How’s My Love Compare? | Hearing God

I was recently asked (okay, it was October of last year) how I gain anything from sermons as a biblical studies student. It inspired me to start this series of posts that detail examples of sermons speaking specifically  to me. (I first had this idea in early December; I still need to write about that sermon.)

I prayed as church began on 2/23/25. I asked God to speak to me. I asked him to encourage me. I asked him to guide me.

The previous few days I’d spent too much time on my personal Facebook page arguing—whether helpfully or ignorantly, you can decide—about political takes. A friend had graciously pointed out that I was pushing too hard one direction, when the other side rightfully deserved pushback as well.

So enter church on Sunday. Here’s the service:

As soon as he took us to the Good Samaritan (Luke 10), I knew he had two options:

1. He could explain away the responsibility the text enjoins on us, like the “sin of empathy” crowd does, often by appealing to MacArthur.¹
2. He could side with Democrats and appeal for mercy toward the despised.

He did neither.

Because when you plead for God to speak to you—he does. But he will not be placed in a box. You can’t beat God with a false dichotomy. He is wiser than that.

The sermon points buried themselves deep:

1. “Following Jesus is not about looking religious, but living with compassion”
2. “Proximity to religion does not equal obedience to God”
3. “The question isn’t Who is my neighbor? But Am I a neighbor?”

After the first point, I felt justified in my recent Facebook posts. After the second, though, I felt uneasy. And after the third, I knew I had made a mistake.

I can preach love and compassion for the least of these, but I’m still a work in progress when it comes to showing it—especially to those who think differently from me. I started my “liLfytr”² journey trying to emphasize loving God by holding to proper, orthodox (at the time = Reformed) belief. I’m now well within the other side of that journey, emphasizing loving people. This phase began by refusing to get into conversations with differently thinking people—especially online—for fear of coming across angry or argumentative (a trait I had practiced for too long already). My goal is to encourage constructive dialogue between opposing sides in an effort to shrink the divide between them. But at some point, I shifted to arguing against the “least loving” side in an effort to convince people to actually start doing better at the thing Jesus said we’re supposed to be known for (John 13:35).

So his first point initially validated me. But the more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve been challenged. There’s many ways to look religious:

You can attend church multiple times a week and never miss service. You can refuse alcohol; you can abstain from sex; you can never cuss or take the Lord’s name in vain. You can give to the poor. You can study theology; you can memorize scripture; you can read the Bible every day. You can pray.

There’s three reasons these things miss the point. First, anyone—even those who don’t claim Christ—can practice them. Second, it wouldn’t be difficult to double or even triple the length of this list (dancing, smoking, tattoos—anyone?). Third, many are private activities that benefit no one. Sure, prayer and almsgiving are beneficial, but they can also be done from wrong motives. Look at Matthew 6 and James 1:27.

Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of people, to be seen by them. Otherwise, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven. So whenever you give to the poor, don’t sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be applauded by people. I assure you: They’ve got their reward! But when you give to the poor, don’t let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you. Whenever you pray, you must not be like the hypocrites, because they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by people. I assure you: They’ve got their reward! But when you pray, go into your private room, shut your door, and pray to your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you. When you pray, don’t babble like the idolaters, since they imagine they’ll be heard for their many words. Don’t be like them, because your Father knows the things you need before you ask Him.

Matthew 6:1–8, HCSB

Pure and undefiled religion before our God and Father is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself unstained by the world.

James 1:27, HCSB

The key to true religion is to live like Jesus. Look at the story of the Good Samaritan.

How does the guy answer Jesus’ question about what a neighbor is?

“The one who showed mercy.”

How did Jesus identify the Samaritan’s mercy?

“When he saw the man, he had compassion.”

What does Jesus say?

“Go and do the same.”

What did Jesus do throughout his life?

He showed compassion and mercy to people. In fact, Luke 1:78 unites mercy and compassion as attributes of God:

“Our God’s merciful compassion.”

The Greek words there correlate both to what the Samaritan did and how the listener interpreted the Samaritan’s actions. Jesus tells us to do the same. And the New Testament is not ashamed of this reality:

 If anyone has this world’s goods and sees his brother in need but closes his eyes to his need—how can God’s love reside in him? Little children, we must not love with word or speech, but with truth and action.

1 John 3:17–18, HCSB

What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can his faith save him? If a brother or sister is without clothes and lacks daily food and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, keep warm, and eat well,” but you don’t give them what the body needs, what good is it? In the same way faith, if it doesn’t have works, is dead by itself.

James 2:14–17, HCSB

This is why John says that when we live in love we are Jesus to other people. This is why I say that when we live in love, we will find our true reward and help others find theirs as well. Jesus demonstrated God’s merciful compassion to people, and he tells us to “do the same!”

This is why I was convicted as the sermon went on. What did Jesus say from the cross? He asked God to forgive even those murdering him (Luke 23:34). What love is that! Oh, to love like that!

I can be so close to true religion—emphasizing loving God and loving people—but so far at the same time. The people who disagree with me politically also deserve love. They deserve just as much love as those the Republican war machine is mowing down with no thought to who gets caught in its caterpillar treads. This is especially the case if my fears end up confirmed and the Republican voters’ hopes of a glorious future end up dashed in the dirt. They’ll need open arms to console them in their grief. Love pays no attention to party lines.

Love pays no attention to party lines.

Joshua Wingerd

This leads directly to the question: Am I a neighbor? I can talk about how I’ll be a neighbor in a later scenario, but if I’m not actively loving neighbors now—how can I believe I’ll faithfully love my neighbors later? I can’t.

God challenged me to extend love to both sides of the aisle, not just the side that has historically been less loved.

How has God spoken to you recently?

In this with you!

Thanks for reading

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Notes and References

1. Megan Basham (the author of the Tweet linked above) makes it clear in her latest book, Shepherds for Sale: How Evangelical Leaders Traded the Truth for a Leftist Agenda (New York: HarperCollins, 2024), that John MacArthur played a huge role in her faith journey. I don’t want to discount that; he played a huge role for me as well. But MacArthur’s exegesis of this parable concludes by greatly missing the point:
   
   “Obviously, Christ’s point is that neither the scribe nor anyone else is capable of such love. This is an indictment of the whole of fallen humanity, and the only proper response was for him to acknowledge his inability to save himself, and plead with God for mercy and forgiveness. Jesus, God incarnate, stood before him ready to extend forgiveness, grace, and mercy to him. But there is no indication that the lawyer did so; his pride and self-righteousness held him captive and he likely forfeited eternal life.”
   
   If you are curious, this comes from the final paragraph of “Finding Eternal Life (Luke 10:25– 37),” in Luke 6–10. I have to ask, “Is it really so obvious?” An exegesis of this text will follow soon, especially looking at the connection between “eternal life,” “salvation by grace not works (love),” and Jesus’ command to “go and do likewise.” Even if we believe salvation is by grace alone, we cannot discount the moral obligations the NT enjoins on us. ↩︎
2. “Live in LOVE; find your true reward.” I explain this understanding in a three part series here: “Living from Love“; “Living in Love“; “Living to Love.” The individual part links will all by active by March 17, 2025 on this site; the first link goes to all of them on my old site. ↩︎

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