“Who is My Neighbor?”
A Christian Reflection on Luke 10:29
In Luke 10:29, a lawyer seeking to justify himself asks Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” This question follows directly after Jesus affirms that the greatest commandments are to love God with all our heart, soul, strength, and mind—and to love our neighbor as ourselves. At first glance, the lawyer’s question may seem sincere, even pious. But as Luke makes clear, it was not an honest inquiry born of spiritual hunger, but a calculated effort “to justify himself.” His aim was not to understand the heart of the Law, but to limit its demands.
This brief question—“Who is my neighbor?”—reveals the human tendency to restrict love to those we deem worthy, to categorize people into groups who are deserving or undeserving of compassion. Jesus responds not with a list of definitions or boundaries, but with a story—a parable that has transcended centuries and cultures to become a central emblem of Christian ethics: the Parable of the Good Samaritan.
The Parable and Its Provocation
In the parable (Luke 10:30–37), Jesus tells of a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho, who is attacked by robbers and left for dead. A priest and a Levite—both esteemed members of religious society—see the man but pass by on the other side. Finally, a Samaritan comes upon him, has compassion, and goes out of his way to care for him, even paying for his continued recovery.
For Jesus’ original audience, this story was provocative. Samaritans were despised by Jews, viewed as religious heretics and ethnic half-breeds. They were not merely outsiders; they were enemies. Yet it is the Samaritan, not the religious elite, who fulfills the command to love.
In turning the lawyer’s question on its head, Jesus forces a profound reconsideration. The question is not “Who qualifies as my neighbor?” but “How can I be a neighbor to others?” The emphasis shifts from identifying others to examining ourselves.
Love Without Borders
The lawyer’s question, “Who is my neighbor?”, seeks a limit. It asks, in effect: How far does love go? Who is inside the circle of obligation, and who can be safely ignored? Jesus obliterates the circle. In His teaching, neighbor-love is not about proximity, ethnicity, religion, or moral worthiness. It is about compassion.
Jesus is not simply redefining "neighbor" to mean “everyone.” He is redefining the self as one who becomes a neighbor. The command to love is not rooted in the identity of the other, but in the disposition of the self. The Good Samaritan didn’t stop to ask whether the man in the ditch was worthy, whether he was a Jew or a Gentile, a sinner or a saint. He saw suffering, and he was moved.
This strikes at the core of Christian ethics. Our love is not to be reactive, but proactive. We do not love only those who love us or those who look like us, think like us, or worship like us. As Jesus said elsewhere, “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them” (Luke 6:32).
A Costly Love
The love Jesus calls for is costly. The Samaritan not only feels compassion—he acts. He bandages wounds, lifts the man onto his own animal, brings him to an inn, pays for his care, and promises to return. His love costs him time, money, convenience, and risk. He enters the danger of the Jericho road, interrupts his journey, and opens himself to potential suspicion or danger.
Real love—neighbor-love—is like this. It is not a sentiment but a sacrifice. It inconveniences us. It calls us beyond our comfort zones. It may require us to care for the wounded in ways that are messy, complex, and open-ended. It pushes us beyond charity into solidarity.
In a world that often measures success in terms of personal fulfillment and self-protection, such love appears foolish. But it is the way of Christ. It is the way of the cross.
The Pattern of Christ
We must not miss that the parable is not merely moral instruction—it is a reflection of Jesus Himself. He is the ultimate Good Samaritan. He saw us, broken by sin and left for dead by the side of life’s road. He did not pass by. He had compassion. He came to us, touched our wounds, bore our burden, and paid the price for our healing. He poured out His own life to restore ours.
When Jesus tells the lawyer to “Go and do likewise,” He is not setting a standard we can meet by sheer effort. He is inviting us into a life that is only possible through Him. As we receive His mercy, we become people of mercy. As we are loved, so we love. The call to love our neighbor is grounded in the gospel: “We love because He first loved us” (1 John 4:19).
Who Is Not My Neighbor?
There is a sobering implication here: to ask “Who is my neighbor?” is, in a sense, to ask “Who can I not love?” The question becomes an act of self-justification, an attempt to draw a boundary around moral responsibility.
But Jesus allows no such boundary. The neighbor includes the outsider, the enemy, the one who might hate you or misunderstand you. In our own time, it might include the undocumented immigrant, the political opponent, the estranged family member, or the mentally ill homeless man on the street corner.
The call to be a neighbor means moving toward those from whom we might naturally recoil. It means refusing to dehumanize others. It means seeing the image of God even in the wounded, the inconvenient, and the hostile.
The Church as a Community of Neighbors
For Christians, the Church must be a community that practices neighbor-love in tangible ways. This includes hospitality to strangers, care for the poor, advocacy for the marginalized, and forgiveness toward those who wrong us. It also includes love within the body—between believers who may differ in background, personality, or opinion.
We cannot proclaim a gospel of grace while living lives of exclusion. We cannot celebrate the mercy of God toward us while withholding it from others. The Church is called to embody the parable, to be a people who cross the road, bind up wounds, and bear burdens.
This is especially important in a divided world. Political, racial, and cultural fractures threaten to turn neighbor into enemy. But the Christian must resist such tribalism. Our allegiance is first to Christ, and He calls us to love not with preconditions, but with mercy.
“Go and Do Likewise”
At the end of the parable, Jesus does not directly answer the lawyer’s original question. Instead, He asks, “Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?” The lawyer answers, “The one who showed him mercy.” And Jesus says, “You go, and do likewise.”
This is the heart of the matter. Being a neighbor is not about geographic or social proximity—it is about mercy. It is about seeing others through the eyes of Christ and responding with compassion, even when it costs us.
So when we ask, “Who is my neighbor?”, we must be ready for the answer: anyone in need, regardless of who they are. And we must ask a deeper question still: Am I being a neighbor?
To follow Jesus is to take the road less traveled—the road of the Good Samaritan, the road of costly love. May we walk that road, not to justify ourselves, but because we have already been justified by grace.