This last week I rushed back from working in Nottingham to go and give blood. This was my sixty-first donation and so was nothing out of the ordinary.
Having drank my large glass of water, filled out my health screening questionnaire and had my finger pricked to check I was OK to donate, I sat back in the reclining chair and relaxed as the donor technician prepared to take my blood. As she cleaned my arm and was just about to insert the needle I casually remarked, “that’s the bit I hate most, the cleaning swab really makes my skin itch”. The lady who had just been about to stab me 
(I mean carefully and professionally insert the needle) looked at me and apologetically announced, she would have to report this, and speak to the doctor on duty. She kept apologising but she had to follow protocol. From the way she kept saying sorry and noting that “I bet you wish you hadn’t said anything” it was clear that she was not worried but the rule book had to be followed and the rule book stated she should be concerned, and duly she was. Eventually I was judged to be OK to donate, my arm was not going to drop off, just as it hadn’t on the last sixty donations. She deftly inserted the needle, took the vials of blood for testing and left me to it. After a short while I was done, the needle removed, the plaster applied and I was off to have the obligatory cup of coffee and a biscuit.
There I sat cupping my coffee in my hand, my mind on other things, or maybe on weighing up if taking a second mint flavoured Club biscuit was allowed when somebody dropped something behind me, I didn’t react to the clattering and I didn’t react to the donation assistant calling, “are you alright?” from across the room, she was obviously speaking to the person who had dropped something. The next moment she comes rushing across clearly to help whoever had dropped their belongings. But no, she stopped squarely in front of the obviously unresponsive gentleman who was not responding to sudden loud noises or to her calls of concern… Me!
In a very concerned voice asked again “are you alright?”
“Me? Yes! Oh, sorry I thought you were asking someone else” I embarrassingly replied. As I sat now trying to hide behind my cup of NHS coffee, I reflected on how twice I had seen people really concerned about me but how different the source of their concern was. One concern was driven by following the example laid down by a set of ‘standard operating procedures’, the other’s concern driven by their response to, what to them, was perceived as an unfolding crisis’. No matter what the driver for the concern, the concern was real and the actions the concern caused were both compassionate and effective.
As a Christian, the Bible tells me to be concerned for my neighbour. The Bible in many ways can be considered a Christian’s standard operating procedure. Sometimes we glimpse an unfolding crisis on the television, in our families or neighbourhoods and the Holy Spirt compels us to act. Other times it it is difficult to know how to respond. In a world where there are so many competing pressures it is not always easy to follow the example of Jesus and love those around us (no matter who they are), it is not always clear how we should act through compassion to be effective. The key thought is that we never stop being concerned by the plight of others, that we never do nothing just because the task is big or we aren’t sure what to do.
As we come into Lent, a time of giving things up and sacrifice, why not give up some of your time or resources and spend some time being concerned. Help a neighbour, volunteer to help the needy, give time or money to those who need more than you, click for more ideas.
Or maybe just go and have a nice relax while a caring, compassionate and thoroughly professional member of the NHS Blood Donor service relieves you of some blood. You even get a drink and biscuit for your troubles, not to mention the feeling you have done something good.
1 John 3:17-18New Living Translation (NLT)
17 If someone has enough money to live well and sees a brother or sister in need but shows no compassion—how can God’s love be in that person?
18 Dear children, let’s not merely say that we love each other; let us show the truth by our actions.