Living with a Good Samaritan

A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead.

Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side.

But a Samaritan while travelling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, “Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.”

–Luke 10:30-35

We were on our way to the airport. Our flight was scheduled to leave in a few hours––the one that would take us to the East Coast for my interview with the Ministerial Fellowship Committee.

I’m always uptight before we fly, and I was even more so that night, with my interview looming.

We were driving south on Spenard Road after a delicious pre-flight dinner at Ray’s Place. I was driving, and at about 9 p.m. it was dark out.

Mid-conversation Liesl said, “Hey––that guy’s getting beat up––right by the bus stop.”

I have to admit that my first thought was not wanting to miss our flight.

“Pull over,” Liesl said as we got closer to the incident. By the time I pulled to the curb––still in my lane––the assailant had left, leaving only the victim.

Liesl had called 911, and was describing the incident to the dispatcher.  She rolled down her window.  ”Are you OK?” she asked.  He mumbled something.  ”Do you want to talk to the police? I’ve got them on the phone.”  He said, “Oh, no, it’s OK, I know that guy, he always picks on me.”

I have to admit that I was feeling distracted by the fact that I was blocking traffic. I could feel the pressure of headlights on my bumper, and expected honking at any moment.

“What’s your name?” Liesl asked, passing along the dispatcher’s request.  Believe it or not, his last name was Love.

When we could see that he wasn’t seriously hurt, and with assurances that the police were coming, we drove off.

“I don’t care if he was drunk,” Liesl said.  ”That’s no excuse to beat someone up.  I can’t believe that whole bus full of people saw that happen, and no one did anything.”

I didn’t tell her that, had I been alone, I probably wouldn’t have noticed. And if I had noticed, I’m not sure that I would have stopped.

That’s how it is for some of us.  By temperament and training, we’re more likely to “pass by on the other side.”

Some people are content to stay that way, but I’m not.  I’m really glad that I live with a justice-seeking, courageous Good Samaritan who’s teaching me to notice, and to act.

Image by Tim Green, used under a Creative Commons Attribution License.

Sacrificing most of us on a cross of tax cuts

Important lessons await us in the strangest places.

Liesl and I have recently started watching the HGTV real estate show Selling New York.

I’ve read about income disparity, and how the distribution of wealth in this country is more skewed than it’s been since early in the 20th century.

But Selling New York makes it more real.

Here’s how HGTV describes the show:

They are assertive, razor-sharp and always compelling real estate brokers in the country’s most competitive market. In a city of over 8 million people, where the average sale price is over $2 million, the competition to seal the deal is stiff. Now, catch a rare glimpse into a world where a solid reputation at the top of the real estate food chain involves swimming with the sharks, going head-to-head with the best, and rubbing shoulders with the wealthiest and trendiest of New York’s social, political and artistic elite. This is Selling New York.

If you want to see footage of our own Gilded Age (happening right now, while the rest of us suffer from the Great Recession), this show will give you that.   It’s mind-boggling.

Meanwhile in Madison, far from Madison Avenue, the Grand Old Party’s tax cuts have pushed Wisconsin into a fiscal crisis.  The New York Times is not alone in wondering if the intent of those tax cuts was to create an opportunity for union busting.

A lot of people my age are cynical about politics.  They say that both sides are crooked.  Maybe there’s some truth to that.

But maybe it’s also true that there’s a small segment of our population that’s doing quite well, thank you very much.  And they’d like us to stay cynical, to stay out of the fray, to stay home.

They’d like us to keep on ignoring the tax cuts going to people buying opulent $3 million dollar condos in LA–that they’ll use just a few weeks out of the year.  They’d like us to lull us into believing that teachers, firefighters, police officers and factory workers are the real crooks–not those Wall Street credit swappers.

Rise up, people!  Shrug off your cynicism and join the Prairie Populists.  Study up on Gene Sharp and his 198 Methods of Non-Violent Action.  Number 22 is “protest disrobings.”  Doesn’t that sound like fun?

Almost as fun as the Wisconsin Democrats hiding in an undisclosed location!

Wahoo!  Aren’t these interesting times?

Which one is it, Brawny?

If you’ve been following the story about the Koch brothers bankrolling the Tea Party, you probably know that Brawny paper towels are made by Georgia Pacific, which is owned by Koch Industries.

Jane Mayer’s New Yorker article says this about the Koch brothers:

The Kochs are longtime libertarians who believe in drastically lower personal and corporate taxes, minimal social services for the needy, and much less oversight of industry—especially environmental regulation.

This morning before church I caught an ad for Brawny paper towels on TV.  The music for the ad?  ”Lean on Me.”  As in, “Lean on me, when you’re not strong.”  Are the Koch brothers volunteering their personal fortune as a substitute for government-provided social services?