fiatlux

I am reminded of a story about two monks. They belonged to a strict ascetic community. One day the two were journeying to another community to bring some messages and happened to come upon the crossing of a river where a woman stood on the bank fearful of its current believing herself too frail to make it but in desperate need to cross to rejoin her husband and children awaiting her.

A major rule of that community was not to associate or have physical contact with females. One of the monks put his head down and started to wade across. The other monk went up to the woman and offered to carry her across, which he did. For miles afterwards, the monk who believed he had righteously followed the proper protocol of their order could not stop thinking of the terrible breach of the rules by his companion, not just touching but actually carrying a woman, her breasts pressed against his back, hands on her legs. He frequently shuddered over the repeating thought of this offense. Finally he could no longer contain himself. "Brother, do you know that you have sinned by engaging and actually touching that woman's flesh, having her pressed against you? How could you?" The other monk embraced his brother and said, "Friend, I put her down after fording that fifty foot river; you have carried her for miles."

Who showed love of their neighbor, who was the Good Samaritan?