Tuesday, February 24, 2009

The Good Seminarian

“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.

They 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.

In some cases, as the experimenter sent the students on their way, he 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.”

And what were the results? Shockingly, Darley and Batson concluded:

“It is hard to think of a context in which norms concerning helping those in distress are more salient... and yet it did not significantly increase helping behavior. Indeed, on several occasions, a seminary student going to give his talk on the parable of the Good Samaritan literally stepped over the victim as he hurried on his 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.”

(Malcolm Gladwell, The Tipping Point.)

It’s mind-boggling, isn’t it? As theologian after theologian passed briskly through that alley, they lifted their polished business shoes over a groaning body-- and continued rehearsing their speeches on the Good Samaritan’s love. How could a group of zealous Bible scholars imitate the Levite and Pharisee while meditating on Christ’s piercing words against the very same hypocrisy?

Then again, maybe it isn’t so amazing. When the test came, those Bible scholars acted no differently than I often do. Why else would James 1:22 warn us against deceiving ourselves by being hearers of the Word only?

Talking about biblical truths is the easy part; action is costly. Writing a speech or a post, for instance, isn't necessarily a crucifixion of my sinful flesh. The real test for me will come in a few minutes, when I step into the kitchen and resume unseen interaction with my family.

Christ did not say, “Whoever has my commands and can teach them eloquently, he it is who loves Me.” He did not say, “Whoever has my commands, memorizes them, wins awards in Awana, and reads deep theological expositions—he it is who loves Me.” No.

“Whoever has my commands and keeps them, he it is who loves me.” Do you?