Good Samaritan

The Samaritans, are an ethnic niche of Jews who claim to be the only true Hebrews, practicing the original form of the Jewish religion, predating the construction of the Temple of Solomon. They claim to predate the modern day Israelites and that the Israelite form of Judaism is inauthentic. The parable of the "Good Samaritan" comes oddly enough from the New Testament, as seen in the Gospel of Luke when Christ heals ten lepers and the only one who returns to worship God is a Samaritan. John tells the story of a woman of Sychar who fetches water for Jesus, she is a Samaritan. Strangely, a very anti-Samaritan attitude is also taken in these same texts when in Matthew, Christ forbids his disciples to visit any Samaritan city. In Luke the Samaritans deny Christ and his fold any hospitality due to their unwillingness to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and in John again Christ is accused of being a demon-possessed Samaritan. Indeed, in Christ's time there was a great deal of prejudice against this small and reclusive caste of peoples.

Okay so what's the point? I just think it's interesting to take a moment to look back at where such hum-drum colloquialisms originate. It can in many ways shed new light on the act one typically associates with the expression. I suppose it can also make it even more confusing, considering the very mixed messages we are left to interpret, at least from the Christian perspective. Christ, of course, preached that actions speak louder that words or identity, and no matter who you are you are capable of love and compassion and receiving both. The example being relevant to that period in history, was perfectly exhibited by using a Samaritan, because apparently everybody hated them. So a "good" Samaritan was an ironic impossibility according to the social norms of the time. So does that mean that if I simply "do a good deed" I can consider myself a "good Samaritan"? Or does it have to be something I never would have considered doing, or out of my normal character, changing myself eternally based on the quality and selflessness of whatever I did? Or both? Of course the Buddhist perspective sheds a very different light on the matter of doing "good deeds" in that in order for good Karma to be achieved it cannot be recognized, acknowledged or even associate awareness of having been a "good deed". Karma doesn't count if you do it to get Karma, or if you even consider that what you did is something to be proud of or happy about. Therefore, I would say, it must be totally in step with your character, which is, of course, the rough ashlar of the Buddhist mind and the ultimate medium of refinement. One's character must be carefully refined and tempered in order that good Karma may be accumulated selflessly by following the Dharma.

What it all comes down to, is a short series (more of a pair) of peculiar happenings which affected my morning jog. I had just finished copying the harp cadenza of Andre Previn's harp concerto, which I was hired to do by Gretchen Van Hoesen, principal harpist of the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra (subject for another blog, another time). To reward myself, and since I had not yet showered, I decided to go out for a jog to beat my distance from Monday's jog. As an aside, with the cold weather and busy school work, I've been off jogging for a few months, so this past week I've been slowly building up my strength and stamina to average about 5 miles per trip (with longer ones interspersed). I have been using this website to plot the mileages and find routes. So Monday I made it 3.44 miles in about 30 minutes, and decided I would settle for no less than 4 miles this morning. I set out and jogged down to Wilkins, then took a left and made it up Beeler to CMU's campus before turning around and jogging back to Wilkins. I turned up Wilkins and decided I would go all the way to Shady and go back home through town. Well, I was a bit fatigued, so I ended up walking about half the route, and just as I was coming up on the street I cross over to my street on, I heard rapid footsteps approaching behind me.

I could tell they were frantic "I'm running away" footsteps because of the weight with which the footstepee pounded on those metal cellar doors that are in the street. I instinctively stood aside to be passed by a rather timid looking middle aged man, balding, in a shin length green down coat. He seemed to be running to catch the bus, but whizzed right by the bus stop, disrupting the people who were waiting there. Shortly thereafter, a second man, in a shirt and tie, with cell phones strapped to his belt (thinking back, he looked like a Radio Shack employee, which has a store in some close proximity to the scene of the event) went bounding after him. There was something very comedic about watching these two out of shape men chasing and being chased. Quickly I realized that the green coat guy had stolen something from the cell phone guy (Radio Shack?) and as they rounded the corner Cell Phone demanded "Give me back my stuff!" and Green Coat just sort of feebly looked behind him, fear in his eyes, as though he were being chased by a very unathletic army tank and started dropping blue plastic packages out of his pockets onto the side walk. A colorful crowd of typical denizens from the neighborhood gathered at the intersection as Cell Phone and Green Coat ran up a sleepy side street weaving in and out of parked cars and Cell Phone kept shouting "All of it, you asshole!"

Some old grandma turned to her husband with "well he should just let him go,"

"Yea, probably give himself a heart attack tryin' ta catch 'im" grandpa supplied.

So what it comes to at this point, is this sudden weird urge I have brought on by my disgust at beholding the pathetic sight of this sad man - really if you could have seen his face, oof - stealing telephone cables or whatever from Radio Shack and the intensity of the pursuit and how rabidly the victim was protecting his turf. I found myself battling mentally trying to decide whether I should run after the guy and beat him up, heroically returning the $25 worth of stereo cable to Cell Phone and disappearing like Batman, or just shake my head sadly and mope home whistling Vince Guaraldi's Christmas theme from Peanuts. I imagined my exact attack so vividly that it actually shocked me, so I watched the action a bit more and shook my head sadly and kept walking home pondering why these things happen.

A block down the road, I was snapped out of my thoughtful haze by an annoying beeping sound emanating from an ATM machine. I stopped in my tracks, backed up a few feet and read the screen:

"Do you need more time?"

Without thinking twice, I pushed "NO" and some woman's ATM card came popping out. Luckily, the bank itself housed the ATM machine, so i walked in to the bank (mind you, I had not yet showered and just ran 3.7 miles, so I must have looked a fright!) and handed the card to the little blond haired man behind the teller window who drew a nervous smile and stuttered something like "can I help you?" (I'm sure he was hitting on me... but maybe I'm flattering myself?). I said in a low tenor "someone left that in the ATM machine" and turned and walked out as he called out "thanks..."

So in reflection, as exciting as it would have been to trample a thief in action and recover stolen property, I had my chance to do a good deed just as the disappointment in missing one was setting in, rescuing some anonymous woman's ATM card from the same brand of thievery that helped the Radio Shack guy burn 5 pounds of stagnation off his day.

Observation: writing this blog negates my chance at achieving Karma, but can I still be a good Samaritan? Or do I want to be?