“The biggest disease today is not leprosy or cancer or tuberculosis, but rather the feeling or being unwanted, uncared for, deserted by everybody. The greatest evil is the lack of love and charity, the terrible indifference towards one’s neighbor who lives at the roadside, the victim of exploitation, corruption, poverty, and disease” – Mother Teresa.
For much of human history, the word “neighbor” meant the person who lived next door. Your neighbor was the family whose house you could see from your own window, the people who borrowed your tools, whose kids played with your kids, who knocked on your door when a storm knocked out power. Proximity defined relationship. Geography created responsibility. The neighbor was the one in your path.
Yet Jesus radically expanded this idea.
When He told the parable of the Good Samaritan, He took the familiar question—“Who is my neighbor?”—and turned it inside out. The religious expert wanted boundaries. He wanted clarity—Tell me exactly who I’m obligated to love, and therefore who I’m free to ignore. But Jesus didn’t draw a circle around a select group. Instead, He revealed a heart posture: A neighbor isn’t someone you define. It’s someone you become.
Today, our concept of neighbor feels like it has both expanded and shrunk. With technology, our “next-door” has become global. We can connect instantly with someone across the world, pray for a missionary in Uganda, donate to relief efforts in the Middle East, or join online communities with people we’ve never met in person. In one sense, the whole world is our neighborhood.
But in another sense, the modern world has made neighboring harder. We drive into garages and close the door before anyone sees us. We stare at screens instead of faces. We share posts to large audiences yet avoid personal conversations. We have digital friendships, but sometimes struggle to love the actual humans in our lives. Our hearts stretch far but fail to go deep.
Jesus calls us to both.
He shows us that a neighbor is any person God places on our path—whether across the street or across the ocean. It is the refugee longing for safety. The coworker battling anxiety. The friend who has drifted into bitterness. The barista who remembers your order but goes home to loneliness. The person who holds different political convictions. Even the one who has wounded you.
Neighboring is not a convenience; it is a calling. Jesus Himself “moved into the neighborhood” (John 1:14, MSG). He did not love us from a distance. He drew near—touching lepers, eating with sinners, listening to the overlooked, embracing the broken. He did not wait for us to knock on His door; He left heaven to knock on ours.
Neighbor is no longer found merely by location—but by compassion, presence, and Spirit-led interruption. The neighbor is the one God highlights today, the person whose pain you notice, the stranger you choose to serve, the friend you refuse to give up on.
Discussion Questions:
- According to Jesus’s parable of the Good Samaritan, who is our neighbor? How does that definition challenge our typical, physical understanding of a “neighborhood?”
- How does our modern culture or immediate community influence who we consider a “neighbor?” Where do we see social, economic, or racial boundaries influencing our perception of “neighborliness?”
- How can we examine our own judgments about people—whether based on their appearance, background, or beliefs—and work to treat them with the same love we receive from God?