Go and Do Likewise

Opening: The Scroll and the Screen

Imagine you're scrolling through your phone and you see a video of someone being attacked on the street. What's your first instinct? Record it for social media? Call 911? Keep walking? Or maybe just keep scrolling—after all, someone else will handle it, right?

This isn't just a modern dilemma. Two thousand years ago, a lawyer asked Jesus a question he thought he already knew the answer to, only to discover he knew nothing at all about what it truly means to love your neighbor. Today we're going to look at one of Jesus' most familiar stories, but I want us to see it with fresh eyes—not just as a nice moral tale, but as a revolutionary call to put our faith into radical action.

Last month, I read about a man in Detroit who saw a house fire while driving to work. The first responders hadn't arrived yet. This man—who happened to be Muslim—ran into the burning house and saved an elderly Jewish woman. When reporters asked him why he risked his life for a stranger, especially given the religious tensions in the news, he simply said, "She was my neighbor." That man understood something the lawyer in our passage was about to learn: faith isn't just what we believe—it's how we love.

To put our faith in action, we need to cross boundaries sometimes, especially since we are called to serve like Jesus. We are to serve others in need, actively seeking opportunities to express our faith through acts of kindness and service. Faith is not just a belief system, but a lifestyle committed to showing love and compassion to others, especially those who are marginalized or suffering.

Knowing Leads to Acting

Luke 10:25–28 NKJV

25 And behold, a certain lawyer stood up and tested Him, saying, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” 26 He said to him, “What is written in the law? What is your reading of it?” 27 So he answered and said, “ ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind,’ and ‘your neighbor as yourself.’ ” 28 And He said to him, “You have answered rightly; do this and you will live.”

Here's what's fascinating about this exchange: the lawyer already knew the answer. He could quote Deuteronomy 6:5 and Leviticus 19:18 from memory. He had probably taught these verses to others. But knowing and doing are two very different things.

Jesus doesn't give him new information—He gives him a new challenge. "You have answered rightly; do this and you will live." In other words: you already know the answer, now go live it. Knowledge without action is spiritual bankruptcy.

How often do we fall into the same trap? We know we should love God with everything we have. We know we should love our neighbors as ourselves. We've heard these truths hundreds of times. But Jesus isn't interested in our theological knowledge—He's interested in our transformed lives.

The question that should haunt us is this: If someone followed you around for a week, would they be able to tell what you believe by how you live? Would they see love for God expressed through love for others? Or would they see someone who knows all the right answers but struggles to live them out?

Personal Reflection Moment: Take a moment right now and think about this past week. When did you have an opportunity to show love to someone—and how did you respond?

We see Jesus connecting eternal life with love for God and love for neighbor. This sets the stage for understanding that faith is not just a passive belief, but an active duty to love. The lawyer's question opens up the focus: fulfilling the law by demonstrating genuine, actionable love.

But the lawyer isn't done. He has a follow-up question that reveals the condition of his heart.

2. The Question That Reveals Everything

Luke 10:29 But he, wanting to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

Notice what Luke tells us about the lawyer's motivation: he was "wanting to justify himself." He wasn't asking this question to gain understanding—he was asking it to find a loophole. He wanted to limit his obligation, to create boundaries around his responsibility to love.

This is human nature at its finest, isn't it? We want to love our neighbors, but we'd prefer to choose who qualifies as our neighbor. We want to help people, but only the "right" people. The people who are like us. The people who are grateful. The people who deserve it.

In first-century Jewish thinking, "neighbor" typically meant fellow Jews, particularly those in your local community. The lawyer was essentially asking, "How narrow can I make this circle? How few people do I actually have to care about?"

Jesus' response is one of the most brilliant and challenging parables ever told. And to understand just how radical it was, we need to grasp the cultural earthquake Jesus was about to unleash.

3. The Road of Vulnerability

Luke 10:30–32 NKJV

30 Then Jesus answered and said: “A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, who stripped him of his clothing, wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead. 31 Now by chance a certain priest came down that road. And when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. 32 Likewise a Levite, when he arrived at the place, came and looked, and passed by on the other side.

The road from Jerusalem to Jericho was notorious. It dropped 3,300 feet in elevation over 17 miles of winding, rocky terrain perfect for ambushes. Travelers called it "The Way of Blood" because robberies were so common. This wasn't an unusual scenario—everyone listening would have known someone who had been attacked on this road.

