A Reflection on Service and Sacrifice

Simon helped carry the Cross. Who in your life needs you to carry a burden today?

Have you ever driven past someone stranded on the side of the road and felt that little tug in your heart? The one that whispers, stop and help?

This morning, as I drove my son to school, we, as always, were praying the Rosary. We had just started into the Sorrowful Mysteries when we noticed a man and his daughter pulled over with a flat tire. Dozens of cars sped past them. I felt that tug to stop, but I also knew I needed to get my son to school. So I told myself, if they are still there when I come back, I will stop and help.

I dropped him off, gave him his blessing and told him I loved him, and picked the Rosary back up as I drove away. By the time as I circled back, I was well into the Second Sorrowful Mystery, the Scourging at the Pillar. Sure enough, the man and his daughter were still stranded. The tug returned, stronger this time. I knew what I had to do. I pulled over, parked, and walked toward them.

I don’t share this story to pat myself on the back. I share it because moments like this remind me of what Jesus taught us: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 12:31).

It’s simple, isn’t it? Love your neighbor. Yet in our world, love often gets drowned out by fear, pride, and selfishness. People pass by because they are in a hurry. Because someone looks different. Because it feels safer to avoid. But love does not calculate like that. Love shows up.

As I jacked up their car and loosened the lug nuts, we struck up a conversation. And here’s the part that floored me. He had just dropped his son off at the same school I had. Not only that, but our sons are in the same class. He was on his way to drop his daughter off at her school when this happened. What started as a flat tire turned into a small sign that our lives are more connected than we think. A ‘small world’ moment, but also a God moment.

I thought about where I was in the Rosary as I paused to serve. The Second Sorrowful Mystery is about Jesus being scourged, taking lashes He did not deserve, bearing pain out of love for us. In a way, that mystery invites us to think about the wounds we take on for others. The sweat, the strain, even the inconvenience. They can all become small acts of Love.

By the time I finished helping and got back in my car, I picked up my Rosary again. As I prayed through the rest of the Sorrowful Mysteries, I could not shake what had just happened. When I reached the Fourth Mystery, the Carrying of the Cross, I shed a tear. I realized the point of this week’s blog had just been given to me. All those other idea, were going to be for another week. Today, I was not just praying the Rosary. I had lived a piece of it. I had been given the chance to be Simon of Cyrene for a neighbor in need on the side of the road.

Jesus told us clearly: “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me” (Matthew 25:40). That flat tire became more than a task. It was an encounter with Him.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how we love. Not in theory. Not in slogans. But in action. Love is rarely convenient. It costs time, comfort, even pride. But when we stop and serve, something happens. We see Christ in others, and they see Christ in us.

It made me reflect on the way Jesus showed His wounds after the Resurrection. He didn’t hide them. He held them out as proof of His love. “Peace be with you… look at my hands and my feet” (Luke 24:36, 39). Those wounds are not marks of defeat. They are signs of Love poured out.

The aches and pains we feel after serving, the tiredness from long days of helping, those too can be holy wounds. Not signs that we’ve been drained, but signs that we’ve poured out Love.

Love is not only for the big sacrifices. It’s for the small ones too. A hug instead of a harsh word. A pause before we snap back. A ride given to someone without a car.

Think of it like sports. Games aren’t won by a single touchdown alone. They’re won play by play, block by block, with players who choose to give of themselves over and over until the clock runs out. That’s what love is. Not one dramatic act, but daily choices that add up to something eternal.

And those choices cost something. This weekend alone, I spent hours volunteering at our parish festival on my feet, over  a hot grill and then coached two of my son’s team’s games in the hot sun. And this does not include all the chaos at work the last few days. My body was sore, my energy low. Yet the Spirit reminded me, there is always more love to give. Because Jesus gave everything.

“No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13).

He laid down His life for us. The least I can do is lay down a little time on the side of the road.

The early Church understood this call to love in a radical way. Acts 2 tells us that believers “had all things in common” and “every day they devoted themselves to meeting together in the temple area and to breaking bread in their homes.” They were not content to love with words alone. They shared meals, possessions, and time. They lived as though each person was family. That is Love in action. That is the neighborly Love Jesus was speaking about.

As I thought back to the man and his daughter once they were safely back on the road, I realized the Rosary had unfolded in a new way for me that morning. It was no longer only beads and prayers. It became flesh. The Mysteries were no longer something far away. They became real in my hands, in the grease on my fingers, in the smile of a stranger who turned out not to be a stranger at all. That is what the Rosary is meant to do. It pulls us into the mysteries of Christ until they shape how we live and how we love.

And the truth is, our world needs more Simons. People who are willing to step in when it is not convenient. People who see others not as interruptions but as opportunities to love.

I know it is not always easy. We have full schedules. We are pulled in a hundred directions. And sometimes we convince ourselves that someone else will stop, someone else will help, someone else will notice. But the truth is, you are the someone. God places people in your path not by accident but by providence.

Love is not measured by how much recognition we get. Love is measured by how much of ourselves we are willing to give. Even when no one sees. Even when no one says thank you.

The world says love is a feeling. But Jesus shows us love is a choice. It is sacrifice. It is service. When we give a part of ourselves away, we do not lose anything. We gain more of Him.

So, here’s my invitation for you this week. Ask yourself: Who is on the side of the road in your life? Who have you been passing by, maybe without even noticing?

It doesn’t have to be a flat tire. It could be a neighbor who needs a kind word. A coworker who needs patience. A family member who needs forgiveness.

Don’t wait for the big moment. Start small. Open your hands. Offer Love.

Because every act of love, no matter how hidden, points back to the Cross. And every time you love your neighbor, you love Him.