Monday Rewrite As the priest and the Levite were slipping away into the distance, kicking up dust with their hurrying, a Samaritan came that way. He was a soldier, on his way to work. And as such was on a tight schedule. He slowed as he heard the sound of a cry. Stopped and looked around. There was a pile of blood-soaked clothes by the road. A heap of red mulch and brown dirt. He shook his head and hurried on. Then the cry came again, this time weaker, as if life was leaving something or someone. He looked back. Took a step closer. Then he saw the face, a tapestry of welts and bruises masking the signs of humanity. His heart softened, he moved over. This injured man was surely a Jew, the only Samaritans on the road would be soldiers like himself. Hmm. There was a wall of hostility between him and this victim. He glanced up at the sun, time moving on, what to do what to do. He gave in. Pulled out some ointment to clean the wounds. Then he felt the hand. On his shoulder. He looked around. A woman. Sick. Needing a shoulder to lean on. She fell and he caught her in his arms just in time. He stepped away from the wounded man and carried her to his donkey. Laid her across it. She was in a terrible state. Thin, a long time since a good meal filled her body. He glanced back at the man by the roadside. Looked to the sky and said a prayer. Then he hurried the woman along, found an inn and took her inside. Paid for her to eat and sleep and wash. As he came outside he spotted a few locals hanging about, pointing, muttering. A Samaritan in town. What’s he think he’s doing here? The Samaritan hurried on. Back to the man. The sun moving all the time in that sky. Time ticking away. Late late late. He found the beaten body. Barely breathing now. Just a faint rasp. He knelt and did his best to wash and bind the terrible wounds. Should he have wasted that time helping the woman? This man may not make it now. And he might lose his job whatever happens. Certainly be punished for being absent so long. He bundled the man onto the faithful donkey. Steered him into town and back to the inn. More money laid down, more help paid for. And outside, as the Samaritan stranger emerges, there is now a crowd. Brandishing clenched fists and snarled insults.
Drawing on Luke 10 v 25 & Luke 8 v 40-56
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