by Phil Sanders

I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. (Phil. 4:12)

Last November my mother suffered a debilitating stroke, which left her unaware of her surroundings, unable to communicate, unable to eat, and bedfast. My wife Jackie and I rushed to the hospital in Norman, Oklahoma, and spent four days with her. She never knew we were there.

The doctors told us that she had 24 to 48 hours to live. We expected another stroke would take her life. In our crisis, we prayed that if she could not get well, the Lord would take her and save her from the life of a vegetable.

God was gracious and spared her life. In time she went to rehabilitation and to a nursing home that was prepared to continue her treatments. Today she is aware of all that goes on around her, and her memory is remarkable. With the aid of a walker she can go to the cafeteria on her own. She can use her hands and is able to talk on the phone.

Up until a few weeks ago, she was unable to eat. The Lord has restored that gift, and she is feeding herself hard food rather than enduring meals given through a tube to her stomach.

Through it all, mother has not complained. No pity parties, no "why me?" Remarkably, she has said, "God is so good to me."

God's grace, when we have borne our own thorns in the flesh, truly is sufficient (2 Cor. 12:7-10). Learning contentment is a matter of perspective. It is learning to count blessings rather than adapting a mindset of misery over what we do not have.

Contentment must be learned. We are not automatically given it. The key to contentment is in drawing close to God and in gratefully receiving what He grants us. Contentment always follows gratitude.

"God is so good to me."

by Warren Baldwin

"A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he fell into the hands of robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, took him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper. 'Look after him,' he said, 'and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.'"

This story comes from Luke 10 and is known as the Good Samaritan. And that raises an important question: Is there such a thing as a good Samaritan? Is such even possible? I ask that for two reasons.

One, in the previous chapter, in Luke 9:51-56, Jesus went into a Samaritan village. But the people in the village did not welcome him. This angered the disciples, and two of them, James and John, asked Jesus, "Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?" Obviously the disciples of Jesus did not see any redeeming qualities in a Samaritan! And obviously their attitude betrays something of their understanding of God: "God hates who we hate." They expected him to send the fire they called for! The Samaritans were worth nothing more than to burn them up! So how could Jesus, one chapter later, tell a story about a "good" Samaritan?

The second reason is, apart from the story of the disciples wanting to burn a Samaritan town, the general attitude of the disciples and Jews toward Samaritans. The Samaritans were a despised people. They were the result of intermarriages between Jews and Gentiles. So they were not fully Gentile nor fully Jewish, and the Jews felt a rather strong passion against them. The full-blooded Jews had some rather unsavory designations for the Samaritans. If they could use a term for them today they might say something like, "Those Palestinians" or "Those Iraqis."

Hey, lets use them for an example. Let's reframe this question or this parable and ask, "Could there be such a thing as a 'good Iraqi?'"

You know, I'm rather uncomfortable asking that question. Our passions have been incited against the Iraqis for some time now, haven't they? They've done all kinds of evil things against us -- or at least we know they want to. It's just a matter of time.

And if you are following me, that is exactly how the Jews and the disciples thought about the Samaritans. They hated them. The Samaritans hadn't exactly done anything to the Jews, but that didn't matter. Passionate hatred doesn't need a reason. Followers of Jesus were ready to burn an entire village -- men, women, children. But Jesus said, "No, you don't. That's not how I do business."

How does Jesus do business with people like Samaritans? Iraqis? Palestinians? Jews? Americans... if we give him a chance?

We have numerous examples. In John 4 he ministers to Samaritans and converts an entire village. And in the very next chapter of Luke, Luke 10, where we have the story of the Good Samaritan, Jesus commissions 72 of his followers to go out and do ministry to ANYONE that will welcome them. Including Samaritans?

And then immediately after the ministry episode we have the story or parable of the Good Samaritan. Mmmm. What is Jesus trying to communicate about our attitudes toward people?

Sandwiched around the story of ministry we have stories of Bad Samaritans and a Good Samaritan. And if that is not offensive enough to Jewish sensibilities, or to the sensibilities of people who claim to follow in Jesus' name, he says to the lawyers listening to his story: Now you go do ministry like the Samaritan. Not only does Jesus take away our pleasure of passionate hatred, he takes a member of an odious race, picks out a commendable trait or behavior of that person, and says, "Go be like him."

Jesus doesn't allow us to get caught up in the passions of our times, do you notice that?