But here's what Jesus is setting up: He places a victim—someone completely vulnerable, stripped of everything that would identify his social status, ethnicity, or religion. In his nakedness and unconsciousness, he could be anyone. He could be you.

Then come the religious professionals. First, a priest—someone who has dedicated his life to serving God in the temple. He sees the man, and he crosses to the other side of the road. Then a Levite—an assistant to the priests, someone whose job it is to help maintain the worship of God. He doesn't just see the man; Luke tells us he "came and looked." He got close enough to assess the situation. And then he too passed by on the other side.

Now, we might want to judge these men harshly, but let's be honest about their reasoning. They likely had legitimate concerns. If they touched a dead body, they would become ceremonially unclean and unable to perform their religious duties. They might have been worried about ritual purity. Perhaps they feared this was a trap—that robbers were waiting to attack anyone who stopped to help. Maybe they were late for important religious obligations.

But here's what Jesus is showing us: when religious obligation conflicts with human compassion, something is terribly wrong with our religion. When our schedules, our comfort, our reputation, or even our church activities become more important than the wounded person right in front of us, we've missed the heart of God entirely.

Modern Application Pause: Think about your own life. When have you "crossed to the other side" because helping someone would be inconvenient, messy, or risky? When have you been too busy with good things—even church things—to notice the need right in front of you?

The priest and Levite weren't necessarily cruel people. They were just... busy. Distracted. Focused on other priorities. Their inaction serves as a cautionary tale against the subtle indifference that can creep into even the most religious lives.

4. The Scandalous Hero

Luke 10:33–35 NKJV

33 But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was. And when he saw him, he had compassion. 34 So he went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine; and he set him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. 35 On the next day, when he departed, he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said to him, ‘Take care of him; and whatever more you spend, when I come again, I will repay you.’

To understand the shockwave Jesus just sent through His audience, we need to grasp the depth of Jewish-Samaritan hatred. This wasn't just prejudice—it was centuries of bitter, entrenched hostility.

In 722 BC, the Assyrians conquered northern Israel and deported many Jews, bringing in foreign settlers who intermarried with the remaining Jewish population. These mixed-race descendants became the Samaritans. Jews considered them ethnically impure and religiously heretical. Samaritans had built their own temple on Mount Gerizim, competing with Jerusalem. The hatred was so intense that Jews would add three or four days to their journey to avoid traveling through Samaria.

Just thirty years before Jesus told this parable, some Samaritans had scattered human bones in the Jerusalem temple during Passover, defiling it. The wounds were fresh, the hatred raw.

So when Jesus makes a Samaritan—not a respected priest or devout Levite—the hero of His story, His audience would have been scandalized. Some might have walked away. Others might have been angry. Jesus wasn't just giving an example of kindness; He was shattering their prejudices with a sledgehammer.

But look at what this Samaritan does. The text says he "had compassion." The Greek word is splagchnizomai—a term that describes a gut-level emotion, a deep stirring in the bowels that compels someone to act. This is the same word used when Jesus looks at crowds and is moved with compassion. The Samaritan doesn't just feel sorry for the man—he is emotionally overwhelmed to the point of action.

And what action it is! He uses his own supplies: oil and wine (expensive medical supplies), his own transportation, his own time and money. Oil was used to soothe wounds; wine as an antiseptic. He puts the wounded man on his own animal and walks alongside. He takes him to an inn and stays the night, personally caring for him.

The next day, he pays the innkeeper two denarii—two days' wages for an average worker—and promises to cover any additional expenses. This wasn't pocket change; this was sacrificial giving. He was essentially writing a blank check for a stranger.

Let's pause here for a story: In 2019, a homeless veteran named Johnny was walking through a wealthy suburb when he collapsed from diabetes complications. Three people drove past him. The fourth person to see him was Maria, an undocumented immigrant who worked as a housekeeper in the neighborhood. She stopped her bicycle, called 911, and stayed with Johnny until the ambulance arrived. When the EMTs asked if she was family, she said, "No, but he's my neighbor." She visited him in the hospital every day for a week, bringing homemade soup. Johnny later said, "The people who looked most like me ignored me. The person who helped me was someone many would say didn't belong in that neighborhood. But she taught me what a neighbor really is."

