Love Is a Verb: When Comfort Gets Costly

Jesus’ words in Luke 6 stop me cold every time:

“Woe to you who are rich, for you have already received your comfort.”

He’s not condemning wealth — He’s confronting comfort.

And that’s a hard word in a world where we work hard for comfort.

This third entry in the Love Is a Verb series isn’t about money management or guilt. It’s about spiritual numbness — the kind that creeps in when we get so used to our blessings that we stop noticing who’s been left out of them.

In Luke 16, Jesus tells the story of a rich man and a poor man named Lazarus. The rich man isn’t cruel. He’s not abusive. He’s just… indifferent.

He never noticed the suffering at his gate. And that’s the indictment.

This is where biblical justice comes in. We often think of justice as grand gestures or political positions. But sometimes, justice is just learning to see — to notice the needs at our gate. To loosen our grip. To let someone else in.

If love is a verb, then justice is love’s hardest expression — the one that costs us something.

It costs us convenience.
It costs us pride.
It might even cost us the illusion that we’ve earned everything we have.

The danger of comfort is that it lulls us into complacency. When life is good, we don’t tend to ask hard questions. We protect our rhythms, we preserve our time, and slowly, our hearts harden to what’s happening outside our carefully arranged lives.

But following Jesus isn’t about insulation. It’s about incarnation — moving toward pain, not away from it.

So what does that look like?

It looks like asking:

Who is at my gate right now?

Is it the single parent in my neighborhood?

The coworker no one checks on?

The family that can’t afford groceries this week?

They may not be Lazarus in rags — but they’re still on the margins.

You don’t have to have a lot to live generously. You don’t have to be wealthy to live justly. But you do have to be awake. Awake to the Spirit. Awake to the suffering around you. And awake to the subtle ways our comfort can blind us to the cries we were called to answer.

We serve a Savior who laid down the riches of heaven to walk among the poor. If we’re going to follow Him, we’ll have to wrestle with what that means for our lives — not just what we believe, but what we do.

This reflection is based on a sermon I preached called “Rich,” and if it strikes a chord with you — especially if you’re a pastor or church leader — you can read the full message here: 👉 Download Sermon 3: Rich

Believing,

Pastor Cal