Take care of them; there is enough

THE PARABLE of the Good Samaritan is one of those stories that has endured far beyond its original context, far beyond religion itself. Someone is robbed, assaulted and left for dead.

The parable names names. The equivalent of political and community leaders, who should know better, pass by on the other side of the street. A Samaritan, someone of questionable standing in the community, stops and helps. The only person who isn’t identified is the one beaten. He could be any of us. It is a powerful call to compassion and not turning away.

Something that is rarely, if ever, mentioned is that the Samaritan brings the person along with him to an inn where they stay the night. In the morning, the Samaritan must be on his way and so says to the innkeeper, “Take care of him and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.”

I know many who try to live out the Samaritan ethic. We roll down our windows at an intersection with some spare change. We hand out water during a heat wave.

We donate to individuals and to charities. Yet more and more people lay on our streets assaulted by the hardships of life and robbed by an economic system that encourages and enables the haves to have more.

The personal ethic of reaching out can be almost entirely negated if we pay no attention to the second half of this parable, namely that there is a place for those struggling to rest up and heal.

Even if we wanted to bring someone along to be cared for, where exactly should we go? Health care and social services are underfunded and overworked.

Roman occupation, when Jesus spoke this parable, was no democracy and you could hardly advocate for greater social support. Canada is not Rome, I hope.

However, under capitalism it appears that democracy ends where private wealth begins. Do many of us stop to ask why? Should democracy not also extend to the sharing of resources for the sake of collective well-being?

We continue to accept that wealth should be immune from democracy and yet all wealth ultimately comes from the Earth and our labour.

Should democracy not also defend some common share in what the Earth provides? The history of capitalism demonstrates that it grows wealth through claiming and privatizing more and more common spaces and services so that even the basic opportunities of subsistence become impossible for many.

While Jesus’ parables named religious leaders who should know better, today we see the wealthy and political leaders, hand in hand, opting to avoid those left for dead.

Keep them out of certain neighbourhoods and off certain streets, rendering these lives not only neglected but targeted as illegal. And if there are too many, indeed on both sides of the street, then send the police.

To whom is our elected government accountable, the wealthy or the weak?

What is the metric of our health as a society, the unlimited right to private profit or the right to basic supports?

We see the answer in social service budget cuts and policies that benefit the wealthy. We see the answer in the wealthy prioritizing never-ending reinvestment for maximized returns. As a society, as a democracy, we are being robbed by a dictatorship of private wealth.

I enjoy living in the West End because of how inclusive it is, even if you have little to no money there will hopefully be some options for you.

Where, for the most part, you won’t be picked up by the police simply for having no place to go. I’m happy to share some change, some food, a smoke with someone who asks.

But these are not “rough patches,” in which I am helping people dust themselves off and be on their way. They have no place to go. Many are left for dead. And they could be any of us.

These situations are not the tragic result of personal failures but an indictment of our democracy. Can we begin to value the needs of the whole about the luxuries of the few? In a healthy society we are all called to be Good Samaritans but a collection of individuals is not enough.

While many households and neighbourhoods are struggling economically, the excessive abundance of others is an affront to our democracy.

Dear mayor, premier and prime minister, do not cross the street to avoid the problem.

We are doing what we can, now take care of them. There is enough.

David Driedger lives and works in Winnipeg’s West End where he is leading minister of First Mennonite Church.