by Sally Matheny
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| photo by Sally Matheny |
Martin Luther King, Jr. gave an intriguing perspective on the story of the Good Samaritan. He said, “The first question which the priest and the Levite asked was, ‘If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?’ But the Good Samaritan reversed the question: ‘If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?”
Have you ever considered the Good Samaritan as a first responder? He wasn’t certified, emergency personnel. The priest in the story certainly wasn’t like NYFD chaplain, Father Mychal Judge, who went to assist those in need when the World Trade Center was attacked.
Due to the terrorists’ assaults on September 11, 2001, almost 3,000 people died. That death toll included over 400 first responders, including Father Judge, who came to the rescue.
While people poured out to escape the towers, the first responders charged in. Pushing through heavy smoke and ash, they sought out those in need.
Why?
Why would anyone risk their life for a stranger? Why endanger your future with your spouse, your children, and your life dreams in order to preserve the future of a stranger?
Intense training helps America’s emergency personnel, fire fighters, police officers and military service members. They are the best first responders when physical danger looms. They have my utmost respect and appreciation.
However, we hear about other kinds of first responders, when rare moments arise and an immediate action is necessary. People pull victims to safety and thwart evil schemes.They step up and speak up.
Some people bravely spring into action while others hang back. Why?
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Practice compassion.
Pixabay photo |
Are certain people born with a natural tendency towards empathy? I’m sure a thousand scientific studies have already been conducted concerning the topic.
One thing for sure, we’re all born with a selfish nature.
And we all experience fear.
So, why do some people stop and help, like the Good Samaritan, and others pass by?
It’s obvious when we hang back, it‘s due to some type of fear. Fear of pain, rejection, or the cost of time, money, and emotional involvement.
Some researchers suggest the ones who act, usually grew up taking part in activities which involved empathy. As children, they may have had opportunities to serve in the community, work at shelters, or watched parents be a voice for the oppressed.
If children are encouraged to do the right thing, and to help those less fortunate, then they are more likely to continue to do those things as adults.
On the other hand, if children grow up where everything is centered on their desires and comfort, then it makes sense that they will avoid anything contrary to that.
Sometimes, to do the right thing as a parent, we have to face our own fears of pain, rejection, time & emotional involvement.
Are we willing stop and tend to our children’s hearts, instead of gliding by, hoping they pick up assistance from someone else? Because someone else may teach how to do good things without adding the Reason why we do them. Someone else may add agendas to pollute the heart instead of allowing God’s Word to purify it. Even worse, there may not be anyone willing to stop at all. Too late, we realize what we had hoped would happen “naturally,” or under someone else’s care, did not happen at all.
Are we brave enough to set an example for our kids by lovingly speaking the truth of God’s Word rather than agreeing with a world that contradicts it?
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| photo by Sally Matheny |
God, help us to be the first responders to our children’s spiritual training. Strengthen us to stand firm on your perfect, Holy Word. By Your grace and mercy, help us raise our children to be God-fearing, yet fearless of the world. Help us instill in them a love for all your people. To be first responders for those in need, especially those in need of You. Amen.
by Sally Matheny
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| Enthusiasm fresh as the morning |
My enthusiasm was fresh the morning we began serving a meal at the project. People slowly filtered into the commons area. My cheerful greetings were not returned. Instantly, I sensed a divide greater than the table of food between us. They had come for the food. Nothing else.
An unexplainable heaviness stifled conversations. Icy silence, as well as sharp tongues, sliced my attempts to interact. It was obvious. We were not welcome.
After helping distribute the food, I retreated under the outstretched branches of a tree, thankful that I’d thought to bring a lawn chair. It provided a secure place to perch and watch the crowd. Most of the missions team stayed under the shady tent. Two or three pastors mingled and tried to chisel out conversations.
Then I saw her.
A young woman, probably in her early twenties, stood off to the side, alone. She was looking around as if searching for something, or someone.
I hesitated. The last woman I had approached, gruffly informed me she was waiting on someone. Perhaps this young woman was waiting as well.
