One of the most frequently spoken words by humans is ‘love,’ and it is also the most discussed word  in Christianity. We often hear the word ‘love’ spoken from pulpits, sung in hymns, or reflected upon in  church settings. It’s very easy to speak about love. But have we made it real? Have we made it tangible so  that others can sense and touch it? Have we created love in our relationships? Have we expressed love in  our families? Have we shared love with others who are truly thirsty and hungry for it?

This is the situation we find in the conversation between Jesus and an expert in the Law. In the original  Greek text, the author of Luke uses the word nomikos (Greek: Νομικός), meaning a lawyer or someone  with the knowledge and ability to interpret Scripture and the Law of Moses. That is why Luke mentions that  this person was trying to test Jesus with the question, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” This question  did not come from genuine curiosity or a sincere heart seeking growth, but rather from a desire to find an  answer from Jesus that contradicted Jewish tradition. If that had happened, the lawyer could have accused  Jesus of being a traitor or committing blasphemy against God. However, Jesus gave the correct answer  according to Scripture—and it is the central point of all the commandments. Ironically, the lawyer fell into  his own trap when Jesus answered his question by expanding on what love truly means in daily life. The  lawyer may have known all the correct answers Jesus posed and might have understood them well, but he  failed to live them out. He could not embody the most central aspect of the relationship between God and  humanity, which is love. 

The dialogue in this passage also shows us that the expert failed to absorb, internalize, integrate, and  embody the concepts he already knew. Knowing or even understanding a teaching—in this case, the  command to love God and others—does not mean one has succeeded in living it. The lawyer was able to  answer Jesus’ question correctly, but completely failed to apply it in his life. He had lost—or at least had  grown dull to—the celebration of love for God and others.

Love for God and love for others are the two central teachings in the commandments. People in  Ancient Israel knew this very well, and to be honest, most Christians today also understand this concept.  However, many still fail to practice true love in their lives. One of the reasons is the duality of love—the disconnection between loving God and loving others. Some people believe it is more important to love  God first and then others; others believe the opposite, that loving others is more important than loving God.  This kind of duality distorts our understanding, experience, and practice of love. It often prevents people  from turning love into tangible action, whether toward God or others. This duality is also why we still  witness terrorism, murder, racial hatred, and other harmful acts—results of the absence of love.  Separating love for God from love for others can easily lead religious people into fundamentalist radicalism.  They may believe that loving God means hating those who don’t share the same beliefs or identity, or that  it makes them superior to those of other religions. This is precisely what happened in the relationship  between the Samaritans and the Jews of Jerusalem. That is why Jesus’ parable in this passage became a  challenging teaching for the lawyer and other Jewish religious leaders of the time. The only character who  succeeded in demonstrating love through tangible action was the Samaritan—a person whose identity  was in conflict with theirs. I explained the historical background of the hatred between the Samaritans and  Jews of Jerusalem two weeks ago. The question Jesus asked the lawyer was not meant to measure his  knowledge of the commandments, but rather to provoke self-reflection—for him, and also for us.

That is the lesson I take from our Gospel reading today. Through this teaching, Jesus has shown us  that loving God and others is one unified act of love. They cannot be separated. Each always flows into the  other, pushing us toward radical love. Radical love is not simply about doing good things for others— because as Jesus said, if we only love those who love us back, then that kind of love has lost its meaning.  True love emerges when we show love to those who are not good to us, who are completely different from  us, or who have opposing views. Radical love pushes us to live it out even in uncomfortable  situations—when our ego tempts us to neglect those who hurt us, when our mind leads us to curse  them, and when reality tries to convince us that the world is too broken to love. In this passage, Jesus  not only posed a question to the lawyer, but also extended an invitation—to embrace radical love, a kind  of love that would compel him to break down the wall between Samaritans and Jews of Jerusalem. That  same radical love is also an invitation for us—to break down the walls that exist in our lives. 

There are many tragedies in our history that should be enough to awaken us to the fact that the  world desperately needs radical love. Wars, discrimination, colonialism, slavery, bullying, hate speech,  animal abuse, ecological crisis—these are just some of the ongoing issues that demand our radical love.  But many people fail to respond because they lack the courage to embody radical love and tear down the  walls separating them from others. 

Let me share a piece of history from Indonesia that occurred between 1999 and 2002. We call it  the Ambon Conflict—a violent clash within a single indigenous community in Indonesia. The Ambonese  people live on Ambon Island in eastern Indonesia and are made up of two major religious groups:  Christians and Muslims. They had lived together peacefully for decades. Unfortunately, in 1999, violence  broke out between Christians and Muslims in their own community. More than 5,000 people were killed,  some were beheaded, and hundreds of thousands were displaced from their homes. Some of my own  relatives were nearly killed; some were the killer. The conflict continued until 2002, when both groups  agreed to end the bloodshed by listening to one another. Through the Malino Peace Agreement, they  revived a traditional cultural system in their community called Pela Gandong. This system has long been  part of Ambonese life, fostering peaceful relationships and kinship between villages. Here’s a song about  Pela Gandong: 

Gandong la mari gandong, Mari jua ale o (Come along, my dear) 
Beta mo bilang ale (let me remind you) 
Katong dua satu gandong (The two of us are come from the same womb) 
Hidup ade deng kaka (The life of a younger and older sibling) 
Sungguh manis lawang e (Is truly sweet that can not be defeated) 
Ale rasa beta rasa (I feel what you feel) 
Katong dua satu gandong (we are come from the same womb) 
Gandong e Sio gandong e (Oh my sisters and brothers) 
Mari beta gendong, beta gendong ale jua (let me carry your weight) 
Katong dua cuma satu gandong e (we are come from the same womb) 
Satu hati, satu jantong e (one heart, one soul) 

Through this ancient proverb and tradition, the Ambonese people laid down their egos to celebrate  radical love—a love that breaks down walls. These walls were not just about religious differences, but  about the duality of love itself. 

This is an important lesson for us to reflect on. As people who regularly attend church and hear many  sermons, how often do we truly live them out? The same question applies to the church: has it embodied  love in response to real-world issues? Love is far more complex than we often realize. Today’s reading  reminds us that talking about love is not enough—we are called to live it. When we are reading gospels, we  don’t just study Jesus as both human and divine—we encounter God’s tangible love for the world. Jesus  Christ shows that love is not just an idea but a living presence we can see, touch, and hear. He is the  embodiment of God’s radical love, and this is central to His teaching. 

Let us create radical love in our lives and break down every wall that has separated us from others so they can feel, touch, see, and hear what the love is.