The Samaritan's love isn't convenient or cheap. It costs him. It disrupts his plans. It risks his safety and his reputation. And that's exactly the point Jesus is making: authentic love always costs something.

5. The Lawyer’s Dilemma

Luke 10:36 So which of these three do you think was neighbor to him who fell among the thieves?” 37 And he said, “He who showed mercy on him.” Then Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”

Notice something profound here: Jesus completely flips the lawyer's original question. The lawyer asked, "Who is my neighbor?"—trying to limit his circle of responsibility. Jesus responds by asking, "Which of these was a neighbor?"—shifting the focus from who deserves our love to how we can actively show love.

The question isn't "Who qualifies as my neighbor?" The question is "To whom can I be a neighbor?"

And notice that the lawyer can't even say the word "Samaritan." The prejudice runs so deep that he simply says, "He who showed mercy." That word—mercy—is eleos in Greek. It doesn't just mean feeling sorry for someone. It's active, covenantal kindness—a love that steps in to relieve suffering, regardless of whether it's deserved.

Jesus ends with a command that should make us all uncomfortable: "Go and do likewise." He doesn't say, "Admire the Samaritan," or "Think about what a great story this is," or "Isn't it nice that someone helped?" He says to do the same thing. Go and show mercy. Go and cross boundaries. Go and serve without asking who deserves it.

6. The Gospel Connection: We Are All the Wounded Traveler

Before we get to application, we need to see ourselves clearly in this story. The most important truth is this: we are all the man beaten and left for dead on the side of the road.

Sin has stripped us of our dignity, wounded us beyond our ability to heal ourselves, and left us spiritually dead. The law (represented by the priest and Levite) cannot save us—it can only show us our need. Religion without relationship, rules without redemption, cannot give us life.

But Jesus—the ultimate Good Samaritan—saw us in our helpless condition and was moved with compassion. He didn't ask if we deserved help. He didn't question whether we were worth the cost. He came to us when we were enemies, not friends. He used His own resources—His very life—to rescue us. He paid our debt in full and promised to return for us.

The inn represents the church, where wounded people are brought to heal. The innkeeper represents pastors and church leaders, entrusted with caring for those Jesus has rescued. And His promise to return and settle all accounts points to the Second Coming, when He will make all things right.

This is the gospel: we were helpless, and Someone crossed every boundary to save us. Now He calls us to go and do likewise.

7. Living It Out Today: Practical Faith in Action

So how do we live this out in 2025? Let me give you some specific, practical ways to put this sermon into action this week.

Daily Practices

Start each morning with this prayer: "God, make me aware of opportunities to serve someone today, especially someone I might normally overlook." End each day by asking: "Who did I notice in need today? How did I respond?"

Breaking Down Our "Other Sides"

We all have people we instinctively avoid. Maybe it's based on politics, economics, race, age, or lifestyle choices. This week, I challenge you to identify one group of people you tend to "cross to the other side" to avoid. Then pray for them. Ask God to give you His heart for them.

The $20 Challenge

Keep a twenty-dollar bill in your wallet or purse this week. Pray that God would show you someone to give it to—not someone safe or familiar, but someone who genuinely needs help. Don't overthink it. When you see the need, act.

Technology and Compassion

In our digital age, it's easy to scroll past human need. This week, when you see a post about someone struggling, don't just hit "like" or leave a prayer emoji. Pick up the phone. Send a text. Show up if you can. Move from digital sympathy to real action.

Family Applications

If you have children, involve them in acts of service that cross cultural or economic boundaries. Take them to serve at a homeless shelter, visit a nursing home, or volunteer with refugees. Let them see what boundary-crossing love looks like in practice.

Church Applications

Look at your church's ministry partnerships. Are we only serving people who look like us, think like us, vote like us? How can we build bridges with communities that might seem foreign or uncomfortable to us?

The "Unlikely Samaritan" Exercise

Think about someone in your life who would be the last person you'd expect help from—maybe someone you disagree with politically, someone from a different background, someone you've had conflict with. Now pray for them. Ask God to help you see them as He sees them. And look for an opportunity to show them kindness.

