Does he now. I may have to have a little talk with that boy. He’s right at that age where big brothers get rebellious.”
Kara frowned. “I don’t want that man to be sad, Grandpa. Or sick either.”
“Me neither. But our community will take care of him.”
Sam picked up the handset and began punching buttons.
“Your grandma bought your favorite cereal. The sooner you and I can have breakfast, the better. My coffee’s getting cold.”
====================
The above account is fictional. Any resemblance to actual incidents is purely coincidental.
One morning as I was meditating on the Scriptures, John 13:34-35 came to mind, and it spurred a train of thought.
Here’s what jesus told His disciples.
A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another.
By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.
The message is plain and straightforward. Believers in Christ ought to stand out from everyone else because of our love for one another. This is a selfless, sacrificial love designed to be evident to all.
But we are now prohibited from showing Christian love outwardly. Could believers face persecution for doing what the Lord asks us to do?
That may sound far fetched, but follow my thinking on this.
One of the outward ways Christian love shows itself is through the warmth of hugs and handshakes.
But wait! That breaks social distancing rules. People will think Christians are wrong or even dangerous by showing outward love.
Well then, how should those of us who follow Christ show love to our fellow believers and others?
By doing good deeds, of course. But even that is crippled by fear of being contaminated or causing contamination.
Leave that meal for your neighbor by the door. Don’t go in the house.
I heard a man on a Christian question and answer program say that the best way we can show love to our neighbors is to abide by the social distancing rules.
What foolishness! I was disgusted and angry. Chapter and verse from the Bible, please, Mr. Bible Expert?
OK, let me back up and say that social distancing is in the Bible. The book of Leviticus is full of laws regarding how Israel was to deal with those who became unclean or had a disease such as leprosy.
Are you unclean? Are you a leper?
We’re all acting as if we are and that everybody else is, too. And some of our so-called Christian leaders tell us this is how things should be.
I thank God that Jesus wasn’t afraid to touch a leper. Read about it in Matthew 8:1-4.
When you look at the account of the good Samaritan in Luke 10:25-37, remember the Jews hated Samaritans. They definitely wanted to keep their distance from them.
Yet, who was it that showed compassion and mercy to the man who had been beaten and robbed?
Ironically for the Jews, it was that loathsome outcast who did that which honored the Lord.
In my fanciful tale above, Sam heeded the advice of Christians who say social distancing is the proper way to show love and mercy to others. That’s supposedly what it means to be a good neighbor these days.
But the truth is he actually played the role of the priest and the Levite in the Bible’s account of the good Samaritan. You’ll recall those two Jewish religious leaders avoided the wounded man lying in the road.
You may argue that Sam was a good Samaritan by calling 911.
But could he have done more?
He stopped short because of fear. He put his trust in his community’s resources believing he was absolved from further responsibility or concern.
Too many Christians are afraid of coming down with the corona virus if they don’t follow the government’s rules. Statistically, the chances of getting this thing are extremely small, unless you live in a crowded urban area or are in a nursing home.
Keeping several feet from one another and not allowing our full faces to be seen tears at the very fabric of our everyday human relationships.
That’s exactly what it’s meant to do. We’re being manipulated psychologically.
Tolerating social distancing dehumanizes us. It does not show respect or compassion for others. It shows disdain.
And others are showing the same for you, even when they don’t mean to.
Practicing social distancing means we’re yielding to tyranny disguised as health and safety protocols.
Don’t think for a minute that this is meant to be temporary and that things will be OK later.
I close with some questions to ponder.
If you do get sick with COVID-19, can you trust the Lord with the results?
Do you have the courage not to play the role of the new good Samaritan?