Daily devotion – The Good Samaritan or the teflon Church attendee?
Luke 10:30–37
“Jesus replied with a story: ‘A Jewish man was traveling from Jerusalem down to Jericho, and he was attacked by bandits. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him up, and left him half dead beside the road…’”
(Read Luke 10:30–37 for the full parable)
Why is the Church today so sterile?
Many attend a Sunday service without ever speaking to another soul. There’s no connection, no conversation, no shared life—only a quick arrival and a quicker escape. Slip in. Slip out. Repeat next week.
Contrast that with Jesus’ story of the Good Samaritan. Three men saw the wounded traveler. Two passed by. One stopped. The difference? Compassion. Mercy. Sacrifice. Love.
At our Wednesday night gatherings—what we call Discipleship Night—we pray with each other and for each other. And in those moments, something powerful happens. Walls come down. Hearts are opened. Encouragement flows. We share heartbreak and seek God’s wisdom together. This is how the Church should be.
But the world around us is growing more closed, more isolated. Once, neighbours knew each other and cared for one another. Now, even in the Church, many don’t know the names of those sitting next to them. Paul described the Church as a body in 1 Corinthians 12:12–14—interconnected, interdependent, each part supplying life to the others. Are we living that way?
Some excuse this disconnect, saying the world is now too dangerous. Violence, addiction, abuse—yes, these are realities. But danger has always existed. The bigger issue today may not be fear, but selfishness. We’ve built an “isolationist lifestyle” around comfort, convenience, and control.
Jesus’ story is timeless. The priest and the Levite saw the need, yet avoided it. We often do the same. We see pain, need, loneliness—and we pass by. Why? Because mercy always costs something.
But when we give, we reflect our Heavenly Father—who gave His Son for us, at the greatest cost of all.
Claiming to belong to a Church, to be part of a fellowship, means very little unless it is marked by sacrifice, time, love, and faithfulness. Otherwise, we’re just passersby on the road of religion—crossing to the other side to avoid involvement.
Jesus said you are salt and light. But salt that stays sealed in a jar can’t preserve anything. Light hidden under a basket makes no difference in the dark. If we remain cloistered in our comfort, we forfeit our calling.
Let us not lose our saltiness.
Let us not hide our light.
Let us go and do likewise—just as Jesus said.