It was the first day of a young seminarian’s rotation in hospital ministry. He was assigned to two surgical floors where he would be the only chaplain available for patients and families who would be facing matters of life and death.

Things went well until he came to the room of a woman who had just undergone surgery. According to the seminarian’s list, she and her husband were Greek Orthodox. The student chaplain stopped at the door to her room and saw that she was sleeping. Her husband came to the door.

“Is there anything I can do?” the seminarian asked.

Without hesitation he said, “You can stay away from my wife and not bother either of us.”

The young chaplain was taken back but nodded quietly and moved on down the hall. The seminarian realized he was on the receiving end of some bad experience that this couple had had with clergy. He reminded himself that he personally wasn’t rejected but what he represented to this family.

As the novice chaplain made his daily rounds, he would look in on them as he slowly walked by their room. Then one day a week later, he saw the husband sitting in the hallway outside his wife’s room. A nurse told the seminarian that his wife had just died and the man’s daughters were on the way. The student — who would go on to ordination and a life in parish ministry — remembers:

“I gently approached him and asked him if I could sit down beside him. As he looked up to nod acceptance, tears were rolling down his face. I sat down, and tears came to my eyes too. He might still consider me the enemy, but I couldn’t leave him to sit alone. After about 20 minutes I asked him if he wanted to pray. To my surprise, he nodded yes and bowed his head. I prayed out loud. ‘Lord and Maker of us all,’ I began. To my surprise he repeated my words. He must have been following a tradition from his faith experience. I chose my words of prayer carefully, knowing that I would hear them back again. When the prayer was finished he reached over and shook my hand. We didn’t say anything else but continued to sit together.”

On our life’s journey, we do not travel alone. We are all companions on this adventure to the life of God. As “neighbours” to one another, we are called to lift one another up, to seek what is good for one another, to forgive one another for situations we handle badly — and allow ourselves to be caught and lifted up by others when we stumble and fall, as well. Christ calls his disciples to look beyond what divides and focus on what unites; to put aside our own needs and wants to embrace the needs of others; to use our own resources as a means for bringing healing and hope into the lives of those in despair and crisis.

The Good Samaritan is the epitome of Gospel charity, the embodiment of the Gospel vision of humanity as a community of everyone — male and female, rich and poor, able and challenged — sharing the same sacred dignity as daughters and sons of the God of all that is good.