Loving Well and Trusting God with the Results
What Matthew 25 and the Good Samaritan Teach About Loving Our Neighbor
by Raimer R.
by Raimer R.
Recently, a few brothers and sisters from two different local churches joined together to pray at a transitional apartment building near Skid Row in Los Angeles, where many people experiencing homelessness live.. A woman who serves and helps oversee aspects of the building had become deeply concerned because several tragic incidents had recently occurred there. Burdened by what was happening, she asked if a group of believers would come to pray and anoint the building, asking God to bring peace and shift the spiritual atmosphere.
As our team worshiped and interceded in one of the building's common areas, I suddenly saw something in my mind's eye. I saw Jesus walking into the building carrying a flower in a flower pot. At the same time, the words of a worship song came to mind: "When You come into the room, everything changes..." The image struck me deeply. A flower is small, simple, and beautiful. It was not a dramatic solution to every problem in the building, nor was it a grand strategy for fixing every challenge the residents faced. Yet it represented the presence of Jesus entering a place and bringing life.
In that moment, I sensed that God was breaking in in a beautiful way and that this simple act of prayer was part of something He would continue to nurture and grow over time.
Later, on the drive home, a conversation with one of the team members turned toward something many believers wrestle with: Does what we do really make a difference? Sometimes the needs around us seem so large that our acts of service feel insignificant. We pray, care for people, and serve where we can, yet we often wonder whether any of it truly matters in the long run. We want to know the outcome. We want to know whether our efforts will produce lasting fruit. We want to know if our contribution is enough.
As we talked, Matthew 25 came to mind. In that passage, Jesus describes the final judgment and commends the righteous: "I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in..." (Matthew 25:35)
What struck me was what Jesus does not celebrate. He does not say:
"Well done, because you solved poverty."
"Well done, because you fixed every broken life."
"Well done, because you transformed entire communities."
Instead, He celebrates simple acts of love. A meal. A drink. A visit. A welcome. A kindness. The people He commends did not solve every problem. They simply responded to the needs God placed before them.
The more I reflected on this passage, the more I realized that Jesus seems far less concerned with whether we can solve every problem and far more concerned with whether we faithfully love the people He places in our path.
This same theme appears in the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25–37), where Jesus answers the question, "Who is my neighbor?" not by giving a definition, but by telling a story of costly compassion. A man is beaten, robbed, and left half dead on the road to Jericho. A priest sees him and passes by. A Levite sees him and passes by. Then a Samaritan stops.
What is remarkable is that the Samaritan does not solve every problem facing the wounded man. He binds wounds. He places him on his animal. He pays for lodging. He leaves money for additional care. Then he moves on. His actions do not erase the trauma. They do not remove all future hardship. They do not guarantee the man's future success. He simply does what love requires in that moment. Jesus presents him as the example to imitate.
Both Matthew 25 and the Good Samaritan reveal something important about God's kingdom: We are not called to fully solve every problem we encounter. We are called to faithfully meet the needs God places before us.
This is important because many believers become paralyzed by the size of the need:
A struggling family needs more than one meal.
A lonely person needs more than one conversation.
A hurting neighborhood needs more than one outreach.
A transitional apartment building faces challenges that no single prayer gathering can solve.
Because we instinctively measure our actions against the size of the problem, we often conclude that what we have to offer is too small to matter. But Jesus teaches something remarkably different. In Matthew 25, He treats these seemingly small acts as enormously significant. Why? Because they were expressions of love offered in His name. A meal matters. A visit matters. A prayer matters. A cup of water matters. Not because these acts solve everything, but because they reveal the heart of God.
This stands in sharp contrast to the natural tendencies of the human heart. Human beings naturally lean toward self-preservation and self-promotion. We count the cost when it affects us.
We ask:
How much time will this take?
What will this cost me?
How will this affect my plans?
What opportunities will I lose?
What risks am I taking?
The priest and Levite may have been doing exactly that. Perhaps they were protecting their schedules. Perhaps they were protecting their responsibilities. Perhaps they were protecting their ceremonial purity. Whatever their reasoning, they continued on their way. Meanwhile, the wounded man was paying a far greater price. The Samaritan looked beyond his own inconvenience and saw the suffering of another person. Compassion does this. It shifts the center of concern away from ourselves and toward another person. Instead of asking, "What will happen to me if I stop?" love begins asking, "What will happen to him if I don't?" The priest and Levite saw the situation through the lens of themselves. The Samaritan saw it through the lens of the wounded man.
This is one of the deepest calls of Christian discipleship. The call of God is not primarily to preserve our comfort, protect our convenience, or advance our reputation. The call of God is to love. To see people. To move toward need. To accept inconvenience. To faithfully serve the person God places in front of us.
Kingdom love:
is willing to be interrupted
moves toward need rather than away from it
serves without demanding recognition
trusts God with the results
This may be why Jesus identifies Himself so closely with those in need. He says: "Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." In God's eyes, a meal is not merely a meal. A visit is not merely a visit. A prayer is not merely a prayer. A cup of water is not merely a cup of water. When done in love, these become acts of service offered directly to Christ Himself. The significance of these actions is not found in their apparent size but in the God who receives them and the God who continues the work long after we are gone.
We often want to see the entire outcome before we act. God simply asks us to love. We want to know whether our efforts will change everything. God asks whether we will faithfully respond to the person in front of us. The burden of changing lives does not belong to us. The burden of loving well does.
In God's economy, faithful acts of love are never wasted. We provide the loaves and fishes; He multiplies them. We offer the cup of water; He writes the rest of the story. Perhaps that is why the image of the flower stayed with me. A flower does not transform an entire neighborhood overnight. A prayer gathering does not solve every challenge in a building. A meal does not eliminate hunger. A conversation does not remove every burden. Yet Jesus repeatedly teaches that the Kingdom often advances through seemingly small acts of faithful love. The flower may seem small. The act may seem small. But God is not asking us to carry responsibility for every outcome. He is asking us to love. And He is more than capable of taking care of the rest.