From Prayer To Repair
Every time there is a new upheaval in the United States, we hear its refrain loudly shared: “Our thoughts and prayers are with you” or “Let’s pray for the victims.”
Prayer matters. Scripture is full of prayers that moved heaven and earth (1 Samuel 1:10–20; Acts 12:5–17). As Christians, we are instructed to pray without ceasing (1 Thessalonians 5:17). But Christ never intended prayer to stand alone. Prayer is the pause that reminds us God is with us and empowering us with His grace to do what we cannot do on our own. Prayer stirs our hearts to compassion and responsive action. Even Christ let compassion stir Him at Lazarus’ tomb when He groaned within Himself (John 11:33–35). Without action, we risk becoming like the priest and the Levite in Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25–37).
Jesus told the parable in response to the question, “Who is my neighbor?” (Luke 10:29). He said:
“A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he encountered robbers, and they stripped him and beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. By coincidence, a priest was going down on that road, and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. Likewise, a Levite also, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan who was on a journey came upon him; and when he saw him, he felt compassion.” (Luke 10:30–33, NASB20)
The Samaritan—the outsider, the one despised—was the one who stopped. He prayed with his hands, his feet, his wallet, and his time. He bound wounds, carried burdens, and invested in healing. Jesus’ conclusion was not “go and pray likewise,” but “Go and do likewise” (Luke 10:37).
We see the same truth in Acts 9:10–19, when Ananias was in prayer and Christ spoke to him. Prayer did not leave him safe in his house—it sent him into the dangerous task of laying hands on Saul, the persecutor of the church. Prayer was the beginning, but obedience and action were the fulfillment.
Centuries later, Jewish teachers would give us the phrase tikkun olam—“repairing the world.” It was their way of teaching that faith must shape society, that prayer must be joined to deeds of justice. Repairing the world begins when we move from piety into practice, from ritual into responsibility.
In our own time, “thoughts and prayers” have become a kind of passing by the wounded on the other side of the road. When leaders offer them without action, their words ring hollow.
The Pharisees once sneered at Jesus, calling Him a Samaritan (John 8:48). They thought they were insulting Him. Yet Jesus turned the insult into an image of what true love looks like. To follow Christ is to embrace that same radical compassion: not passing by, not pacifying the hurting with words, but embodying mercy in practical, sacrificial ways.
So the next time we are tempted to let the “thoughts and prayers” post be enough, let’s remember Hannah’s faithful petition, the church’s prayers for Peter, Ananias’ obedience after prayer, the Samaritan’s mercy, and the rabbis’ vision of tikkun olam. Prayer is the beginning. Repair is the goal. Love in action is its fulfillment.
Prayer
Dear Heavenly Father,
I love to be in Your presence, and I love to lift up those who are hurting before You. Yet through this study, I see there may be places where I’ve been passive—where I could have stepped forward more boldly. Father, I ask You to stir my heart with the same compassion that moved Jesus to groan at Lazarus’ tomb (John 11:33–35).
Give me fervor, Lord, and let that compassion not stay in my heart alone but move through my hands, my feet, and my voice. Teach me to walk in Your love and live in the spirit of tikkun olam—to do my part in healing the hurting, guiding the lost, comforting the broken, and helping to repair our world as a whole.
Through Christ, let your will be done in me.
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