Seeing the Elephant

Imagine standing in a small room with a massive elephant. You couldn’t ignore it—yet so often in our lives, there are “elephants” that everyone sees but no one wants to talk about. These issues are obvious, yet we look the other way, pretending they don’t exist.

One such elephant is how we often approach compassion and responsibility.

In Luke 10:25–37, Jesus tells the well-known parable of the Good Samaritan. It begins with a religious expert questioning Jesus: “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

Jesus turns the question back to him: “What is written in the Law? How do you read it?" The man replies: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart… and love your neighbor as yourself.” But wanting to justify himself, the man asks, “And who is my neighbor?”

This question reveals something deeper. The man wasn’t looking to understand more—he was looking to limit his responsibility.

Comfortable Compassion

Too often, we ask God to use us—as long as it doesn’t interfere with our calendar, comfort, or calling.

Jesus introduces us to three people who encounter a wounded man on the road: a priest, a Levite, and a Samaritan. The first two see the man and pass by. The third—the Samaritan, someone from a group culturally despised by the Jewish people—stops and helps.

This parable challenges us to examine our own actions. Do we prioritize ritual over relationship? Are we religiously active but spiritually absent?

Real Compassion Gets Messy

Luke 10:33 says: “But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him.”

Compassion doesn’t stay clean. It kneels in the dirt. It requires presence, time, and sometimes even our resources.

Psalm 37:23–24 reminds us: “The steps of a man are established by the Lord... though he fall, he shall not be cast headlong, for the Lord upholds his hand.”

Compassion is rarely convenient. It often disrupts our plans and challenges our comfort zones. But this is the life God calls us to—one that chooses presence over distance, involvement over avoidance.

Bandages or Avoidance?

In verses 34–35, the Samaritan not only stops—he binds the man’s wounds, pours oil and wine on them, places him on his donkey, brings him to an inn, and pays for his care.

He doesn’t offer a quick blessing and move on. He stays. He shows that real compassion requires presence.

Many of us operate with compassion in “flight mode”—we’re present, but unreachable. We stop long enough to say we helped, but not long enough to make a difference.

Jesus didn’t perform a drive-by salvation. He stepped into our suffering, stayed, and served.

A Closer Look at the Samaritan’s Response

The details in this parable carry deep symbolic meaning:

• Oil – Represents the Holy Spirit. It brings healing, comfort, and consecration.
• Wine – A symbol of Christ’s blood. It cleanses, purifies, and forgives.
• Donkey – A picture of grace. Jesus doesn’t wait for us to be strong—He lifts us when we can’t lift ourselves.

“Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows…” — Isaiah 53:4

The Samaritan pays for the wounded man’s care and leaves the innkeeper with this assurance: “Look after him... and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.” This is the Gospel.

The Tab Is Still Open

Jesus didn’t just help us in a moment—He made a commitment. He paid in advance and promised to return.

No matter how long your healing takes, how messy your process seems, or how much you think it’s costing, Jesus says: “Put it on My tab.”

For every relapse. Every tear. Every time you fell again. The tab is still open.

A Challenge for the Church

This parable ends with an invitation to act:

• To the Innkeeper (the Church): Will you care for who Jesus brings in, even if it costs more than expected?
• To the Carriers (Believers): Who are you carrying that needs more than a moment—they need a commitment?
• To the Wounded (All of Us): You are not a burden. You are being restored. Your bill has already been paid.

Philippians 1:6 reminds us: “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” You may feel like your healing is taking too long or that you should be better by now. But Jesus is not frustrated with your process. His grace hasn’t run out—and He’s coming back to finish what He started.

The tab is still open. Grace is still flowing. And the work is not yet done.