Love that walks near

 

Paul, writing to the Colossians (1:1–12) in our New Testament reading, prayed that they would be made strong—not through their own willpower, but through the strength that flows from God’s presence. He prayed that they’d be able to endure life with patience and joy, always thankful to God..

Maybe as Paul wrote, his thoughts might have turned towards the teaching of Jesus—perhaps even the parable of the Good Samaritan which we heard (Luke 10:25-37). Paul understood suffering; he had experienced it, and, before his conversion, had even caused it. But Jesus’ story of this Samaritan stranger who stops to help, teaches us not only about kindness but about the depth of love God calls us to share—not just for Him, but for each other.

In a world where kindness can sometimes seem to come with conditions, we can reflect on how true compassion often comes at a cost. There’s a challenge about whether we sometimes help others for convenience, or for recognition, rather than out of true compassion?

Jesus didn’t commend the Samaritan for doing what was expected—He praised him for doing what was right. There was no reward waiting for the Samaritan, no applause, no assurance that the injured man would recover or even thank him. He saw the need, and he responded.

We can place ourselves in the story—as the victim, lying by the roadside, watching hope walk past. Perhaps the priest was too busy, the Levite too afraid or bound by religious rules. Perhaps we too, at times, feel that life is a struggle and wonder if help will ever come. And often it does— and sometimes from the most unexpected places. For example, a neighbour we never thought to call a friend becomes a lifeline.

Or maybe we are the Samaritan, called to do what is right even when it’s inconvenient, costly, or risky. Perhaps we’re tempted to offer the bare minimum—but this parable challenges us to go further. To offer real help. To stay, to return, to carry each other.

But let’s not ignore the priest and the Levite. It’s easy to judge them—but perhaps they were overwhelmed, scared, uncertain. Maybe the challenge here isn’t about criticising them but about reflection. Because all of us, at times, walk past someone in need. And all of us are invited to do better—to live more fully the love Jesus offers.

And what about God in this story? He is in every role. He sees the suffering, grieves over the violence, longs for courage for those who hesitate, and always is there.., here! He doesn’t require credentials or perfect theology. He asks only that we come, as we are, and allow Him to transform us by love.

That transformation doesn’t end with us though because we’re asked and entrusted to take it further. We’re called to be neighbours to those we might once have passed by for whatever reason. And in doing so, we reveal something of God’s love—not just to those who are thankful, but to the indifferent, the broken, even the resistant.

Paul’s words remind us that strength isn’t about us, it’s about God. As the Message Bible translation puts it: “We pray that you will have the strength to stick it out over the long haul—not the grim strength of gritting your teeth but the glory strength God gives.” That strength makes room for joy, for kindness, and for love that endures through even the toughest of times.

The world doesn’t need more noise. It needs more grace and love. It needs people quietly committed to living out the love of Jesus, showing by their actions a better way—a way where kindness is genuine, and love doesn’t demand thanks.

We’re invited to be these people.  Amen.