Rome did not create a great empire by having meetings.

My hands are shaking.  Fuck.  An elephant of a mortar dropped right into the compound here, damn near knocked me on my ass.  My ears are ringing.  Man, that was the biggest blast I’ve felt in six months in this shithole.  I’m too close to going home for this bull shit.  Damn it all, anyways. 

It’s supposed to be a quiet month.  It’s winter, for Christ sake, and cold as hell…. retreat to your warm caves!  The SA (Security Agreement) is firmly in place.  Local elections are coming.  Man, what gives?  Even with my cat-like reflexes and a bullet-proof kevlar vest, I’m still vulnerable.  So much for the teflon veneer. 

But it’s a good thing to be a little vulnerable.  I’ve learned a lot about relying on other people out here (and that’s certainly not my strong suit).  Sometimes, there’s just not a damn thing you can do anyway …… 30 seconds later, 50 yards to the left, whatever; if it’s my turn, then so be it. 

It’s days like this, though, that I’m forever grateful for the little things.  Life is full of damn potholes and obstacles.  It’s all about choices, and what choices do we really get, anyway?  A choice to live a certain way?  To make the best of each moment, each day?  To try and leave things better than we found them?  Life’s fucking short, man.  I’ve said it before (me and a few other people).

My Ranger buddy from Daytona Beach took a stray bullet a couple of weeks ago, and that was it.  Right into the side of his vest where the damn armhole is, and into his chest.  It’s been a shit couple of weeks out here (both theatres)…. too many losses. 

I’m sure every time a helicopter (or two) goes down, you hear about it on the news back home.  I always wonder if it’s just a quick blurb, and then back to Sarah Palin or Casey Anthony or whatever the fuck else is going on back there that hits the news.  Holy cow, it’s that 24/7 mentality of just processing more and more shit, feeding the machine, the constant manipulation of the modern media, blurring the lines between news and propaganda (cynical bastard).   

Well, for what it’s worth, the losses are never a mere 20 second news blip out here.  It’s someone’s father or brother or uncle or husband or son.  Christ, this shit gets old.  But back to that part about appreciating the little things.  That was really the whole point before I drifted dangerously off course into my angry-man, life’s unfair diatribe.  Hell, I’ve got it pretty damn good, nothing really to complain about.  I’m just living the dream - fat, dumb and happy.  And knowing that somebody else has it a hell of a lot worse than me. 

But, Jesus, I’m gonna need a drink soon, smile.             

I’ve been wanting to write about my friend, Cindy (another college cohort), for some time now.  And not just because she’s the actual host of my site (one helluva kind endeavor), but mostly because she’s just a damn cool-ass chick.  And my kids love her, too, which is always a pretty good gauge. 

I first met Cindy when she was dating a good friend of my brother’s who also happened to be on the Frosh crew (I think I was a junior).  We ended up becoming good friends through numerous circles of friends - sort of a “six degrees of separation” thing - that continue on to this day.  And, as you all know, I’m grateful for my friends, new and old(er).

So, as usual, I had a few ideas for topics I wanted to cover with regard to Ms. Cindy, and then I figured I’d just search the web a bit and see what surfaced.  Man, I love the Internet.  You just type a person’s name into a Google search and “Voila”!  And I must say, there’s a LOT of detail on CT!  Good stuff, lots of it…. and photos….. and even Espanol’!

Cindy recently commenced her 4th or 5th Master Cleanse.  (Read on if you have no idea what I’m talking about…. or even if you do!)  Since Cindy has dragged me through the MC process once (I am indeed a convert), I can speak with some level of authority or, at least, genuine experience.  Right now, I think Cindy’s on day 7 or 8 - euphoria has set in and she can just see and taste that damn glass of O.J. that coming in a couple of days…. truly one of life’s great sensations! 

But more on that later, for those who might want to “purge”.  Let’s talk about Cindy.  She really is an amazing person.  Worldly.  Balanced.  Interesting.  Wholesome.  Natural.  Fucking fun.  Grounded.  Christ, she used to play in a hardcore rock band in Detroit after college (and I love to jam with her).  She’s also a world-class Bikram Yoga instructor, and went through rigorous training to get where she is today.  And since I’ve had my ass kicked in her class, I can speak of that wonderful experience as well.  Suffice it to say that Cindy is on an enviable track.

