So, this week I was on my way to church for a funeral I was conducting. I always try to leave enough time to be there at least 20-30 minutes early, just so I can prepare myself for the service. By the time I left home, I was just about ‘on time’ by my schedule.
However, as I was driving through the village, I noticed a van in the middle of the road, broken down. It was a milk-van (yes we still have milk delivered here!) As I waited in the road to get past, the driver, with some effort, started pushing the van back into a side road. It looked hard work.
I drove on.
But as I drove, I couldn’t help feeling guilty for not stopping to help. The more I thought about it, the more clear it became to me that I could have got out and helped him move the van. It must have been pretty heavy. Okay, he looked fit, but a helping hand probably wouldn’t have been refused.
But I didn’t; I drove on. I told myself that I didn’t have time, I didn’t want to be late. Now, I had a a good reason. I was on my way to a funeral, after all. Surely that was important. But it probably would have taken no more than 2 minutes to get out of the car, push the van and be off. I had time. Actually, he probably would have got it out of the way quicker with a bit of help.
I started thinking about the parable of the good Samaritan,
There is the man, attacked by robbers, lying injured and bleeding on the side of the road. For hours he lies, weakened and half-dead in the scorching heat. He’s in desperate need of help. And then a figure starts coming into sight.
“A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side.” (Luke 10:31)
Maybe the priest thought he was dead, and didn’t want to get himself ritually unclean by touching a dead body. Or perhaps he was on his way to the Temple to fulfil his religious duties. Maybe he was running a bit late, and didn’t have time to stop. But he should have.
And it occurred to me that I was the priest in the parable of the good Samaritan.
Okay, so the situations are nowhere near the same. But I used the excuse of not having the time to be a help to someone. The point is that it’s so easy to allow our own agendas, our own schedules to get in the way of love and compassion.
“I don’t have time to help.” “It’s not convenient right now.” “I’m too busy; I’ve got a lot on.”
The point of the parable was to teach what it meant to love your neighbour as yourself. The reality is that the needs of the world, and the people we meet around us, are never convenient. They don’t wait until we’re ready for them. We have to be prepared to stop and be the one who can make a difference, and not just walk on by leaving compassion to someone else. Let it be us.
“The Lord is gracious and righteous; our God is full of compassion.” (Psalm 116:5)
So, to the milkman, whoever and wherever you are: Sorry.