Reflection on the Gospel – Sunday, July 13, 2025

julio 13, 2025

Go and do likewise

Dear brothers and sisters, peace and all good.

Eternal life. A question that has always troubled good believers. Because the answer determines our eternal happiness—or our eternal misfortune. It’s worth asking, because it’s no joke. It’s forever.

There’s also a great danger when we come across texts as well-known as the parable of the Good Samaritan: the danger of not paying attention to the details, assuming we already know everything. But there are many details here.

For example, the beginning. The lawyer starts strong: eternal life. What a question! Can one really do something to inherit it? Isn’t it a gift from God that we could never earn, no matter how hard we try?

It’s also a question we can ask ourselves today: What must I do to inherit eternal life? What was Jesus saying to the people of his time, and how do we translate that to the here and now? Because one thing is clear: even today, many people are lying helpless along the roadside.

To answer the lawyer’s question, all you need is love. It sounds simple enough in theory, because we all like to be loved, and we respond better to love than to yelling. We know that. But it’s hard. And if anyone thinks of saying, “I can’t,” we should listen again to the first reading: This command I give you today is not beyond your strength. Interesting, isn’t it? History repeats itself. The first Jews also felt that following the Lord was hard. That they couldn’t do it. It wasn’t an easy time to be a believer—maybe just like today. But there’s one basic thing: a sincere desire to return to the Lord with all your heart and all your soul. That’s enough. Even today, there’s always the chance to turn back to God. There’s always “signal” to call God’s phone. The real question is: Do you want to inherit eternal life or not? Are you willing to at least consider it?

At the core, it’s about becoming a little more like God. About loving the way God has loved us. About becoming aware of this gift: that He loved us first. And He showed us that love in Jesus, who, as the letter to the Colossians says, is the image of the invisible God. Jesus is, if you will, God’s ID card, His fingerprints left on our human history. Seen this way, loving God is more a gift than a commandment. It’s a commandment because it’s a gift. “You made us for Yourself, Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You,” said St. Augustine.

Jesus is the firstborn. We are children in the Son. And if we are children, we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ. And yet… what you inherit from your parents, you must also win over for yourself. You have to do your part. You can’t live off the inheritance alone.

We’re not being asked for the impossible. To inherit eternal life, help make this life possible for others—especially for those lying by the roadside. And we’re called to show gratitude to our neighbor, to anyone who found us by the roadside and helped make life possible again. What matters most is becoming more aware of God’s love—the first one to make our lives possible—of how this love is revealed in Jesus, and of the need to love others, as best we can, in the same way.

Another detail: when the lawyer answers Jesus, he doesn’t say the word Samaritan. He says, “the one who showed him mercy.” That foreigner knew how to become a neighbor. Because whoever draws near, whoever is capable of love, is showing that they’ve understood something of how God acts. Sometimes we avoid saying certain words, because saying them might make them real—and we’d rather not face that.

Maybe the end of the passage—another detail that might slip by because we think we already know it—gives us a clue: Go and do likewise. Jesus doesn’t say, “Understand this,” or “Agree with it.” It’s not about having lots of theoretical knowledge, or reading a bunch of books, or blindly following rules. It’s about loving God and loving your neighbor. As St. Paul says, If I do not have love, I am nothing. The prayers of the priest walking down the road meant nothing if he didn’t help the wounded man (even if that makes us clergy look bad). The Levite’s devotion didn’t matter either—he didn’t do anything. As the letter of James says: Show me your faith without works, and I’ll show you my faith by my works. The Samaritan’s gesture matters more—because it shows love.

Become a neighbor to the one in need, and you will inherit life. This parable carries an explosive message: Whoever loves their neighbor, truly loves God too (cf. 1 Jn 4:7). Maybe they reject God in words, but in truth, they’re only rejecting a false image of Him. The “Samaritans” who love their brothers and sisters—perhaps without even realizing it—are worshipping the true God.

And let’s not forget: This command I give you today is not beyond your strength. You just have to want it. But want it with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength—and ask God for it. Do you want to inherit eternal life?

Your brother in faith,

Alejandro Carbajo, cmf