I can barely begin to roll it all into one neat package, or put the full perspective here, but those of you who know her also know of what I speak.  Here’s some good CT biographical info I found posted elsewhere that also speaks to her true nature:

Again, I could go on and on about Cindy, but I think you get the picture.  If someone asked me to describe the essence of a cool chick, I would show them a photo of Cindy.  It’s kind of like all that Chuck Norris shit we get going out here with the Army Special Ops guys (they all live for C.N.)….. CT delivers a roundhouse kick to your attitude!  She’s good for the soul.  More power to you, baby!  Here’s to day 10 and that glass of O.J.!  Love ya,  G+ 

So, what’s this Master Cleanse all about?  (Right, ’cause if CT is into it, it must be good, smile!)  OK, well, it’s also known as the Lemon Cleanse and the Maple Syrup Diet.  It was created by Stanley Burroughs in 1941, and made popular by Peter Glickman through his book Lose Weight, Have More Energy and Be Happier in 10 Days, which promotes Burroughs’ regimen to a modern audience.  

Burroughs states that it is a detoxification program that aids in the removal of harmful toxins from within the body, as well as a reducing diet for loss of weight, and a cure for ulcers and “every kind of disease,” resulting in “the correction of all disorders.”  (I might not go that far, but hell, it sure felt good  to me.)  Unfortunately, for promoting a regimen which included the master cleanse, the creator of the diet was convicted of unlawfully selling devices he claimed could cure cancer and practicing medicine without a license. 

But don’t let that slow you down.  The cleanse rids the body of toxins and removes the cravings associated with drugs, alcohol, tobacco and junk food.  Coffee, tea and soda (colas), as habit-forming beverages, also lose their appeal.  The cleanse involves drinking only a lemonade beverage made from fresh lemon or lime juice, Grade B maple syrup, water and Cayenne pepper.  No solid food is eaten for the entire cleanse. 

And let me tell you, I still mix up that ade every now and then (well, not out here) because I love the shit…. it’s just plain addictive.  Anyways, the master cleanse is technically not a “fast” and proponents say it is more gentle on the body because it does contain some essential vitamins and minerals.  Also, it is recommended to be on the cleanse for a minimum of ten days, but some people stay on the cleanse for longer periods of time, even as long as 45 days. 

I did 10 days and felt great.  At least until I went out and ran 5 miles (I had a LOT of energy, but was a bit woozy afterwards).  Since there is no intake of solid food, special precautions are taken to avoid constipation.  Senna tea is taken every night and a warm saline solution is occasionally required (which passes through the digestive system very quickly, so be prepared).  It is also essential to go off of the cleanse slowly.  This usually involves drinking “full strength” juices for a day or two, while slowly adding in soups, then fruit, vegetables and nuts before resuming a regular diet.

Some individuals (like me) have returned to their healthy diet the following day after stopping the program without any problems, but this is not recommended, especially for first timers.  (Of course, I went on a sushi binge.)  

Stanley Burroughs and other authors say that the cleanse will eliminate toxins and congestion that have built up in the body.  For people in perfect health, the body is designed to eliminate normal everyday toxins through the lungs, kidneys, liver and other eliminator organs.  Supporters have credited the cleanse with helping them lose weight, increase energy, and even alleviate some chronic diseases and increase sexual stamina.  Some doctors say that they’ve seen positive health effects such as the disappearance of acne, clearer vision and the disappearance of dark circles around eyes. 

Certainly there’s a lack of essential nutrients in this program, although dietary deficiencies in protein should not be a factor if the cleanse is followed only for a short time.  As a result of these deficiencies, including far fewer calories than the recommended amount for health and optimum functioning, individuals on the diet may experience headaches and a variety of other symptoms in the short term.  Many authors assert the benefits of fasting are related to its lack of nutrients.  

