How Love Works
Notes
Transcript
Handout
Luke 10:25-37
On a cold March night in 1964, a young woman named Kitty Genovese was attacked outside her apartment building in New York City.
She cried out again and again for help.
Lights flicked on.
Windows slid open.
At least thirty-eight neighbors heard her screams.
But no one came.
Some pulled the curtains shut.
Some turned the volume up on their televisions.
Some even admitted later that they assumed “someone else” would step in.
By the time help finally arrived, it was too late.
That story shocked the nation and became known as the “bystander effect”—the tragic reality that people can see a desperate need, but because of fear, indifference, or inconvenience, they do nothing.
And while we may shake our heads at those neighbors in New York, the truth is that the same spirit can live in our own hearts.
How many times have we seen someone hurting—at work, at school, in our community, even in our church—and we pass by on the other side?
It is not that we don’t know what love looks like.
It is that we often don’t want to pay the price to show it.
Jesus confronted that same attitude two thousand years ago.
A lawyer, full of self-righteousness, asked Him, “Who is my neighbor?”
And in response, Jesus told a story that still pierces every excuse, every prejudice, and every barrier we put up.
The parable of the Good Samaritan is not just a moral lesson—it is a spiritual mirror.
It reveals the kind of mercy that God expects from those who follow His steps.
And it ultimately points us to the mercy that Christ Himself has shown to us.
As we look at this passage, Jesus will show us three things: the emptiness of a misguided religion, the example of a merciful response, and the mandate of a genuine responsibility.
The question is not “Who is my neighbor?”
The real question is: Am I willing to be a neighbor?
Let’s begin where the story begins—with a lawyer’s question that exposes the poverty of a religion without compassion.
I. The Lawyer’s Question – A Misguided Religion
I. The Lawyer’s Question – A Misguided Religion
Luke 10:25–29
Before Jesus ever told the parable of the Good Samaritan, the conversation began with a question.
It wasn’t an honest question from a hungry heart—it was a loaded question from a proud heart.
The man who asked it was not seeking to be taught; he was trying to test the Teacher.
And in that single moment we are reminded that misguided religion often starts with the wrong spirit.
A. A Testing Spirit
A. A Testing Spirit
Verse 25 tells us, “And, behold, a certain lawyer stood up, and tempted him, saying, Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?”
He wasn’t sincerely seeking salvation.
He was trying to test Christ, to catch Him in His words.
The word “tempted” reveals his motive—he wanted to debate, not to discover truth.
He wanted to show off his knowledge, not humble himself before the Savior.
Many people today approach religion in the same way.
They come with questions, but not with open hearts.
They want to appear spiritual, but they are not truly searching for God.
A critical spirit will always hinder spiritual growth.
If we come to God’s Word looking to argue or to justify ourselves, we will never hear what God is really saying to us.
B. A Twisted Standard
B. A Twisted Standard
Luke 10:26–27
Jesus answered the lawyer’s question with a question: “What is written in the law? how readest thou?”
In other words, Jesus pointed him back to Scripture.
The lawyer quoted correctly: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbour as thyself.”
This was the right answer.
He knew the standard of God’s Law.
But knowing the truth and living the truth are two very different things.
It was a twisted standard.
James 1:22 reminds us,
22 But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves.
Quote: Charles Spurgeon said, “A Bible that is falling apart usually belongs to someone who isn’t.”
Yet, a Bible well-known but not obeyed is just as dangerous.
It is possible to have Bible verses memorized, sermons outlined, and doctrine understood, and yet miss the heart of obedience.
It is not enough to know the Bible—we must live it.
Knowledge without action is hypocrisy.
Religion without love is empty ritual.
C. A Trapped Self
C. A Trapped Self
Verse 29 reveals the real issue: “But he, willing to justify himself, said unto Jesus, And who is my neighbour?”
The lawyer felt convicted,a nd wanted to excuse himself by limiting the scope of God’s command.
He wanted to narrow down who counted as his neighbor so he could feel righteous while excusing his lack of love.
Self-righteousness always seeks to lower God’s standard so man can measure up.
Romans 10:3 says of Israel,
3 For they being ignorant of God’s righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God.
That is exactly what this man was doing.
He was not truly loving God, nor truly loving people, but he wanted to appear justified.
When we try to excuse our lack of love, we reveal the poverty of our faith.
True love doesn’t ask, “How little can I get by with?” but “How much can I give?”
Sometimes I’ll announce to my younger kids that it’s chore time and soon I realize they have disappeared, but I don’t see any of the chores being.
I’ll call for them and ask them what they are doing.