Yet, she continued to stand there, sweat flowing down her face. She hugged her drink and chips in one arm and her hamburger in the other. What was she looking for?
Seating was limited. Most people grabbed their food and hustled back to their homes. Could this woman possibly be one of the few who wanted to sit and stay awhile?
Slowly, I eased out from under the tree’s protection. Would she be like the others and berate me for being there? I was an outsider—different ethnicity, different economic level, different worldview.
“Hi. Are you looking for someone?”
She shyly shook her head no. I didn’t recognize any anger in her face. It appeared to be more like discomfort.
“Would you like to sit down to eat?”
A simple nod yes.
I look around at the few tables provided. No empty seats. I scan the grassy area under the trees. An empty chair sits beside mine.
“Would you like to sit under the tree? It’s cooler.”
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| Sharing the Son Means Leaving the Shade |
She nods and follows me to the tree. The distance is short, but we don’t arrive in time to claim both chairs. Only my chair is left.
“Here. You can have my chair.”
As she sits down, I introduce myself. She tells me her name. But I could not hear her well over someone yelling. I did not ask her to repeat it.
I smile, trying hard not to be insincerely cheery. “It’s nice to meet you. I hope you like your burger.” I motion toward the tent. “I’ve got to go help serve.”
She smiled with another silent nod.
As I stood under the shade of the tent, I kept looking back over at the tree. The woman ate silently. A young man, with a mental illness, chattered away beside her but she wasn’t responding.
Something inside told me to go tell her why we were there. We weren’t just giving away free meals. We were sharing the love and hope of Jesus Christ.
But the earlier rejections of the crowd stifled my response.
The crowd dwindled. Only a few remained in line. I decided handing out napkins to folks would be helpful.
“Would you like a napkin?”
A few minutes passed. Another expressionless face approached.
“Would you like a napkin?”
Another five minutes passed before anyone needed my valuable napkin distribution service. This is ridiculous. I should just go talk to her.
I neatly stack the napkins on the corner of the table and turn back towards the tree.
She is gone.
As quietly as she slipped into my life, she slipped out. As well as my opportunity to tell her how much God loves her. And how He gives a joy so great, that she’d have a hard time staying so quiet.
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| Plant a seed of hope. |
And for my silence, I am sorry.
Perhaps she already had a relationship with Christ. I hope so.
I understand when we first meet someone, it’s not always the best time to share Christ.
Although often,
it is.
”But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord.
Always be prepared
to give an answer to everyone who asks you
to give the reason for the hope that you have.
But do this with gentleness and respect.”
1 Peter 3:15 (NIV)
by Sally Matheny
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| College Student: Be a Game-Changer |
When my children were preschoolers, they “beat” me in every game. I made sure they buzzed in answers before me, scored the most points, and reached the finish line first.
Why? Because I did not want them to be upset if they failed to win.
The same took place in other areas. Batches of backward letters were praised, rather, than reshaped. Misspoken words adored instead of corrected. Scored baskets enticed wild cheers at their first basketball games. We did not dare mention the refs overlooking some serious walking infractions.
Why? Because I, like many others, wanted my child to feel successful.
Eventually, we enforced playing games with integrity. Corrections began to flow into all areas of my kids’ lives. Sometimes they did get upset. There were angry outbursts, tears, and “I quit” attitudes.
For the sake of peace, I almost wanted to slip back into letting them be right, even if they were wrong. Almost.
Which brings me to today’s topic. Have you heard of "adulting"?
Read more »
by Sally Matheny
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| Honoring True Freedom |
In my youth, I did not realize the full value of my freedom. My understanding only went as far as my own limitations.
“Why can’t I watch that T.V. show?”
“When will I get to drive a car?"
“Where can I go with my friends?”
As I grew, so did my perception of freedom.
I learned people sacrificed their own freedom for mine.
I may never fully comprehend the price some have paid, or adequately appreciate those who are still hammering out ways to preserve my freedom.
One reason for my ignorance is because someone, for some reason, cared enough to protect me from that knowledge. I once heard a special agent say if an evil event didn’t make the news, because his team prevented it from happening, then their mission was accomplished.