Many proponents of the cleanse do not recommend it solely for weight loss, instead mentioning its purported detoxifying properties.  In 2006, the cleanse received media attention as a result of being embraced by some celebrities.  The singer/actress Beyonce did it for 14 days and lost 22 pounds for her role in the 2006 movie Dreamgirls.  A form of cleanse diet was featured in the TV-show “The Office” in the episode, “Weight Loss.”  Just thought you all should know.  Certainly, I’ll try anything once.  The cleanse, I would do again.  Go get ‘em, Cindy!

Geez, I’ve been holding onto this story for months.  I guess I just hadn’t felt like it was previously worthy of publication.  Hell, I’m not sure it is now.  The truth is, it described in detail my home-base location, so I was a little leery of potentially posting taboo info.  But then, I figured, who really gives a shit, right?  I mean, I’m just describing this one particular place to you - all the information came directly from a Google search - and I’m rarely there, anyways, so…. perhaps you can learn something of use:

 Joint Base Balad, also known as Balad Air Base and Logistic Support Area (LSA) Anaconda, is one of the largest Coalition military bases in Iraq.  The Army’s 3rd Sustainment Command (Expeditionary) and the Air Force’s 332nd Air Expeditionary Wing are headquartered at JBB.  Balad is the central logistical hub for forces in Iraq and the busiest air base in the world operated by the U.S. Department of Defense (It is currently the 2nd busiest airport in the world).  

Camp Anaconda/JBB has also been more colloquially termed as ”Mortaritaville” (a reference to the regularity of IDF - indirect fire - attacks) or the “Big Snake”.  Joint Base Balad is also used extensively by aircraft of the Royal Air Force.  Balad Airbase is located in Northern Iraq approximately 68 kilometers North of Baghdad.  At each end of the main runway are hardened aircraft shelters knowns as “trapezoids” or “Yugos” which were build by Yugoslavian contractors some time prior to 1985.

The installation is also the launching point for Air Force F-16 fighters, Army helicopters, military intelligence aerial systems and various other assorted aircraft, from the C-5 Galaxy transport to the Predator unmanned aerial vehicle and everything in between.  In addition, the Army and Navy have about 200 helicopters - including Apaches, Black Hawks and Chinooks - based at Balad.

Not only do airmen at Balad keep track of all aircraft arriving at or departing from the base, they also track all military aircraft operating in all of Iraq.  Radar antennae at the base scan the entire country, providing a complete image of everything in the airspace over Iraq.  This information is scrutinized and disseminated by personnel working in two bus-sized containers crammed with high-tech equipment.

The base is so large that has its own ‘neighborhoods’.  These include: ‘KBR-land’ (a Halliburton subsidiary company), for example, and the Combined Joint Special Operations Task Force (surrounded by especially high walls and is, according to The Washington Post, so secretive that even the base Army public affairs chief has never been inside).  There is a Subway sandwich shop, a Pizza Hut, a Popeye’s, a 24-hour Burger King, two post exchanges that sell an array of goods, four mess halls and a hospital.

Daily and weekly attacks on JBB involve typical guerilla weapons such as machine guns and rocket-propelled grenades, as well as somewhat accurate mortars that can be fired from more than 5 miles away.  In one attack on a highway near Balad, US soldiers were ambushed three times over a span of eight hours by about 50 enemies lying in wait in trenches and behind earthen berms on both sides of the highway.

Most troops stationed at LSA Anaconda live in rustic trailer complexes.  These small room-size trailers were obtained from local manufacturers, are arranged in hundreds of rows, and are commonly known as ”hootches”.  Cafeteria-style dining facilities are run on the post by civilian contractors, and breakfast, lunch, dinner, and midnight dinner are served.   Religious services are provided by military chaplains, and there are smaller, morale-boosting events run by individual soldiers or units.

There is also a fitness gym operated on base.  Those who run or jog for exercise have several choices: the added weight of a flak vest and helmet or an indoor treadmill.  Public affairs officials acknowledge having a tough time convincing reporters in Baghdad to venture to this camp that serves as the major hub for coalition convoy operations.  JBB is known for its intense heat, with many days well above 100 degrees and swirling dust adding to the misery of carrying a 5-pound helmet, a 70-pound jacket and a personal weapon system.

That’s it, really, just a little dose of daily life!

