who needs you?

This afternoon there was a 5.8 magnitude aftershock in Christchurch, followed later by a 6.0 quake, and further smaller ones as well. Dust rose into the sky from the already severely damaged Cathedral. Luckily there was no major damage in the city, but there was plenty of damage all the same. I watched footage filmed in a supermarket. The shelves shaking, the signage swinging, sirens going off, and people screaming. I cried - I couldn't help it. It was too much. Humans can't suffer that level of panic and stress for as long as the people of Christchurch have without it becoming debilitating. The Mayor, who is cutting short a holiday to return to the city, described people sitting on the ground and crying.

Cantabrians have left the city in droves. They've left temporarily and they've left permanently. More would leave, I'm sure, if they weren't stuck with a house that's impossible to sell, or weren't in the middle of negotiations and arrangements regarding insurance and re-building. The aftermath, which must seem now like it will be unending, is complicated and heartbreaking.

There are people who are choosing to go to Christchurch. There are builders and plumbers and engineers who are filling the gaps in the pivotal building industry. The re-build is far from smooth, it's not even a work in progress in many places. And then there are the people, like a friend of mine, who feel that this needy city is exactly where they need to be. I take my hat off to them.

But leaving is one of the sanest options available to Cantabrians right now. It goes against all instinct for survival to stay. We should be doing whatever we can to make it possible for those who need to leave to leave as quickly as possible. Could landlords in other cities offer a month's free rent to those re-locating? Could people offer their homes and holiday homes to those in need of a holiday somewhere where the ground is firm, as happened so generously after the February quake? Could employers make an effort to interview prospective employees from Christchurch? Could the government create a short term transitional unemployment benefit specifically for people wanting to move out of Christchurch to other parts of the country? Could the government set up a task force that would go about the business of re-building people's lives, not just their houses? Why not?

I read "The Little Engine that Could" to Abigail tonight at bedtime. It's an old Golden Book that was on the bookshelf at home when I was a child. The story was too long for her to keep up with, so I was skipping bits, but it brought back so many memories. The little engine with it's carriages filled with treasures is stuck. It can't go any further. A shiny, haughty engine drives past and refuses to help; a big, self-important engine refuses to help. An old tired and rusty engine is sure he can't help. Eventually the Little Blue Engine, who thinks so little of himself, saves the day. He chugs to himself  "I think I can I think I can I think I can" and makes it over the hill.


It occurred to me for the first time that this is a re-telling of Jesus' parable of the Good Samaritan. In that story, a man has been robbed and beaten and lies dying on the side of the road. Several people see him but walk to the other side of the road to avoid him. We all understand this. Sometimes it's just easier not to get involved. Finally a Samaritan, an outcast, takes the man to an inn and pays for his full recovery. The story comes from a question asked of Jesus by a lawyer, "Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?"

Jesus answers the lawyer's question straight from the Torah, the Jewish book of Law. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind. And your neighbour as yourself." Which means, in a nutshell, love and look after others in the same way as you love and look after yourself. But the lawyer, obviously on the look-out for a loophole, asks "Who is my neighbour?" And so the story of the Good Samaritan is born. Jesus' message is clear; your neighbour is the one who needs you.

There was another desperately sad story in the news today. A five year old girl was viciously attacked in a camping ground near Taupo on Wednesday night. The Mayor of the Taupo District has reacted strongly, demanding to know why "our forbears got rid of the death penalty."  He clearly thinks the offender is scum and doesn't deserve to live. That precious five-year old whose life has been changed forever is my neighbour, no question. But the offender? Who is his neighbour?

We don't want to think we are like the shiny self-important engine, too important and shiny to help, but sometimes we are. It's easy to be like the big busy engine, with other, better things to do. And we let ourselves off the hook too easily when we think like the tired engine,  I really can't.  But we can all be the little blue engine. If we think we can.


My closest neighbour tonight is Abigail. She came out in chicken pox yesterday, two days before Christmas. She is covered in spots and pretty miserable, and she's sitting on the table next to me right now scratching her head and looking at photos on my phone. I'll take her to bed with me soon and we'll try to sleep. I don't really have any other option, I'm her mother. But the thing is that we usually meet the needs that are closest to us. It's the needs that aren't so close that we often ignore.

If there was one thing that Jesus understood, and he wasn't the only great teacher to get this, it is that we are all connected. When you hurt, I hurt, somewhere along the way. We think we can live our own separate lives, keeping those close who we choose to keep close, and excluding those we choose to exclude, but it's simply not true. We will sit at our tables on Christmas day and we will all eat well and starve, in the same breath.