People in our communities are, in fact, shopping for idols. They are looking for gods to satisfy their wants and desires.

People want ancillary idol assistance for weathering the storms of life. On the chance that they do visit the “tents of Shem” (Gen. 9:26-27), we must never forget that they bring their idolatry with them. Yet we should expect nothing less from our near and distant neighbors who have not come to know the life of God revealed in Jesus of Nazareth. These folks are the staple of good evangelism.

Reformed pastor Martin Bucer described the church as “the assembly and fellowship of those who are gathered from the world and united in Christ our Lord through His Spirit and word, to be a body and members of one another.” Recovering idol worshipers make up the communion of the saints. This is the bride of Christ, His chosen. A person who wants more than what Christ has established, however, does not want the community of faith but some extraordinary social experience.

Despite various imperfections, this assembly cares for the general good of every member. Therefore, in the context of community, Christ is experienced through the relationship of believers one to another, such that the fellowship of the saints is always active for the good of one another.

Strikingly, this imperfect community is only satisfied when others actively take part in her fellowship. Consequently, the living community, gathered from the world, perceives outreach to be the primary task. This community entrusted with the means of life, Word and sacrament. must be a hospital ready to treat the wounded, bind the broken, and carry the infirm. This recognition is the start of good evangelism.

My Dogmatic Slumber

After being called to serve in a rural community church, it didn’t take long for me to discover what most of the church meant by evangelism—sheep stealing. Building our church meant diminishing others. We did not recognize the wounded, the broken, and the infirm. Jesus described them as weary and scattered sheep having no shepherd. Some where along the way the church lost its identity as a hospital and started thinking of itself as a Christian social club. We were numb to the cries around us.

I often reflect on those years. And I have uncloaked the source of my acute deafness to the broken and weary. Shame fully, what I discovered was a lack of compassion in evangelism. I knew and believed the content of the gospel; I knew that Scripture was living and active, able to change lives and that it was for all people; but I did not live like it. Compassion was missing.

Compassion, biblical compassion, opens ears of clay and demands ministry. Compassion is not merely sympathy or good intention, and it is certainly not pity. Compassion means suffering with another. The parable of the good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37) taught me compassionate evangelism.

That parable is not simply an ongoing debate between Jesus and an impudent young lawyer over the question ‘What must I do to inherit eternal life?” It is more. It is a portrait of evangelism in vigorous colors. It is a beautiful pastel of the “good news” in act. It is the life of God revealed in Jesus of Nazareth and portrayed for a watching world.

The parable is about three men of faith and an opportunity to think and live compassionately. A man, probably a Jew, was traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho, a road notorious for its danger. He was violently attacked, robbed, and stripped naked and left for dead. There was little or nothing left to give him religious, ethnic, or social identity. He represents every person in need. He represents the staple of good evangelism. He is the weak, weary. and scattered sheep of the harvest (Matt, 9:36).

Thereafter, a priest, most certainly riding and therefore able to render the much needed care, saw him hut passed by on the other side of the road. The second passerby, a Levite, showed a similar lack of attention. He too saw the injured traveler by the roadside. He too did not render aid. This convicted me. I had been guilty of passing by on the other side of the road.

In Meadville last October a motorist struck a man. He was lying on the road bleeding from head injuries. The driver called out to the gathering crowd, “Is he all right? Because I have to go.”

I was no better. When I heard the cries of the wounded, the broken, and the infirm my response was the same. “Is he OK? Because I have to go.” The parable of the good Samaritan aroused me from my dogmatic slumber.

The third traveler, a Samaritan. had compassion on the wounded man. He went to him, touched him, poured ointments on his wounds, transported him on his animal, and took care of him. The point is simple; I must become a neighbor, an evangelist, to anyone in need in order to fulfill the second table of the 10 commandments. The parable demonstrates what compassionate evangelism demands of us. And it leaves us in no doubt over the possible personal cost. Anyone confronted with the magnitude of this parable can no longer yell from a distance, “Is he OK? Because I have to go.”