           AN INTERESTING AND TRUE TIDBIT OF WWII HISTORY:

     Starting in 1941, an increasing number of British airmen found themselves as the as the involuntary guests of the Third Reich, and the crown was casting about for ways and means to facilitate their escape.  Now obviously, one of the most helpful aids to that end is a useful and accurate map, one showing not only geography, but also depicting the locations of ’safe houses’ where a POW on-the-lam could go for food and shelter.

     Paper maps had some real drawbacks - they make a lot of noise when you open and fold them, they wear out rapidly and, if they get wet, they turn into mush.  Someone in MI-5 (similar to America’s OSS) got the idea of printing escape maps on silk.  It’s durable, can be balled up into tiny wads and unfolded as many times as needed, and makes no noise whatsoever.  

     At that time, there was only one manufacturer in Great Britain who had perfected the technology of printing on silk, and that was John Waddington, Ltd.    When approached by the government, the firm was only too happy to do its bit for the war effort.  By pure coincidence, Waddington was also the U.K. Licensee for the popular American board game, Monopoly.  As it happened, ‘games and pastimes’ was a category of item qualified for insertion into ‘CARE packages’, dispatched by the International Red Cross, to prisoners of war.

     Under the strictest secrecy, in a securely guarded and inaccessible old workshop on the grounds of Waddington’s factory, a group of employees who were sworn to secrecy began mass-producing escape maps, keyed to each region of Germany or Italy where Allied POW camps were located (Red Cross packages were delivered to prisoners in accordance with that same regional system). 

     When processed, these maps could be folded into such tiny dots that they would actually fit inside a Monopoly playing piece.  As long as they were at it, the clever workmen at Waddington’s also managed to add:

     1.  A playing token, containing a small magnetic compass,
     2.  A two-part metal file that could easily be screwed together, and
     3.  Useful amounts of genuine high-denomination German, Italian and French currency, hidden within the piles of Monopoly money!

     British and American air crews were advised, before taking off on their first mission, how to identify a ‘rigged’ Monopoly set - by means of a tiny red dot, one cleverly rigged to look like an ordinary printing glitch, located in the corner of the Free Parking square.  Of the roughly 35,000 Allied POWS who successfully escaped, an estimated one-third were aided in their flight by the rigged Monopoly sets.  Everyone who did so was sworn to secrecy indefinitely, since the British Government might want to use this highly successful ruse in still another, future war.

     The story wasn’t de-classified until 2007, when the surviving craftsmen from Waddington’s, as well as the firm itself, were finally honored in a public ceremony.  Anyway, it’s always nice when you can play that ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card.

Contributed by none other than Mason LeTellier!

Jesus, a half century goes by fast!  The 60’s are a mere blur at this point, perhaps because I wasn’t even a teen yet back then.  The 70’s continue to linger in my psyche, primarily due to my obscene infatuation with Laurie Partridge (Susan Dey), I suspect.  The 80’s - Christ, what happened in the 80’s; some punk rock, 6 or 7 years of college and mind-altering substances - who can remember?  The 90’s, hell, isn’t that when Clinton spooged all over that plump girl’s blue dress? 

And now we’re in the ‘Aughts, or whatever the fuck you call this early century crap - what we Aught do and what we Aught not do.  And it would figure that, my kids are smarter than me!  Criminy.  They can multi-task like nobody’s business and manipulate myriad electronic devices simultaneously while, yes, operating heavy machinery, damnit.  I’ve got a 7 year old who can drive a car (”Take me to the bar, kid, and step on it!”).  And a 13 year old who thinks she’s 25 and wants to spank some punk from Twilight or one of those damn geeky Jonas Bros.  When the hell did I lose control of my world?  Maybe it was their world all along.

So, the good news is, I get this flight physical every year around my birthday that is supposed to tell me, more or less, that I’m still healthy.  I’ve had mixed reviews in the past, but generally, it’s a plus.  More so because I’m not really much for doctors, and I probably seek this level of assessment on my own accord.  The bad news, though, is that the damn thing takes longer and longer ever year.  I used to just pop in and get the whole schmear done in less than 3 hours.  Last year it took 3 months (I kid you not).  So far, on this year’s “inspection”, I’m up to 10 days.  But I can hardly complain about getting this sort of free medical attention, especially out here.

