I DROPPED my Smart car into a pothole recently, only to find that, when it re-emerged, it didn't work anymore.
There was the distinct lack of Good Samaritans at the time.
My car had drifted to a halt on the Barton to Brigg road.
Over the course of three hours, despite more than 100 cars, vans, lorries and tractors passing by, not one person paused to offer assistance.
Many did look in my direction, and several had to stop behind before being able to pass. It is also true to say that many will have recognised me; I certainly recognised them as local people. They had their reasons for not stopping, however, they couldn't have concluded that seeing a local GP sitting on a crash-barrier in the middle of nowhere was a normal activity.
The episode raised an interesting question in respect to how we see each other in the 21st century. The Catechism in the Book of Common Prayer reminds me that "my duty towards my Neighbour is to love him as myself, and do to all men, as I would they should do unto me".
It is a direct reflection of both the Bible's Old Testament and the New Testament. If we cannot extend such exhortations within our own community, what chance is there for our neighbours in today's so-called "global village"?
The Good Samaritan helped a stranger because he saw his need. If we cannot help someone who is not a stranger but well known to us, how can we counter the vast needs we see in other parts of our country and the wider world?
Maybe those who passed me by perceived the truth that I was essentially okay.
However, I suspect that many were too busy, too distracted, or just too indifferent to even think about asking.
What, then, does my vehicle breakdown tell us about our true ability to meaningfully respond to our neighbours in the wider world?