'Go and Do Likewise' - Thanksgiving for the NHS

Sermon by the Revd Dr Brutus Green
Readings: Ecclesiasticus 38:1-9, Psalm 91, Revelation 22:1-5, Luke 10:29-37

Why did Jesus teach in parables? It was because the law was no longer protecting people, or helping people to make good decisions, to be good people. Jesus taught that you cannot have hard-and-fast moral rules. That good decisions, good actions, are contextual. We have to understand the situation, the people involved, the story, in order to know what the right thing to do is. If the computer says ‘no’ – throw the computer out the window.

Today’s Gospel is the parable of the Good Samaritan, in which Jesus gives us the example of how to serve your neighbour. The first thing to notice is that the Samaritan is not bound. The priest, the Levite will be compromised if they act. Their role is in the temple, their purpose is prayer; we might raise our eyebrows – but if they are following their calling perhaps we should not judge them too harshly. And might they not suspect this to be an ambush? If they have no medical training, what can they really achieve here?

A senior officer in the army once described to me his four-part division of his officers. He said the capable and motivated were great. They were your future commanders. The capable and unmotivated, were fine – unreliable but under pressure they would do the job. The incapable and unmotivated were not a problem. They mostly avoided responsibility and made up the numbers. The officers he despaired of were the incapable but well-motivated. Hard to criticise them, being well intentioned and energetic; but without the necessary skills or ability, these were the people who caused disasters and loss of life.

They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions: just consider the well-meaning observer who seeing a car accident, runs to the vehicle and hauls out the driver, causing irreparable damage to their back and neck. The neighbour who seeing a fire in next door’s garden and turns his hose on it only to discover it’s an electrical fire. The president who hearing that detergent kills a disease, suggests to a nation that perhaps injecting detergent might cure people. Well-motivated incapable people are the world’s biggest problem. So don’t be too harsh on the fellow-travellers. It was reported at the beginning of the crisis that Archbishop Justin was volunteering at St Thomas’ hospital. Very laudable and humble, leading by example. But other voices then asked, ‘but who is leading the Church of England?’ Helping others is a wonderful way to build self-esteem; But going to the aid of others when we are ill-placed, ill-qualified and unable to maintain the promised support risks causing greater harm than cure.

But our Samaritan is free to act. He is not bound by other responsibilities. He also has some medical knowledge. The story is specific in detailing his application of oil and wine, the former for therapeutic, the latter for its antiseptic, properties. He also has the means to convey the injured man to the inn, and the funds not only to serve his immediate need but also to cover further costs as they arise. Finally, he understands his limitations. He leaves him in the care of others who are better placed and skilled to help, where he can receive more sustained professional care. I could run around doing everything this morning. I could play the organ – I could sing the psalm. But you know what? I think Rhiannon and Nick probably did it better than I could.

So it might seem at first, it’s the Samaritan’s spontaneity that is to be applauded; that he sees need and goes to help. But just as important is his actual ability to genuinely help. And also his restraint, that he doesn’t perform for his own gratification, but knows when to step back and use others to better serve the man’s need. He’s not merely feeling useful, or acting to receive praise, Still less he avoids the pitfall of using service as a power grab – that awful expression of having someone in your debt, using your service to vault yourself above someone. It’s not for nothing that in serving his neighbour, the Good Samaritan does not remain to collect a reward, or receive gratitude. Actually, here’s the hard truth: it’s not enough to be kind. We must know our abilities, our limitations, our own need for praise.

Parables, as I said, are there to convey the moral truths of which rules always fall short. They’re also there to clear away self-deception. We can appear good without actually doing any good. We can appear good to reassure our insecurity. We can appear good for the praise or the control of others. None of these is the service of our neighbour.

Now this Sunday is the 72nd anniversary of the NHS. The three core principles of the NHS are: that it meet the needs of everyone, that it be free at the point of delivery, and that it be based on clinical need, not ability to pay. In a very real way the NHS is the attempt to permanently fix the Good Samaritan in the life of every person in this country. 

The point is that it’s universal – that anyone and everyone has access to it. Without debt, without power, without lack or want, in their time of trouble, there is a professional able to help everyone; that this help will last as long as the need is there; that it will be suitably qualified and understand its limitations. The NHS has put the Christian principle of service at the heart of our national life, and it’s something we should never take for granted.

Today, we are more aware of its importance than ever. This crisis has reinforced our knowledge that our health is held in common – It’s a national, an international matter, where the actions of others affect me; where despite my wealth or poverty, I am involved in my fellow citizens. The NHS has been described as the national religion. As the embodiment of the Good Samaritan alongside us, who would complain about this description? The liturgical praise of Thursday evenings through the crisis, giving thanks for those who come among us as one who serves,  represents the kind of incarnational theology that Christian has always proposed.

This is not to say that the NHS has replaced God, or that doctors and nurses are our new priests. But we can see in them the same vocational taking up of the cross that the Gospel commands. We can rejoice that this crisis may increase the vocations to research, nursing, pharmacy and medicine. We can be inspired by those who dedicate their lives to the service of others.

 It’s a great joy to come back to church today. I have been privileged to witness great examples of service over the last four months and, having been to surgeries and hospitals with Oberon and parishioners, have received care without cost that should never cease to amaze and inspire. We enjoy today the hard-fought privilege won in the past. And we have promised in darker times to use this crisis as the basis for making society better; to find ways of extending the service this country offers in breadth and depth. As we come together to celebrate again the phenomenal achievement of holding our fragile National Health Service together, we should continue to think on what more we can do to instil the model of the Good Samaritan at the heart of our public and private lives. Putney’s most famous son Clement Atlee said that it’s ‘the greatest task which lies ahead of us all […] to see to it that the citizen’s sense of obligation to the community keeps pace with the changes effected in society. We need to stress duties as well as rights’. 

The future hope of Christianity is a city. A city with the tree of life at its centre. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. For 72 years the NHS has made this a reality for the people of this country. We are commanded to continue in this ministry to the people of Putney. As Jesus tells us: “Go and do likewise.” Love your neighbour. Have mercy. ‘Go and do likewise’. Amen.