So, in order to fulfill the requirement here in theatre, I have to drive over to this M*A*S*H looking unit, where palm trees and hammocks adorn the place.  Geez, these medical pricks have it good - who knew?  Anyway, I start working my way through the ritual - the first hour is all about documentation - 3 pages of medical history that you have to complete every year (without looking at the previous year’s input).  And you can imagine what my medical history looks like; let alone, surmise how well my memory is holding up.

So, next comes the poking and prodding, and the samples: blood, urine, nose snot (not really).  And then I’ve got to strip down to my boxers (good thing I had some on) and lie down on the doctors bench while they hook up a bunch of electrical wires for the EKG.  By the time it’s all rigged up, I’m pretty much dozing.  The med tech starts running the gizmo, and she immediately says, “Well, geez, ya know, this doesn’t look so good (Minnesota accent),” followed by, “Hold on, let me get the doctor.”  Well I’m engaged at this point. 

So the doc comes in, and he’s eyeballing all the hook ups and the computer print-out, and the mech tech proceeds to tell me a story about the time she did one of these and the fella was having a heart attack right then and there, but didn’t know it.  Yep, I was off to a good start.  The doc quickly reassured me that I wasn’t having a heart attack, as he gave the med tech one of those sideway glares that says, “”Could you be any less sensitive?”   

Well, it got better from there, fortunately.  I didn’t do so good on the hearing test, but it was probably the loud rumble of aircraft in the vicinity.  I get to do that one again.  Chances are good, though, that I’ve had a bit of a hearing shift, all things considered.  And my cholesterol is as low as it’s been in years…. must be all that damn oatmeal in the morning?  And, well, my blood work had to get shipped off to Germany for some special analysis, but I’m pretty sure that’s standard.  Right?

So, I’m pretty convinced at this point that I’m GTG (good to go) for another year.  In fact, I feel quite good, damn it.  And, oh, did I mention that they issued me some reading glasses?  A couple of years ago, I would have probably taken that one personally, but now, I’ll take all the help I can get, baby!     

I can’t not publish this story.  I know there’s some english rule that DJ will interject with soon regarding double negatives, but this story is just too juicy not to pass on.  And it is my sincere belief that the author, my dear friend Desirae, had intended it for publication.   Besides, it’s way more fun posting someone else’s stuff!  And I suspect when Kevin McCarthy, another college cohort and keen writer himself, reads this, he’ll say something along the lines of, “This story cannot go unpublished…. let’s send it to Playboy.”  

My best buddy, Mason, never intended his comments for pubication, I’m sure.  But email is certainly in the public domain and, besides, he never reads this shit anyways.  His comments regarding Desirae’s story couldn’t be more apt: “Wow.  What a story.  I just came full circle on the ‘women in the military’ thing.   Should have let them in a long time ago!  I gotta tell you, this is one of the most passionate women that I’ve ever met.  And a lot of fun too.”

So, here it is, intro and all……. 

“Greg,
 
First off, I just want to thank you for all that you’re doing over there, even though it’s secret squirrel shit.  You are awesome!  I want you to know that I read each of your postings, and they are f-ing fabulous.  I hope that you are well, and as safe as one could be in such situations.  That being said, how the hell are you?  I do apologize for my vicious slacking!  I’ve attempted to email you several times, or comment on your stories, jokes and informative pieces, but I get interrupted here at work.  Here is a little story from my past… I hope it gives you a little taste of the pleasure your writing has given me!”   
 

So there I was…(I couldn’t resist)…USS Blue Ridge, Recruit Training Command, Great Lakes, IL, sometime in June of 2000.  The end of the most humiliating, yet hilarious experience is upon us…us, being a few gals from Division 924 (Royster, Benton, the girl from NC with the awesome accent, and myself).  We are hanging out in the compartment while the rest of the division is elsewhere.  I don’t remember why we were left behind, but it was the perfect opportunity to gossip, the caddy bitches that we are. 

