Barbara Johnson once wrote a little parable, a play on Jesus' story of the Good Samaritan. It goes something like this:

A man fell into a pit and couldn't get himself out.

A subjective person came along and said, "I feel for you down there."
An objective person said, "It's logical that someone would fall down there."
A mathematician calculated how he fell into the pit.
A news reporter wanted an exclusive story on his pit.
An IRS agent asked if he was paying taxes on the pit.
A self-pitying person said, "You haven't seen anything until you've seen my pit."
An optimist said, "Things could be worse."
A pessimist said, "Things will get worse."

Then Jesus came along. Seeing the man, he took him by the hand and lifted him out of the pit.

If I'm honest, I've been more than a few of those voices. I've felt sorry from a distance. I've analyzed. I've offered cheerful advice from up at the top.

Notice what all of those voices have in common. They stay at the edge. They talk down into the pit.

Only one of them reaches in.

The psalmist knew what that felt like from the bottom: "He drew me up from the desolate pit, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure." (Psalm 40:2)

That's how it starts for all of us. Someone reached in for us first.

So today, may you notice who's down in the pit near you. And may you be willing to kneel at the edge, reach down, and offer your hand.

Our prayer today was written by Alan Paton, the South African author of Cry, the Beloved Country, who took a courageous stand against racism.

Prayer: Help me, O Lord, to be more loving. Help me, O Lord, not to be afraid to love the outcast, the leper… the man in prison. Help me, by my love, to restore the faith of the disillusioned, the disappointed, the early bereaved. Help me, by my love, to be the witness to your love. And may I, this coming day, be able to do some work of peace for you. Amen.

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