The Science of the Good Samaritan: Thinking Bigger about Loving Our Neighbors
An invitation to a kitchen table conversation is personal; it’s not a formal dinner invitation, rather an invitation to join in regular, everyday conversation with someone. Dr. Emily Smith invites readers to sit at her kitchen table for conversations about her faith and her work. Along the way, readers are introduced to the field of public health from someone who is passionate about the field and her faith. Although the title of the book may lead readers to assume this will be a book that dives deeply into science, the focus here is story. The book reads as a series of vignettes or essays with interconnecting threads that introduce readers to the way that epidemiology (and public health more broadly) can serve as a way to love one’s neighbor by seeing needs that are both individual and embedded in systems. So, while the science of public health is certainly part of the conversation, Dr. Smith invites readers into her own story as she explores what it means to consider the ‘other’ in both the field of public health and as a Christian.
The particular framing that Smith uses for the story of the Good Samaritan relates to Jesus’s question “who was the neighbor?” and the centering of the story on being a neighbor. As Smith defines it, “centering is what we give our attention to, what we focus on, what compels us (p. 11)” and she argues that the story of the Good Samaritan requires us to shift attention to our neighbor through being a neighbor, which requires more of us than simply taking an action. She suggests that being a neighbor is a posture of seeing and noticing others and recognizing that action comes after seeing.
After introducing the theme of ‘neighbor’, Smith shifts to telling her own story and her introduction to epidemiology, defined as the study of the distribution and determinants of disease, which is the field of science that allowed her to notice the systems and structures that impact individuals and health throughout the globe. She illustrates the ways that history shapes views of health and perspectives of others. While some of the hard stories she shares may be familiar to those who have been part of Institutional Review Boards or have been through research ethics training, this retelling is less about research ethics and more about helping readers see the connection between actions and systems—to see that individual actions need to be examined in light of broader histories and that examining these can help us to see patterns.
In chapters titled “Topics Too Many Evangelicals Don’t Want to Talk About” and “Trickle-Up Economics,” Smith dives directly into issues that often divide Christians including climate change and wealth. Smith dives head-on into these conversations with an approach that honors both the understanding she holds as a public health researcher as well as the conviction that her perspective is ultimately connected to her understanding of neighbor. She uses both stories and data to illustrate these concepts. For example, Smith describes her research in Somaliland that found, surprisingly, that a reduction in health care costs for families whose children required surgery did not have an equal impact on all families and that those in rural areas remained at high risk of poverty even when health care costs were very low. She explains, “No amount of individual-level money would protect these families, because already living in poverty, they also lived within a system that kept them there (p. 147).” It is this attention to systems and populations that distinguishes epidemiology from other forms of health-related science. It’s also one of the things I am drawn to as a public health practitioner and is sometimes missing in conversations about health.
In addition to sharing her passion for the public health approach, Smith also bares the deep hurts she experienced during the Covid-19 pandemic when she received threats from people, including members of her faith community, because of her social media presence as the “Friendly Neighborhood Epidemiologist.” She also shares her grief over the loss of community and subsequent personal health challenges. Even with these difficulties, Smith’s story ultimately emerges with a sense of hope and purpose and returns to the table, noting, “Jesus spent much of his life around tables or teaching about them. He dined with all sorts of people around tables. It was at a table that the holy work of breaking bread and sharing a cup was carried out for the disciplines as a reminder of a newness about to spring forth (p. 222).”
As a public health practitioner and fellow Christian, I resonate with the ways that Dr. Smith sees clear connections between her work and the call of the gospel. While the connection to the story of the Good Samaritan works as a basis for exploring what it means to be a neighbor, I found myself wanting to point to the rich tradition of attention to concerns beyond “saving souls” that is embedded within my life and experience of the Reformed tradition. This commitment to the wellbeing of others shows up in places like World Renew’s commitment to community health and economic development work as part of their commitment to renewal, restoration, and reconciliation (https://worldrenew.net/who-we-are). Kenneth Vaux, in his work on Health and Medicine in the Reformed Tradition, connects health and medicine to reconciliation, “…it is clear that we are called to cooperative, synergistic work with God in Christ. The work is reconciliation. We are invited to ambassadorial tasks. We do not go out in our own authority with self-conceived purpose. We bear a portfolio that enables us to introduce the one whom we represent and to proclaim and live out his message (p. 18).” It is this living out of the gospel in tangible ways that is at the heart of Smith’s own story, even as she shows how an expansive view of neighbor requires not only reconsidering who is our neighbor but also, how can we be neighbors?
Yes! Thank you! Thinking deeply and systemically about these issues is essential for Jesus-followers who want to be Kingdom change agents.
Thanks for your comprehensive review of this book. Haven’t finished it yet but finding the correlation of epidemiological events in historical perspective fascinating and compelling. I’m sure there’s more to come.
It was a joy to have her address the sacred indigenous ground in her introduction as has become customary. It was especially meaningful because that ground is a part of my hikes and walks along the Eno River. She’s a neighbor.
Thank you for your review of this book and the stimulus to read it.
It’s a meaningful contribution to the correlation between historical events and epidemiology that is compelling and information that bothers me. (As it should.)
I haven’t finished it yet but anticipate appreciating and enjoying the read.
It was a joy to see her reference to the indigenous tribes as has become customary. I’m pleased to know I walk and hike that sacred ground along the Eno River here in NC.