“Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in the power of your hands to do so” (v. 27). Wisdom reveals herself not only in discernment but also in generosity. What God gives us is never static; His gifts move outward, seeking the neighbor. Righteousness comes to us as sheer gift, received by faith alone, yet that gift doesn’t remain inert. It animates the hands. The Lord doesn’t entrust us with time, resources, strength, or opportunity just so we can barricade them behind fear or convenience. When good is within reach and need stands before us, restraint isn’t prudence but a failure to love. The hand that clutches tight cannot reflect the open hands of Christ.
“Do not say to your neighbor, ‘Go, and come back, and tomorrow I will give it,’ when you have it with you” (v. 28). Mercy delayed often disguises itself as responsibility, but Wisdom exposes the excuse. A person’s need hardly ever arrives on our schedule. The neighbor who asks today does so under God’s providence, not by accident, even if it does inconvenience your daily schedule. To postpone compassion is to risk training the heart in apathy. Wisdom recognizes the moment for what it is: a summons. Love, when it’s genuine, moves with urgency. It understands that tomorrow is never promised, and that the present is the only time obedience can be rendered.
“Do not devise evil against your neighbor, for he dwells by you for your safety’s sake” (v. 29). Proximity isn’t incidental; it is vocational. To live near another person is to be entrusted with their peace. Neighborhoods are meant to be places of refuge, not rivalry, and spaces of mutual care instead of quiet enmity. Wisdom honors the fragile bond of trust that makes common life possible. When suspicion hardens into strategy, and resentment becomes calculation, the fabric of the community begins to tear. God places us beside one another so that His care may be mediated through ordinary faithfulness—through honesty, restraint, and goodwill.
“Do not strive with a man without cause if he has done you no harm” (v. 30). Wisdom doesn’t hunger for conflict; she refuses to provoke, escalate, or vindicate the self at another’s expense. In a culture addicted to outrage and spectacle, restraint becomes a form of witness. The wise distinguish between genuine injustice and wounded pride. They know when to speak and when to be silent—when to resist and when to bear. Christ Himself endured accusation without retaliation, entrusting His cause to His Father who judges justly (1 Peter 2:23). In Him, we learn that strength isn’t proven by strife but by peace.
Therefore, let Wisdom govern your hands and temper your heart. Give when it’s within your power to do so. Act when mercy calls. Guard the trust of those placed near you. Refuse needless contention. In doing so, your life will quietly echo the generosity, patience, and peace of the God who withheld nothing from you, not even His own Son (Romans 8:32).
The Lutheran Column 