It is Easter Break in 1971, and Eddie Lynch and I decide to go into New
York City for the day. After taking the train from Fanwood to the Port
Authority, we make our way up to Madison Square Garden. It is warm, sunny, and
almost lunch time, so we are looking for a place to eat lunch. When suddenly
while standing on a corner waiting for the light to turn green, a black man
steps out from behind a news stand, breaks a bottle against a light post, and
hits me in the face with it! I block the next two punches, cutting my arm, and
we chase him down into the subway, as he just gets into a subway car, running
past a cop as the doors close. He gets away, as the cop turns to me and says
"you're bleeding pretty bad, you better get help!" Then does nothing as we tell
him of the attack. He yells down to another of NYPD's finest, who grabs a
different black guy, who has no idea of what is going on, and then is released
when we again tell how the man got on a train. And got away!
We are walking up the steps to the street, and blood is really pouring out
of my face now. I mean pouring out, and running down my face in streams. I was
hit in the left cheek, and would later have two cuts of over an inch long sewn
up, along with a hole in my nose repaired. But as we stood on the street
corner, me bleeding profusely, it took 45 minutes for me to go three blocks by
ambulance, once one showed up. Never saw one cop, and of the hundreds of people
on the corner-thousands must have passed by, it was lunch time, one woman
finally grabbed a bunch of tissues from a box and handed them to me. While the
others gawked, then looked away, not even offering simple assistance for the
bleeding. Then off to the French Polytechnic Clinic, where a woman doctor sewed
me up. And you wonder why I hate Hew York?
So when Danny taught this last weekend on the good Samaritan, I could
associate with the guy who was beaten. And how many passed by not even offering
assistance. I was like a wreck on the freeway that morning, just an
interruption, causing people to stop, look, and then complain about me holding
up their schedule. Like it was fault. Sorry! I still bear the scars from that
day, it is the ones that don't show that I remember the most. The other ones
are there anytime I am in front of a mirror.
I used to say that no one cares, and I was wrong. We all care, it is only
about ourselves and no one else we care about. How many times do we complain
when we are stuck in a traffic jam because of an accident, cursing the poor
victim, and never showing them compassion? It is all about us, a fact that a
few summers back while riding in Oregon with Frank we were reminded of. An
asphalt truck had overturned, closing the freeway, and causing us to double
back, and take some back roads. God showed us a beautiful view of the Columbia
River Gorge, with a bi-plane flying in it, at our level on the the cliff. We
talked all day about it, until God showed me how He gave this to us, despite our
cursing of the tar truck. And we are nice people! We stop for others! What
does that tell us about our hearts? And about God's mercy and grace? Why
didn't we stop and pray for that trucker?
Too often we react as we did, and need to react as the good Samarian did.
He gave the only thing that we can never get repaid-his time. And even extended
it, in love, to cover further expenses. How ironic we see the love of Christ
extended to an innkeeper, when the night our Lord was born there was no room at
the inn. Only a barn for our Lord to be born in. Love doesn't take into
account past wrongs, it just loves. Just like Jesus told the lawyer-love God
with all your heart, and your neighbor as yourself. We don't know how many
Jesus was addressing in the crowd that day, but perhaps hundreds were
listening. Church folk, who may have come to hear Him, or were just there for
whoever spoke. But then I wonder, in Matthew 25, how many may have been there
that day, who were there the day Jesus told this parable. Could they be the
same ones that Jesus explained to who their neighbor was, who then told them He
never knew them, because they failed to love the least of them? How would you
have reacted? How do you react? But God, "he made me late. I had my new suit
on. He was homeless. I hate hospitals." And the worst, "it's their problem,
they probably deserved it." Who really is he least of them in God's eyes?
Jesus said "whoever does these things to the least of them, does them for
Me!" Do we pray for the accident victim tying up traffic? His day is certainly
worse than ours. Do we offer to sit with a homeless man, rather than have him
evicted from a burger joint? Will we submit to being treated like we are in
jail, so we can visit those inside? Can you give me a drink? Can you stop by
the hospital? Can you even hand me some tissues when I'm bleeding? Can you
stand before Christ and say you really love Him, when you hate those made in His
image?
Through one man sin entered the world. And through one man, we are offered
an escape route from it. Jesus, The only way to God. I was fortunate that day,
I only have scars. And I hate New York. Earlier that day another man had been
hit, the same way, at the same corner. Only he had nerves in his face damaged.
I can smile today, despite circumstances. I wonder if he can? Use the precious
commodity of time to minister to others. Money is nice, but is a poor
substitute for a hug. You will always get another paycheck, but you cannot
replace time. Jesus knows that, that is why eternity is so precious to us. It
will more than pay for the times wasted on earth. And will reward us for using
our time wisely for Him.
Do you say you care? Now is the time to show it. Be patient. It leads to
salvation. Pray for those who are slow, or broken down. You could be there
yourself. We reap what we sew. Sew love, and you shall reap love. Lord,
please bless the woman who helped me that day. I am thankful for her. Help us
to remember, Jesus took the time to die for us, can we take the time and live
for Him?
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com