Neighboring

Proper 10, Year C

Luke 10:25-37

In our Gospel reading, a scribe stands up and asks Jesus one of the most important questions anyone could ask: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus, as he so often does, answers with a question, drawing the scribe back to the commandments: “What is written in the law?” The scribe rightly summarizes the law—love God and love your neighbor as yourself. Jesus affirms him, saying, “Do this and you will live.”

But the scribe presses further, looking to justify himself. “And who is my neighbor?” he asks. This is the moment Jesus tells the now-famous parable of the Good Samaritan. At first glance, the story appears to be a moral tale about doing good to others. But as we look closer, Jesus is not merely offering a lesson on kindness—he is revealing himself.

Notice that Jesus shifts the question. The scribe asks, “Who is my neighbor?”—a noun. But Jesus ends the story asking, “Who was neighboring the man?”—a verb. The point is not simply to identify a neighbor but to become one, to practice neighboring. And what does neighboring look like? The scribe answers rightly again: “The one who showed mercy.”

This becomes the key: mercy defines neighboring. But Jesus doesn’t stop at teaching. He embeds deeper meaning into the parable through vivid details: a man going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, wounds treated with oil and wine, an inn and an innkeeper. These aren’t incidental—they are clues. They’re a treasure map pointing to Jesus himself.

To see this clearly, we turn to the end of Luke’s Gospel. In Luke 24, the resurrected Christ tells his disciples that all Scripture—Moses, the prophets, the Psalms, and his own teachings—are about him and are fulfilled in him. This includes parables. Jesus, on the road to Emmaus, explains that everything points to him. So when we return to the Good Samaritan with this lens, we don’t see ourselves first—we see Jesus.

Jesus is the Good Samaritan. He is the one who traveled from heaven to earth, who found Adam (humanity) lying beaten and broken by sin on the side of the road. The law (the priest) and the prophets (the Levite) pass by, unable to heal. But Jesus stops. He binds up our wounds with his blood (the wine) and his Spirit (the oil). He lifts us onto his own beast—his cross—and carries us to the inn, the church, where we are to be tended and healed.

The innkeeper? The pastor. The body of Christ. Those entrusted to continue the work of mercy Jesus began. Jesus gives the church gifts—time, resources, talents—and says, “Care for them until I return. I will repay you.”

This is not a modern reinterpretation. This Christ-centered reading is ancient. The early church fathers saw Adam in the wounded man and Jesus in the Samaritan. The parable is not just a story; it’s a gospel in miniature. It’s a portrait of salvation and a call to join the ongoing work of Christ.

So what does this mean for us? First, it means recognizing that we are all Adam—we were all wounded and in need, and Jesus has already neighbored us. Second, it means that now, as the Church, we are the inn. Christ brings people to us, and we are to continue his work. This is our calling: to be a neighboring community.

Are we structured to do this well? Do we use our budget, our gatherings, our facilities with this in mind—to neighbor those Jesus is bringing in? Do we spend ourselves knowing Jesus will repay us? The Gospel calls us to be different from the world—not in theory, but in love, in service, in mercy. We are to shine as a city of refuge, a household of healing.

So let us not see the Good Samaritan as merely a moral ideal, but as the embodiment of Christ’s love. And let us be moved—not to try harder on our own—but to join Jesus in his work. He is the true neighbor, and now, by his Spirit, he invites us to live as his innkeepers.

Watch the full Sermon HERE. Listen to Sermon HERE.

Peace Be With You,

Pastor Bruce