Many times I’ll get “I’m cleaning my room.” - when really I know that means I am playing with stuff in my room.
Or they are finding something to keep themselves busy to bide time until dinner.
It’s natural part of immaturity to try to get away with the least…but as we grow we are taught the value of a job well done, and a life that pleases God.
When our hearts look for loopholes, we are missing the life of mercy that Christ calls us to live.
The lawyer’s question revealed a misguided religion—one that knew the right words but not the right heart.
To answer him, Jesus told a story—not just to define “neighbor,” but to show what true mercy looks like in action.
II. The Lord’s Story – A Model Response
II. The Lord’s Story – A Model Response
30 And Jesus answering said, A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead.
31 And by chance there came down a certain priest that way: and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side.
32 And likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and looked on him, and passed by on the other side.
33 But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him,
34 And went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him.
35 And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave them to the host, and said unto him, Take care of him; and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee.
To answer the lawyer’s attempt to justify himself, Jesus didn’t give him a definition of a neighbor.
He gave him a description.
Rather than offer an abstract answer, Christ told a story—a story that cuts through excuses and shows us exactly what mercy looks like.
A. A Tragedy Encountered
A. A Tragedy Encountered
Jesus said a man was traveling from Jerusalem down to Jericho when thieves attacked him.
They stripped him, wounded him, and left him half dead.
This road was known as “the Bloody Way,” a dangerous stretch where robbers often struck.
The man’s condition is a vivid picture of humanity—broken, battered, and without hope.
In describing the moral condition of man, Isaiah 1:6 describes us as “wounds, and bruises, and putrifying sores.”
He says,
6 From the sole of the foot even unto the head there is no soundness in it; But wounds, and bruises, and putrifying sores: They have not been closed, neither bound up, neither mollified with ointment.
It’s pretty graphic, but Spiritually, this is who we all are apart from Christ—helpless, bleeding, and unable to save ourselves.
Matthew Henry commented that “Sin is the thief that wounds and strips us, and leaves us half dead.”
When you think of that beaten man, think of the coworker who masks his pain with laughter, the neighbor overwhelmed with burdens, or the family member crushed by sin’s weight.
If we follow Christ, we cannot ignore the fact that all around us are people who are hurting and in need of mercy.
B. A Timid Escape
B. A Timid Escape
Luke 10:31–32
As Jesus continued, He said a priest came by and saw the man, but passed by on the other side.
Then a Levite came, looked at him, and also passed by.
Two religious men.
Two men who knew the Law.
Two men who should have reflected the compassion of God—but instead chose distance.
1 John 3:17 warns us:
17 But whoso hath this world’s good, and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of God in him?
James 2:15–16 adds…
15 If a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of daily food,
16 And one of you say unto them, Depart in peace, be ye warmed and filled; notwithstanding ye give them not those things which are needful to the body; what doth it profit?
It does not good to just acknowledge a hurt without doing something to help them.
D.L. Moody once said, “The world does not understand theology or dogma, but it understands love and sympathy.”
In other words, people may not grasp our sermons or our creeds, but they can see whether or not we care.
The priest and Levite remind us that it is possible to be outwardly religious, but inwardly cold.
It’s like a neighbor who sees smoke pouring from your house but keeps walking, saying, “Well, I hope somebody calls the fire department.”
Following Christ means refusing to live with a bystander mentality.
If we are content to simply pass by, we are not walking in His steps.
But then Jesus gives us…
C. A Tender Example
C. A Tender Example
Luke 10:33–35
He brought in the surprise of the story.
A Samaritan—someone despised by the Jews—was the one who stopped.
When he saw the man, he had compassion.
He drew near, bound up the wounds, poured in oil and wine, put the man on his own animal, and paid for his care.
Everything about this is costly.
He gave his time, his energy, his money, and even his own comfort to show mercy.
This is what Christlikeness looks like.
Philippians 2:5–7 tells us to
5 Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus:
6 Who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God:
7 But made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men:
To follow His steps is to do what Christ did.
He gave up everything for us.
2 Corinthians 8:9 reminds us,
9 For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be rich.
In fact, many early Christians saw the Samaritan as a picture of Jesus Himself.
Augustine wrote, “The Samaritan is Christ Himself, who came to heal the wounded.”
Just as the Samaritan crossed boundaries to save a dying man, Jesus crossed heaven itself to save us.
Amy Carmichael, the missionary to India, rescued children from temple slavery.
It cost her reputation, her health, and her life’s energy, but she said, “You can give without loving, but you cannot love without giving.”
True mercy always costs us something.