The discussion goes from those who sleepwalk and try to snuggle up in another’s rack, to those who suspect others of sprinkling pubic hair on their pillows (I know, WTF?), to the girl-on-girl action in the shower.  No, I wasn’t a part of that one.  I had made a comment along the lines of, “I can’t believe Girl #1 and Girl #2 were gettin’ it on in there!  That’s freakin’ nasty!” (not the act itself, but the fact they did it in that disgusting shower).

So Royster and the NC girl say in unison, “At least they don’t masturbate in their sleep!”  I let out a loud hoot and say, “Ha, who did that?”  “You did!” Benton exclaims. “Shit muffins!  You have got to be kidding me!  That’s bullshit!” I say, as I feel that my entire face is catching on fire from embarrassment.  Alas, I am sure, at this point, that it’s true. 

So, the story goes, Benton was standing the compartment night watch about a month before and heard some interesting noises coming from my rack, which was located at the most forward starboard side on the top (remember, the buildings are ships).  When she realized what was going on, she deemed it worthy of noting in the logbook.  The entry from that night reads as follows: 

03JUN2000  0200 hours – SR Ballard is moaning and causing a ruckus in her rack.  SR Benton must investigate, as her duty is to maintain silence about the decks.  It is discovered that SR Ballard is masturbating in her sleep. 

Benton was kind enough to let me finish, I guess.  I think they were all jealous (wink*).  Not thinking that I could be any more embarrassed, we all realize that one of our Recruit Division Commanders has returned without our noticing, and is shaking his head, as if he is trying to empty his ears of the words he has heard.  We are totally f-ing busted!  We let out a few shrieks, giggles and profanities as we return to looking busy.

The day quickly passes, and Petty Officer Swain, the tall stocky white guy with the raspy voice and smiling blue eyes, instructs the males to get downstairs to their compartment.  Then he shouts, “Alright ladies, get in your racks!  Lights out…hey Ballard, you gonna get some more “sleep” tonight!  Heh, heh, heh!”  The four of us who know what he’s talking about crack up, and the other 96 females yell at us to shut up, or let out an annoying shushing hiss.  The end.
 
“There you have it.  Oh, on a side note, how did you know about my birthday?  Thanks for the B-day wishes!  I’m blushing and flattered!  Behave yourself and take care!  I owe you some cold ones on Mason’s porch!   Des”

Ya know, I could have probably used a story like this back in my recruiting days.  It gives whole new meaning to the phrase, “It’s not just a job, it’s an adventure!”  Oh wait, we don’t use that one any more.    

For my good friend, Debbie Jo…… buying that girl the bed was an extremely noble endeavor.  You’re in good company.  The parable is found in the Gospel of Luke, chapter 10, verses 25–37.  And while it doesn’t come right out and slam lawyers, it certainly paints them in a questionable light.

The majority view indicates this parable is told by Jesus in order to illustrate that human kindness and fellow feeling must be available to all, and that fulfilling the spirit of the Law is just as important as fulfilling the letter of the Law.   Jesus puts the definition of neighbor into an enlarged context, beyond what people usually thought of as a neighbor. 

On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”.  ”What is written in the Law?” he replied.  ”How do you read it?” asked Jesus.  The man answered: ” ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”  ”You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”  But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

“A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he fell into the hands of robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead with no clothes.  A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side.  So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side.  But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him.  He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine.  Then he put the man on his own donkey, took him to an inn and took care of him.  The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper.  ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’  “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”  The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”  Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”

Samaritans were hated by the story’s target audience, the Jews, to such a degree that the Lawyer did not mention them by name, but as “The one who had mercy on him.”  The Samaritans in turn hated the Jews. Thus the parable, as told originally, incorporated the current religious and ethnic tension to teach, “For I desired mercy, and not sacrifice: and the knowledge of God more than burnt sacrifice” (Hosea 6:6).  But as the story reached those who were unaware of the oppression of the Samaritans, this aspect of the parable became less and less discernible: fewer and fewer people ever heard of them in any context other than as a description.

