A Letter from Lindy July 10

Beloved Pilgrims,

It is always a challenge when in our go go culture we are told to slow down, or worse, stop and be still  for whatever the circumstances. So is this week for your pastor after a MOHS procedure on my face. I was instructed to “take it easy” for the week if possible. At minimum until the compresses came off 48 hours post-surgery, which has yet to come. I’m not allowed to bend over; pick up anything over 10 lbs; exercise;  and worse–no shower lest I get my face wet. With no hand off, Luna still needs her daily constitutional, even if I need to abbreviate it just to get her business done. With serious compression packing across a part of my face, my neighbors (even those I don’t know) stop to ask what happened. I’m working on not finding them annoying, which is a far cry from loving them as myself. I keep telling myself that pain does a funny thing to one’s heart, so as to offer myself a little grace for falling far short of Jesus’ expectation of his followers. 

I wonder if I’m finding myself in the story in the wrong person. What if I’m the person lying in the ditch in need of care and compassion? (which I most certainly am ;) What if I’m looking up at the passers-by on the way who stop with a question with a bit of stink-eye? Hearing their query as intrusive rather than genuine concern. Implicit within their words, even if not perfectly framed, perhaps they are wondering how they might come to my aid. Waiting for my permission to take that next step. Who knows whether the Samaritan and injured one had conversation? Just because it wasn’t expounded upon by Jesus doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Maybe just a detail Jesus left out of his listeners to ponder and imagine.

As most of us do not find ourselves unconscious when in need of assistance, it might be helpful for us all to look at the story of the Good Samaritan from the plentitude of perspectives that abound. For as Dr. Amy-Jill Levine reminds, that is precisely what Jesus’ stories are meant to do–invite us to explore the multitude of questions that arise, rather than seek finite, concrete answers. As if we can somehow put the expanse of Divine Mystery’s dance with humanity in a box.

I hope you will wonder with me.

Pastor Lindy (she/her) why pronouns matter
 
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