8. Modern Good Samaritan Stories

Let me share a few quick stories of people living this out today:

Sarah, a suburban mom, drives past the same homeless encampment every day on her way to her kids' private school. One day, instead of looking away, she stopped and talked to Marcus, a veteran struggling with addiction. She didn't give him money—she bought him a phone so he could stay in touch with a job placement program. Six months later, Marcus got clean and found work. Sarah says, "I realized I was so focused on protecting my kids from the world's problems that I was teaching them to ignore people in need."

David is a conservative Christian businessman who hired Ahmed, a Muslim refugee, when no one else would. Despite their religious differences, David mentored Ahmed and helped him start his own business. When Ahmed's daughter needed surgery the family couldn't afford, David organized his church to help pay for it. Ahmed later said, "David showed me what Jesus' love looks like before he ever told me about Jesus."

The congregation at Mount Olive Baptist Church in Atlanta decided to partner with a mosque in their neighborhood after a hate crime targeted the Muslim community. They provided security volunteers during prayer times and helped rebuild vandalized property. Pastor Williams said, "We realized we'd been driving past our neighbors for years without even knowing they were there."

9. The Cost of Boundary-Crossing Love

Let's be honest: living as a Good Samaritan isn't easy. It will cost you.

It will cost you time. Compassion can't be scheduled. It interrupts our plans and messes with our priorities.

It will cost you money. Real love requires real resources. You can't meet material needs with good intentions alone.

It will cost you comfort. Serving people who are different from you means entering unfamiliar spaces and uncomfortable conversations.

It will cost you reputation. When you associate with "the wrong people," others will question your judgment, your values, maybe even your faith.

It will cost you energy. Caring for wounded people is emotionally and physically draining.

But here's what Jesus is showing us: this cost is nothing compared to the cost He paid for us. And this is what authentic faith looks like—not just believing the right things, but loving the right way.

10. The Question That Changes Everything

Jesus ends this parable with a question that should haunt us in the best possible way: "Which of these was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?"

But I want to personalize it for us today. Let me ask you some specific questions:

Who are the "Samaritans" in your world—the people you'd rather avoid, the ones you've been taught to distrust or dislike?

Who are the wounded, half-dead travelers along your daily path—the people in need you encounter regularly but rarely really see?

Are you walking by, distracted by your own concerns and commitments? Or are you allowing yourself to be moved with gut-level compassion that compels you to act?

What boundaries is God calling you to cross this week? What risks is He asking you to take? What comfort zones is He inviting you to leave?

Conclusion: The Mirror of Christ

Jesus doesn't just answer a theological question in this parable—He redefines love and neighbor. He turns expectations upside down. He challenges prejudices and shatters comfortable assumptions. And in doing so, He gives us a concrete image of what living faith looks like.

The Samaritan is more than a model of mercy—he's a mirror of Christ Himself. Jesus is the one who came to us when we were beaten, broken, and left for dead by sin. He lifted us up, paid our debt in full, and promised to return for us.

But here's the beautiful paradox: while we are the wounded traveler in need of rescue, we are also called to be the Good Samaritan for others. We have been saved to serve. We have been loved to love. We have been shown mercy to show mercy.

The inn in this story represents the church—a place where wounded people are brought to heal and be restored. The innkeeper represents all of us who have been entrusted with caring for those Jesus brings to us. And Jesus' promise to return and settle all accounts reminds us that He's coming back to make all things right.

Until He returns, we have work to do. We have neighbors to love. We have boundaries to cross. We have mercy to show.

True faith doesn't just believe in love—it embodies love. It doesn't just talk about compassion—it acts with compassion. It doesn't just know the right answers—it lives the right way.

So as we leave this place today, let's not just admire the Good Samaritan's example. Let's not just appreciate the beauty of the parable. Let's hear Jesus' final words as a personal commission: "Go and do likewise."

Go serve. Go love. Go embody mercy. Go cross boundaries for the sake of others, just as Christ crossed the ultimate boundary for your sake.

That is faith in action. That is the gospel lived out. That is what it means to be a follower of Jesus Christ.

Let us pray:Father, forgive us for the times we've crossed to the other side, avoiding the needs around us. Forgive us for limiting our love to people who are easy to love. Give us eyes to see the wounded travelers along our path. Give us hearts that are moved with compassion. Give us courage to cross boundaries and show mercy, even when it costs us. Help us to love like Jesus loved—sacrificially, unconditionally, radically. In His name we pray, Amen.