If I ever started a church of my own, I already know what I’d call it: The Church of the Good Samaritan.

That parable, the one Jesus told in response to the question “And who is my neighbor?” (Luke 10:29), has always defined what I think the church — and life — is supposed to be about. The Samaritan didn’t ask where the wounded man lived, what he believed, or if he deserved help. He saw a need and acted with compassion. He didn’t just walk by. He stopped.

That’s what being a good neighbor really is: stopping. Seeing. Helping.

It’s the model Jesus gave us for how to treat each other. Not just the people who live next door, but the people we meet on the road — in traffic, in line at the grocery store, in the classroom, on the margins of our lives. If we take His words seriously, then everyone is our neighbor, and every day gives us a new chance to “go and do likewise.”

The early church understood that. Their love and generosity changed the world. The pagans around them didn’t understand why these Christians cared for strangers, but they couldn’t ignore the difference it made. They tried to imitate that compassion by giving away things — wine, meat, coins — but they missed the point. The Christians weren’t just giving stuff. They were giving themselves.

That’s what the world still needs from us — not the transactional kind of kindness that checks a box, but the kind that listens, that lifts, that lingers beside someone hurting. The kind that asks, “What do you really need?” and stays to help meet it.

So what makes a good neighbor?
The same thing that made the Samaritan “good.”
Mercy. Compassion. Love in action.

If we lived that way — in our homes, our schools, our churches, and our neighborhoods — the world might just start to heal in places we’ve given up on.

Copyright © 2025 Doug DeBolt.