The Bloody Way

One guy was beating up another guy maybe 50 feet away from me. It was a dark alley in Chicago. I was frozen with indecision. What should I do? It was probably just two winos squabbling over a bottle of Ripple. If I venture down there to intercede they’ll probably end up turning on me. It was none of my business. I’m not a cop. What should I do?

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I was reminded of this situation this morning as we looked at the story of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10. We observed that choosing to get involved in the lives of others often involves:

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•?Risk – the road from Jerusalem to Jericho was known as “The bloody Way” because of all the robberies and violence that occurred along its winding path. Good Sam was setting himself up to be ambushed by stopping to help the latest victim. Yet he stopped anyway. He was a gutsy fellow. I admire that.

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•?Personal Involvement – Good Sam got down and dirty; he likely got himself muddy and bloody caring for this guy. He could have easily ignored him like the priest and Levite did but he chose not to.
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?•?Time – this was certainly an unplanned crimp in his schedule. He invested hours into the life of this unfortunate stranger. He knew that people are more important than punctuality. I suppose it’s an obvious truth that helping others is going to take time.

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•?Money – two silver coins, about two days wages, was his investment in caring for this man he didn’t even know. About zero chance of ever being repaid or even being thanked. Its one thing to lighten your wallet for a friend, a totally another to lose cash on a complete stranger.

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How much of a difference could we make in our communities, in our schools, in our work places if we daily made the choice to love our neighbor – without holding back because of risk, time or money?? How might God reveal Himself to us in new and wonderful ways if we lived with abandon toward others??

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Some 28 years ago on that city street I quickly ran across the street to the police station and reported to the desk officer what was taking place. He never looked up from his newspaper, never made eye contact with me, never gave the slightest indication that he planned to act upon my crime report. Somewhat puzzled I walked back to my dorm room, thankful that it wasn’t me getting kicked and punched in that dark alley.

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Peace,
?Dave

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