Words of Hope: Moved 

I love listening to stories of scripture. I spend time with the familiar story of the Good Samaritan. Jesus tells this story in response to a question about how we should be living our life. He says we should love God with all our heart and our neighbor as ourselves.

The man speaking with Jesus wants to know who his neighbor is. 

It is an important question that each of us wrestle with. Where is the boundary? What if I don’t feel like loving someone?

In the story, Jesus tells of a man robbed and beaten. His focus is on the suffering of this man. This man is the neighbor that needs love, and Jesus is asking us to demonstrate love towards this suffering in order to live out the gospel. 

The priest and Levi walk on the other side of the road but the Samaritan comes near. 

Love is proximity. It is walking close by and observing firsthand. 

The text says as he drew near, the Samaritan was moved to pity. In Aramaic, this phrase meant so much more than just feeling sorry for the man. It meant he was deeply and emotionally moved and felt an outpouring of compassion. 

“racham” (רחם) — related to mercy, compassion, or deep pity.

• The root is connected to “rechem” (womb), suggesting a maternal, deep, tender compassion — the kind you feel in your core, like the love of a mother.

This emotion led to action—deeply attentive, necessary, life-giving action. He cared for the man in ways that restored the man. His care led to healing. 

I contrast that with the feeling of obligation—a feeling I should help this person, but I don’t want to. I act out of duty rather than deepest compassion. This loveless action often has surprising consequences. Those we serve out of obligation know our heart isn’t in it. Even more dangerous, our loveless obligation leads many times to greater harm. 

Jesus asks us not only to help our neighbor but to love our neighbor. 

How easily obligation leads to frustration, irritation, and anger. These emotions lead us to choose the wrong tools to heal the needs of those we serve. 

No wonder so many were abused in settings people felt obligated by Christian duty to serve—churches, boarding schools, missionary work, our own homes. Loveless, compassionless serving can be even more harmful.

How do we come close but allow our hearts to be moved deeply? This is the work of love in our hearts with God at the center. That’s why Jesus says to love the Lord with all your heart, mind, and soul. 

I cannot be deeply moved to compassion without love burning in my heart. God is love. This love is being poured into our hearts by His Spirit within us. Proximity to compassion requires a heart in proximity to God.  

I consider the harm I cause when I try and act like a Christian for the conscious and most unconscious motives to be liked or admired or even sanctified—My focus on doing Christian acts and obligatory acts of good. 

How different it is when I turn my gaze toward love so that everything and everyone becomes beloved. How easy care for my neighbor becomes with God’s loving gaze. How easy it is to choose the right tools to bring healing when my heart is moved from the deepest well-springs of love and compassion. 

“But a Samaritan (foreigner), who was traveling, came upon him; and when he saw him, he was deeply moved with compassion [for him],” – Luke 10:33

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