The Good Samaritan and the Tipping Point

In his book, The Tipping Point, Malcom Gladwell tells of an expirement into the context in which someone would help someone else in need that used a retelling of The Good Samaritan as the context and then created a fake scenario in which someone needed help. They found that the telling of the story mattered less than those conducting the study thought it might:

Some years ago two Princeton University psychologists, John Darley and Daniel Batson, decided to conduct a study inspired by the biblical story of the Good Samaritan. As you may recall, that story, from the New Testament Gospel of Luke, tells of a traveler who has been beaten and robbed and left for dead by the side of the road from Jerusalem to Jericho. Both a priest and a Levite—worthy, pious men—came upon the man but didn’t stop, “passing by the on the other side.” The only man to help was a Samaritan—the member of a despised minority—who “went up to him and bound up his wound” and took him to an inn. Darley and Batson decided to replicate that study at the Princeton Theological Seminary. This was an experiment very much in the tradition of the FAE, and it is an important demonstration of how the Power of Context has implication for the way we think about social epidemics of all kind, not just violent crime.

Darley and Batson met with a group of seminarians, individually, and asked each one to prepare a short, extemporaneous talk on a given biblical theme, then walk over to a nearby building to present it. Along the way to the presentation, each student ran into a man slumped in an alley, head down, eyes closed, coughing and groaning. The question was, who would stop and help? Darley and Batson introduced three variables into the experiment, to make its results more meaningful. First, before the experiment even started, they gave the students a questionnaire about why they had chosen to study theology. Did they see religion as a means for personal and spiritual fulfillment? Or were the looking for a practical tool for find meaning in everyday life? Then they varied the subject of the theme the students were asked to talk about. Some were asked to speak on the relevance of the professional clergy to the religious vocation. Others were given the parable of the Good Samaritan. Finally, the instruction given by the experimenters to each student varied as well. In some of the cases, as he sent the students on their way, the experimenter would look at his watch and say, “Oh, you’re late. They were expecting you a few minutes ago. We’d better get moving.” In other cases, he would say, “It will be a few minutes before they’re ready for you, but you might as well head over now.”

If you ask people to predict which seminarians played the Good Samaritan (and subsequent studies have done just this) their answers are highly consistent. They almost all say that the students who entered the ministry to help people and those reminded of the importance of compassion by having just read the parable of the Good Samaritan will be the most likely to stop. Most of us, I think, would agree with those conclusions. In fact, neither of those factors made any difference. “It is hard to think of a context in which norms concern helping those in distress are more salient than for a person thinking about the Good Samaritans, and yet it did not significantly increase helping behavior,” Darley and Batson concluded. ”Indeed, on several occasions, a seminary student going to give his talk on the parable of the Good Samaritan literal stepped over the victim as he hurried on this way.” The only thing that really mattered was whether the student was in a rush. Of the group that was, 10 percent stopped to help. Of the group who knew they had a few minutes to spare, 63 percent stopped.

What this study is suggesting, in other words, is that the convictions of your heart and the actual contents of your thoughts are less important, in the end, in guiding your actions than the immediate context of your behavior. The words “Oh, you’re late” had the effect of making someone who was ordinarily compassionate into someone who was indifferent to suffering—of turning someone, in that particular moment, into a different person.

—pages 163-166 of Malcolm Gladwell's, The Tipping Point

It reminds me of an earlier post in which Brother Richard Carter of the Melanesian Brotherhood told of a boy who didn't want to pass by even though it was just a play: I don't want to walk past.

Compassion and mercy

In this weekend's Gospel reading, Jesus tells the parable of The Good Samaritan. It's a story so famous we even have Good Samaritan laws to protect those who lend aid to others. I once preached on this passage saying in part,

The Samaritan comes near to the injured man and when he saw him, he was moved with pity.

Here’s where I have to get a little technical again. I’m sorry, but without it, you just don’t get the full impact of the story. The Greek word for moved with pity is “Splanchnisomai.” It sounds kinda funny when I say it, “Splanchnisomai.” But when Jesus said it, I bet no one was laughing. You see that splanchnisomai is a special word. It’s sort of a theological word as it was reserved to describe the compassion and mercy God has for us. It is a common Biblical word for God’s compassion and mercy. But splanchnisomai is a rare word indeed otherwise. In fact, only Jesus ever uses it to describe human action. Everybody else reserved the word for God alone. Now Jesus has the nerve to say that a dirty rotten scoundrel like a Samaritan can show God-like compassion for someone in need. If that’s not shocking, it should be. Of course, the story doesn’t stop there. It just gets worse. The good for nothing Samaritan risks his own safety, spends his own money and a good deal of time to make sure that the Israelite who was beaten by bandits is taken care of. While the crowd is still trying to sort out the images Jesus has tossed together, Jesus asks the lawyer, “Which one of the three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” The no-doubt dumfounded legal expert said, “the one who showed him mercy.” There it is again, Mercy. The Samaritan was moved by mercy, showed mercy to the injured man and was his neighbor.

But don’t you see, the story is inside out. It started out with who’s my neighbor. That equation starts with me, or in your case you and works outward. For a good person the concentric circle stretch out farther and farther. You not only include your close family and friends, but can be neighborly to people you don’t even know. That’s just great, but Jesus works the equation the other direction. Jesus starts with the person in need and says the person who is closest is the neighbor. If you see a need, if you know of a need, then you are a neighbor. In fact you may be the nearest neighbor and the one God is looking to to express that Godly compassion and mercy.

The full text of the sermon is online here: The Nearest Neighbor.

peace,
Frank+
The Rev. Frank Logue, Pastor