Who is my neighbor?” is an important question for a Jew. Surrounded by enemies—Babylonians, Greeks, and Romans—for centuries, the Jews of Jesus’ day sneered at the Samaritan half-breeds who threw caution to the wind and married foreigners.

“Who is my neighbor?” is an important question for us. Surrounded by nations of needy people—eating mud pies in Haiti, drinking contaminated water in India, and sleeping without mosquito nets in Burundi—we wonder if we should do more for those who are now only a mouse-click away.

Jesus answered our question with a story about the Good Samaritan. Unlike the priest and Levite (Luke 10:31-32), religious types who were too busy, scared, or just plain selfish to help the dying man by the side of the road, the despised Samaritan lost a day’s travel and two days’ wages when he carried a robbery victim to the nearest hotel (vv.34-35).

Jesus finished His story with a question that challenges ours. He reframed the debate, changing our question from “Who is my neighbor?” to “Which of these three would you say was a neighbor?” (v.36). Jesus turned our noun into a verb, saying that it matters less who our neighbor is than that we are neighborly. Our attitude is more important than the number of people we help.

Jesus rejected our question because it was asked for the wrong reason. Much like the Jewish lawyer who asked “Who is my neighbor?” because he “wanted to justify his actions” (Luke 10:29), so we ask it when we want to know how little we can give and still be saved.

Selfish people ask, “Who is my neighbor?” so they can check off the giving box and keep the rest for themselves. Good Samaritans ask, “Who needs my help?” They realize that they cannot save everyone, but they stand ready to serve anyone.