Today the story is often recast in a more modern setting where the people are ones in equivalent social groups known to not interact comfortably.  Thus cast appropriately, the parable regains its message to modern listeners: namely, that an individual of a social group they disapprove of can exhibit moral behavior that is superior to individuals of the groups they approve; it also means that not sharing the same faith is no excuse to behave poorly, as there is a universal moral law.  The parable has also been used as an example against racial and ethnic prejudice.

One of the most culturally pervasive of Jesus’ parables, the Parable of the Good Samaritan has a variety of interpretations that reflect the communities which have shaped them.  This parable is noted for its social implications, especially in our modern world.  Apart from possible spiritual readings, this teaching has very practical elements.  Jesus answers the lawyer’s question as to which of the commandments is greatest - and the narrator states that the lawyer is looking for a way around the twin command to love.  So Jesus tells a parable to explain who a person’s neighbor is - who should this man love?

By turning to Leviticus (19:33-34), one can see that as early as this time, the responsibility of caring for other nations when their paths cross was given to God’s people.  In fact, a large part of the Holiness Code in Leviticus deals with the practical implications of loving the aliens in the land, even modifying the process by which a farmer may harvest crops so that those who are without food can glean from the edges.

While this parable is known for its social implications in our modern world, it also presents a very important contextual spiritual message.  During his ministry, Jesus was often accused of associating with the publicans and sinners by the Scribes and Pharisees (Luke 5:30).  In the parable of the Good Samaritan, Jesus reaffirms his reasons for doing so.  The stricken figure in the parable represents all those who are spiritually sick, such as the gentiles and the sinners.  That it was a priest and then a Levite who first passed by is significant beyond the irony of the situation: people who were expected to help, did not, while someone whom the victim (and Jesus’ audience) despised, did.  The priest may have had an “excuse” not to help since touching a dying or badly wounded person for someone so “holy”, while not forbidden, would be, in our modern vernacular, distasteful due to all the necessary cleansing rituals prescribed by Mosaic Law.

The priest therefore decided that being ritually clean and “priestly” was more important than saving someone else’s life.  Jesus’ unspoken challenge to all seems to be: would we help only if it is convenient, or are we willing to go out of our way to show compassion to a stranger?  Also, understanding this parable requires recognizing the importance of the Lawyer’s perspective.  By testing Jesus, his particular goal of questioning was to determine what he might do himself to obtain eternal life.  Jesus answers with the call to love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength, as well as loving your neighbor as yourself, the Great Commandment.  

It is revealed in Luke (10:29) that the lawyer wanted to justify himself.  In other words, he wanted to be able to claim he had accomplished what was required by the standard Jesus cited.  He wanted to feel like he was good enough to qualify for eternal life.  In order to do this, this man wanted a definition of neighbor that was not too challenging for him to say that he loved that person.  In presenting the Parable, Jesus provides an answer that is intended to set the standard high.  The one you should consider your neighbor is the person you believe is the most undesirable.  You have to love that person as yourself.

This conclusion is applied to all people.  Additionally, Jesus provides to the scholar an answer that serves as a model for the scholar to emulate in learning who is and who is not his neighbor.   Jesus then challenges the scholar to resolve his self-doubt by commanding him to follow the Samaritan’s behavior….  “Go and do likewise,” reads as an elaborated single-sentence paraphrase: Go and find someone [an innocent victim you may despise, yet who touches your heart], and meet his needs, and then proceed with your life.  The point of Jesus’ statements was to compassionately meet the scholar’s presenting need.

Here Jesus is answering a self-revealing question.  This parable’s content is clearly practical and dramatic in its obvious meaning, but a time-honored Christian tradition also saw the parable as an impressive allegory of the Fall and Redemption of mankind.  This early Christian understanding of the good Samaritan is depicted in a famous eleventh-century cathedral in Chartres, France.  One of its beautiful stained-glass windows portrays the expulsion of Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden at the top of the window, and, in parallel, the parable of the good Samaritan at the bottom.  This illustrates a symbolic interpretation of Christ’s parable that was popular in the Middle Ages.

I couldn’t resist this one…… especially for all of my friends in D.C. who can’t get to work today!

WASHINGTON (AFP) – In an open letter to his young daughters, US president-elect Barack Obama said Thursday that he entered the race for the White House “because of what I want for you and for every child in this nation.”