Compassion Builds Relationships

Convinced of the necessity to become an evangelistic neighbor, I discerned four lessons from the parable of the good Samaritan. First, compassion demands that we build relationships with the weary, the broken, and the infirm. The Samaritan saw the wounded traveler and entered into a relationship. We must be intentional about this work of building relationships. However, we are creatures of habit, creatures of comfort. Few people really enjoy the work of meeting new people especially when it may cost them. Nevertheless, Christian, this is your work!

When we first moved to Meadville I started going to the gym (Seminary had been hard on me). I staked out these hours as nip time and protected them by wearing a Sony Walkman. However, within weeks nip time had been con verted into ministry. I found people everywhere who wanted to be known and loved. They were weary and scattered, sheep having no shepherd.

The people I meet are not like me. Some have been to jail, others struggle with “legal” sins that are no less sinful, and some just have questions they couldn’t ask anyone else. I have become a friend to many of these people simply because I want to know them that I might love them.

Meaningful relationships produce additional relationships. Early last year a man I have known for 10 years started attending church. He was in trouble with the law and was to be sentenced in October. Due to his willingness to sub mit to the authority of the local church, I spoke at his sentencing. The judge was gracious, and we have an opportunity to evangelize. Furthermore, this relation ship produced another with a man who recently attempted suicide. He too is in trouble with the law. And he too has decided to place himself under church authority.

Are you intentionally meeting people? Are you looking for opportunities to build relationships? Is it your deepest desire to gather the world into the one body of Christ? Are you hearing the cries of the wounded, broken, and infirm? If not, you are not simply out of step with the divine will, but radically disobedient to the missionary mandate of the King.

Compassion Flows from Christ

Second, I learned that compassionate evangelism flows from a relationship with God in the Person and work of Jesus Christ. The parable of the good Samaritan points us to the heart of God. Early commentators identified the good Samaritan with Jesus. Kenneth Bailey writes, “The overtones of Christology are in the parable itself.…Is it not possible to touch something of Jesus’ own understanding of his ministry as God’s unique agent who comes as a suffering servant to save?” (Through Peasant Eyes, Eerdmans). Only God in Christ is able to pick up every wounded and broken traveler. Thus compassion is not a skill, a pro gram, or even a technique, but a ministry that rises out of a deep relationship with the Son. Only as partakers of Christ are we able to mend the wounded, bind the broken, and carry the infirm.

How is your relationship with God? Are you fasting and praying that God might give you evangelistic opportunities? Are you praying passages like John 14:12-13 or Matthew 16:18?

Compassion Changes Priorities

Third, I learned that compassion means rearranging priorities. The Samaritan had a destination. That all changed. His trip was postponed, his timetable was out the window, and his funds were rerouted. He rearranged his priorities.

Recently a man just out of prison came to the YWCA while I was helping with our children’s program. He needed food and a ride. He wanted us to change our priorities for him, and we did. Another brother took my place with the children and I fed him, bought him a bus pass, and told him the story of Jesus. How often do you change your priorities when you see someone beaten up by the world? If you are not willing to make time for them, who will?

Compassion Means Presence

Finally, compassion is a ministry of presence. For the injured man the Samaritan put flesh on the second table of the law, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” He embodied the commandment. His was a ministry of presence.

During WWI1 an American battleship went down, producing a major oil spill. The oil and salt created an abysmal grave for most of the sailors. Others grew more dehydrated by the day. Only then did the sharks come, The men lost all hope. However, before long an American plane spotted them, and they were saved.

On the night of the rescue, the sky was a black veil, As the rescuers lifted the water logged men into the rescue boat their muscles separated from the bone producing hideous shrieks in the night. Every man was terrified. At that moment the captain made a courageous decision. He turned on the huge floodlight and aimed it at the sky. He put their position at risk in order to give the assurance of their presence to men afraid in the dark.

How long has it been since you have been a presence of hope to weak and scattered sheep? When was the last time you came alongside the weary, the broken, or the infirm? There are no excuses. Ignoring the missionary mandate is disobedience. Christian, you are the only floodlight in this world. Shine!