On the way to work, I often see an old man standing by the side of the road. He carries a cane and stares with a vacant look, often waving to the car as I drive past as if he remembers me in a blurry, half-forgotten way. The road has a hill and blind curve, and I'd become concerned about the prospect of him being hit by a car. Recently, I have seen him walking IN the road instead of standing beside it, so I decided to take action. I called the police and reported him. They said they would send a car by and get him out of the road. But, I didn't think that would be enough, because he would probably just be back in the road again tomorrow. So I called the Department of Social Services to see if they could get him some help. The computer gave me several options, none of which seemed adequate, so I chose "report neglect of an adult." But, when I began talking to the operator, it became clear that I had made a mistake.
"What is the neglected adult's name?"
"I don't know, I just see him walking in the road."
"Ok, what is his address?"
"I don't know."
"Sir, it will be very hard for us to go evaluate the situation if we do not have a name or address."
And it hit me; I didn't know anything about this man. I had driven by him hundreds of times, been concerned about his safety, tried to act as a "Good Samaritan." But, I had never actually stopped to talk to him, to learn his name and his situation, to help him get out of the road. I didn't ever stop because I was always busy going somewhere. I had an appointment to make, kids to pick up, a sermon to write. So, he tickled the back of my mind with concern until today I decided to DO SOMETHING. But, rather than the obvious Samaritan thing to do, to stop, find out what the situation is, and help from there, I did the American thing, call the professionals and let them handle it. When I drove back, he was gone, but luck would have that the neighbor was pulling into his driveway. I pulled over and asked if he knew the man I'd seen in the road. He said yes, that was his father. The man in the road was 85, senile, and ornery. His son was doing his best to take care of him, get him where he needed to go, make sure he had heat and food. But he couldn't keep him out of the road. He had tried to get him into a living facility, but a judge had blocked it, declaring the man to be fit to handle his own affairs.
What I had almost done was report this man, who was trying his best to take care of his father, to DSS. Who knows what the implications of that may have been. He said, "Hey, next time you see my dad, why don't you stop and talk to him? He'd like that; he'll rattle on about 1944 cars." Good question, why don't I? Too much in a hurry, too many other things to do, too many important priorities. There is a huge problem with our society and our Christianity. We don't have enough time for relationships, when Jesus tells us that relationships are what it is all about. We don't want to stop and talk to a man on the side of the road; the easy way is to call the police. We don't want to stop and talk to the lady asking us for money on the street; the easy way is to pretend we don't hear. We don't want to learn about the problems people face in other parts of the world by actually getting to know some of them; the easy way is to click the next article in our news feed. And we miss the human face of all the problems that we face. We want the professionals, the government and the police and the social service agencies, to solve the world's problems while we lock our doors and go about our business.
Here's the way of God. God didn't fix our problems from afar. God came as a baby in a manger. God initiated relationship with us, stopped to help us. In our broken world with our screwed up priorities, this way of living, to stop and talk to people, to initiate relationship, has become the hard way to live. But I think it's the only way to help each other and help ourselves, to really understand the problems that each person faces and find real solutions out of them. God convicted me today of my sin, and showed me another way, the way of Jesus, the way of relationship.