The call of this passage is simple but profound—if we claim to follow Christ, we must be willing to enter into people’s mess, bear their burdens, and pay the price to show them love.
The parable paints three portraits: the beaten man, the religious bystanders, and the compassionate Samaritan.
The question now is not simply “Who is my neighbor?” but “Am I willing to be one?”
III. The Lord’s Command – A Mandated Responsibility
III. The Lord’s Command – A Mandated Responsibility
36 Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves?
37 And he said, He that shewed mercy on him. Then said Jesus unto him, Go, and do thou likewise.
Jesus had finished the story, but He wasn’t done teaching.
He turned back to the lawyer and pressed the point home with a question that flipped everything around.
The lawyer asked, “Who is my neighbor?” hoping to limit his responsibility.
But Jesus asked, “Which of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves?”
In other words, the issue is not defining our neighbor—it is demonstrating neighborliness.
A. The Clarifying Question
A. The Clarifying Question
“Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves?”
Jesus reframed the entire debate.
The lawyer wanted to know the limits of love, but Jesus asked who had shown love.
The focus is no longer on “Who qualifies to be loved?” but “Am I willing to love?”
Galatians 5:13 says,
13 For, brethren, ye have been called unto liberty; only use not liberty for an occasion to the flesh, but by love serve one another.
Love is not about drawing lines but crossing them to serve.
If there is a man on the beach that sees someone in trouble in the water, and he has the ability to help them.
The question is not, “Is that swimmer my responsibility?” but “If I don’t move now, will they drown?”
Christ’s clarifying question calls us to stop measuring love by what is convenient and start measuring it by what is needed.
B. The Convicting Conclusion
B. The Convicting Conclusion
The lawyer could not even bring himself to say “the Samaritan.” He simply said, “He that shewed mercy on him.”
Even in his prejudice, he had to admit the truth: the one who acted in mercy was the true neighbor.
And then Jesus gave the command: “Go, and do thou likewise.”
Faith that is real must become faith that is lived.
Micah 6:8 summed it up beautifully for us!
8 He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; And what doth the Lord require of thee, But to do justly, and to love mercy, And to walk humbly with thy God?
John Wesley once said, “Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.”
William Booth, founder of the Salvation Army, once sent a one-word telegram to his workers around the world.
That word was “Others.”
That single word summed up the Christian responsibility.
The command “Go and do likewise” is not just a suggestion for the unusually compassionate.
It is the call for every believer who claims to follow in the steps of Christ.
Jesus’ parable began with a lawyer who wanted to justify himself, but it ends with a command that strips away all excuses.
The call of this passage is not to debate who qualifies as our neighbor—it is to become one.
And the ultimate neighbor is Jesus Himself, who came where we were, had compassion, and bore the cost of our healing.
The measure of our mercy is found in how well we reflect His.
Conclusion
Conclusion
When we began tonight, we remembered the tragic story of Kitty Genovese.
Dozens of neighbors heard her cries for help, but they did nothing.
They turned up the volume on their televisions, pulled the curtains shut, and waited for someone else to step in.
That “bystander effect” still plagues our world today.
Now even worse, they pull out their phones and record what is happening.
But Jesus calls His followers to reject the bystander spirit.
In this parable, we’ve seen ourselves in the lawyer—looking for excuses.
We’ve seen ourselves in the priest and the Levite—choosing distance.
But Jesus calls us to see ourselves in the Samaritan—moved with compassion, stepping into the mess, and paying the cost to show mercy.
Just William Booth said in that single word telegram—“Others.”
That is the essence of discipleship: living not for self, but for others, in the name of Christ.
Lord, help me live from day to day
In such a self-forgetful way
That even when I kneel to pray
My prayer shall be for—Others.
Help me in all the work I do
To ever be sincere and true
And know that all I’d do for You
Must needs be done for—Others.
Others, Lord, yes others,
Let this my motto be,
Help me to live for others,
That I may live like Thee.
This story ultimately points us beyond the Samaritan to Jesus Himself.
We were the ones lying on the road, broken and helpless, unable to save ourselves.
Religion passed by.
Good works passed by.
But Christ came to us.
He bound up our wounds with His grace, poured in the oil and wine of His Spirit, carried us on His shoulders, and paid the full price for our healing with His blood at Calvary.
He is the true Good Samaritan.
The question tonight is not, “Who is my neighbor?”
The question is, “Am I willing to be one?”
Jesus’ command is simple and clear: “Go, and do thou likewise.”
If we want to follow His steps, we cannot be content to stand by.
We must walk in mercy.
We must live for others.
And in doing so, we show the world the heart of Christ.
