Sometimes I look back on a situation and wonder why I didn’t do something.
Maybe I noticed someone who could have used a little help. Maybe I felt that quiet prompting to say something, offer something, or simply take a few minutes out of my day. But I hesitated. I was busy, distracted, or maybe a little embarrassed about how the person might respond.
Other times, I’ve had that same feeling and acted on it. And afterward, I’ve been glad I did.
The more I grow in my faith, the more I think about those moments. Not because I’m keeping track of what I’ve done right or wrong, but because I’m beginning to recognize how many opportunities we have to honor God in ordinary life.
That brings me to something Jesus said in the parable of the sheep and the goats, found in Matthew 25:31–46.
The Parable of the Sheep and the Goats
In Matthew 25, Jesus describes a time when He will return in glory and all the nations will be gathered before Him. He separates the people as a shepherd separates sheep from goats, placing the sheep on His right and the goats on His left.
The sheep are welcomed into eternal life, while the goats face eternal punishment.
That’s a serious distinction, and I don’t think we should overlook it.
What interests me is what Jesus says to those on His right. He speaks about being hungry and receiving food, being thirsty and receiving something to drink, being a stranger and being welcomed, and being sick or in prison and receiving a visit.
The righteous are surprised. They ask when they ever saw Him in those circumstances.
Jesus answers:
“Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”
— Matthew 25:40 (NIV)
Think about that for a moment.
They knew they had helped people. What they hadn’t realized was that, in doing so, they were serving Jesus Himself.
There was no mention of them keeping a record of their generosity or presenting a list of accomplishments. They were genuinely surprised by what Jesus told them.
That part of the parable has stayed with me.
Grace Comes Before Anything We Do
I think it’s important to be clear about something before going any further.
This parable isn’t teaching that we can earn our way into heaven by doing enough good deeds.
If that were the case, how would we ever know when we’d done enough? How many people would we need to help? How many opportunities could we afford to miss?
That’s not the gospel.
Ephesians 2:8–9 tells us that salvation is God’s gift, received through faith, not something we accomplish through our own efforts.
Jesus did what we could never do for ourselves. His death and resurrection made possible the forgiveness and eternal life we receive through faith in Him.
And yet Matthew 25 is still a passage about judgment. Jesus speaks plainly about eternal life and eternal punishment. We shouldn’t ignore those words or try to make them mean something less serious.
The way I understand these passages together is that our actions don’t purchase salvation, but they can reveal something about what’s happening in our hearts.
Another parable that reminds me how freely God offers His grace is the story of the prodigal son. I explored that in The Father Who Ran to His Son, a reflection on forgiveness, grace, and the father’s love for his returning son.
A genuine relationship with Christ should make a difference in how we see and treat others.
Not perfectly. Certainly not in my case.
But as we grow in faith, something begins to change. We become more aware of others, more willing to show compassion, and more interested in honoring God than receiving credit for ourselves.
At least, that’s what I’ve been learning.
Recognizing the Quiet Opportunities
I’ve come to believe there are times when the Holy Spirit puts something on my heart.
It might be an opportunity to use a God-given talent or skill to help someone, offer financial assistance, provide encouragement, or simply approach a person I might otherwise walk past.
Sometimes I’ve listened to that prompting. Other times I’ve talked myself out of it.
And the reasons aren’t always particularly good ones.
Maybe I thought the person would find it strange. Maybe I didn’t want to embarrass them or myself. Or maybe I was so wrapped up in whatever I had going on that I convinced myself it wasn’t the right time.
Life can get noisy.
We have responsibilities, appointments, problems to solve, and things constantly competing for our attention. Before long, it’s easy to become so focused on what we’re doing that we barely notice what’s happening around us.
I don’t believe every passing thought is necessarily the Holy Spirit speaking. But I do believe God can prompt us in ways that are easy to dismiss if we’re not paying attention.
And I’ve found that when I do respond, it often turns out to be something simple.
Nothing dramatic. Nothing that anyone would consider particularly impressive.
Just an opportunity to help another person.
I think that’s part of what makes the sheep’s response in Matthew 25 so meaningful. Jesus wasn’t talking about extraordinary accomplishments. He was talking about people responding to ordinary human needs.
And those things mattered to Him.
When Nobody Else Knows
There’s another teaching of Jesus that I often think about alongside this parable.
In Matthew 6, Jesus talks about giving to those in need and warns against doing it for the purpose of being noticed by others.
He says:
“But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing,”
— Matthew 6:3 (NIV)
I’ve tried to make that part of how I live.
If I can help someone without anyone else knowing about it, I prefer it that way. There’s no reason to announce it or tell somebody afterward.
It’s simply something I wanted to do to honor God.
And I have to admit, there’s a certain satisfaction in that. Not because I’m looking for a good feeling, but because there’s something meaningful about doing something for another person and knowing that God is the only one who needs to know.
Of course, I’m human.
Every once in a while, a little pride can creep in. I might catch myself thinking about what a nice thing I did.
And then I have to remind myself: What am I taking credit for?
Look at everything God has already given me.
Above everything else, He’s given me His grace. Something I could never earn, do not deserve, and certainly could never repay.
That puts things back into perspective pretty quickly.
I don’t always get that right either. But I think recognizing those moments is part of growing in faith.
It’s not about pretending we’re better than we are. It’s about remembering who deserves the honor.
Growing in Faith Without Keeping Score
One thing I would never want someone to take away from this passage is the feeling that they need to leave church, go home, and start finding more good deeds to perform.
I’ve never believed that guilt should be the driving force behind our relationship with God.
That doesn’t mean we ignore the things we do wrong. Scripture calls us to recognize sin and turn from it. Sometimes that means acknowledging something we’d rather not face.
But there’s a difference between recognizing where we need to change and spending our lives feeling that we’ll never do enough to please God. He knows our hearts. He knows when we’re sincerely trying to follow Him, even when we fall short.
We won’t earn His grace by trying harder.
It’s already a gift.
What I’ve found is that the more I understand that gift, the more I want to honor the One who gave it to me.
And that desire changes the way I look at things.
Helping someone becomes less about whether I’ve done my share and more about recognizing an opportunity to show the love Christ has shown me.
I still miss those opportunities. I still get distracted, hesitate, and sometimes let pride get in the way.
But I keep coming back to Jesus.
I don’t have this all figured out, and I don’t expect I ever will on this side of eternity. I just hope that as I continue growing in faith, I become a little more willing to listen and respond.
Not to earn anything.
Simply because of what I’ve already been given.
What Will Jesus See?
The parable of the sheep and the goats is a serious teaching about judgment. Jesus makes clear that there is an eternal difference between those He welcomes and those He turns away.
But tucked within that serious message is something I find remarkable.
The sheep were surprised.
They hadn’t realized that the ordinary compassion they’d shown others had also been an expression of their relationship with Him.
I wonder how many moments like that pass through our lives.
Some we recognize. Some we miss. And some may seem so small that we never give them another thought.
Maybe that’s part of growing closer to Christ. Not becoming more impressed with what we’ve done, but becoming more aware of Him and the people around us.
And perhaps some of the things that matter most to Jesus are things we’ll never think to take credit for.
More Straight Talk on Faith
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