Good morning, everybody. It’s good to be with you this morning. My name is Carlos, and I’m the senior pastor here at Gateway Church. We have a lot of people who watch online live and who watch later in the week. So if you’re in the room, help me welcome everybody who is watching live online—we are so glad that you’re with us, along with hundreds of people watching later on during the week.

Have you ever found yourself liking something that annoyed everybody else? When I was a kid, I loved commercials. There was just something about them. I was reflecting on why I liked them so much, and I think it was because I grew up in a Hispanic home where we spoke only Spanish. Television was where I was learning English and understanding American culture. One of my favorite commercials from the ’80s was Wendy’s “Where’s the beef?”

There are people whose full-time jobs are simply writing commercial jingles designed to stick in your memory for the rest of your life. When I was dating my wife, Libby, I introduced her to my mentor at the time, Gary Grogan. He was from Illinois, and the moment he met Libby, he sang: “Libby, Libby, Libby on the label!” I had no idea what was happening, but Libby laughed and explained that it was a Midwest commercial. Certain words simply conjure an automatic response.

I want to test you on a commercial today because we’re talking about being a good neighbor—living on mission in the kingdom of God. Finish this jingle with me: “Like a good neighbor…”

State Farm is there. You nailed it. But when we open Scripture, what does it mean to be a good neighbor? What does it mean for those of us who follow Jesus, or for those who are exploring faith and trying to figure out what they believe?

Turn with me to Luke chapter 10. If you have your Bibles, go ahead and take them out, or use your phone. The verses will be on the screens as well. We’ll start in verse 25.

To give some context: Jesus frequently found Himself in situations where religious leaders wanted to put Him in His place. In His earthly ministry, Jesus didn’t come to abolish the law; He came to fulfill it. But the way Jesus fulfilled the law was not the way the religious leaders expected. He didn’t rely on their catchphrases, He didn’t always dress the way they expected, and He spent time with people they would never associate with. He lived according to the law without conforming to the surrounding culture.

As believers, we do not have to adopt the divisive language given to us by the world. People often rely on catchphrases to build culture, and in seasons of political tension, hatred, and violence, those phrases conjure intense emotional reactions. Yet we can communicate truth clearly without adopting toxic cultural undertones. Jesus spent His entire ministry navigating this tension—living fully according to God’s law while refusing to conform to the culture.

In Luke 10, an expert in the law attempts to trap Jesus with a gotcha question:

On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

“What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?”

He answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.'”

“You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”

But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” (Luke 10:25–29)

Jesus answers with a story:

“A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side.

But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’

Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”

The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”

Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.” (Luke 10:30–37)

Notice the characters. The priest and the Levite were religious leaders who followed the law and understood right from wrong. They were not bad people, yet when confronted with a person in desperate need, they passed by on the other side. They knew the law, but they didn’t know how to step outside expected social norms to show love.

Then comes the Samaritan. Samaritans were a marginalized group with whom Jewish people did not associate. Yet this marginalized outsider is the one who stops, feels deep pity, bandages the man’s wounds, places him on his animal, checks him into an inn, and pays for his ongoing care out of pocket. The religious insiders didn’t know what to do, while the outsider knew exactly what to do and gave everything.

In our world today, it has become increasingly difficult to talk about citizenship and neighborliness without conversations immediately turning political. Before our services, our creative team asked me about the black-and-white intro video we use, asking if it might stir up uncomfortable feelings about violence in the world. I told them we needed to run it because that reflects the reality of where people actually live. We see physical violence, relational violence, and the violence of words. We debate tax brackets, political leaders, and social policies, and we often find ourselves alienated from people who view things differently.

You may have a sibling, a parent, or friends from whom you’ve grown distant over voting patterns and political opinions. Yet beneath all these debates lies a fundamental question: What does it actually mean to be a good citizen?

Most of us agree on the civic basics: pay your taxes, obey the laws, and participate in your community by voting. In our state, millions abdicate the right to vote simply because they don’t feel like it, yet civic engagement is part of caring for the well-being of our community. We follow the laws of the land—even if driving on Texas highways makes people wonder if speed limits are merely suggestions!

Beyond civic duty, however, Scripture reveals a deeper dimension of citizenship for those who follow Jesus. Philippians 3:20 declares: “Our citizenship is in heaven.” Our deepest identity and ultimate allegiance do not belong to an earthly nation. Our heavenly citizenship must shape how we live as earthly residents. If we truly recognize that our citizenship is in the Kingdom of God, our communities, our workplaces, and our friendships should be visibly better because we are in them.

What does it look like to be a good neighbor?

1. A Good Neighbor Sees People Beyond Their Differences

The legal expert knew the right theological formula: love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself. He had the right words, but the wrong posture. To justify himself, he asked, “Who is my neighbor?” The questions we ask often reveal what is truly happening inside our hearts.

The priest and the Levite were educated in the law, but knowing what is right is very different from embodying the spirit of the law. Jesus highlights the Samaritan because the real question isn’t “Who is my neighbor?”—it’s “Will I become a neighbor to the person who needs me?”

That question applies directly to our daily lives. How do we care for the people around us? In an HOA meeting, do we vote against a speed bump simply because we find it annoying, or do we support it because it protects the neighborhood children? What is best for the broader community may not always be what is most convenient for us personally.

When Scripture commands us to love God with all our heart, soul, strength, and mind, it challenges us to surrender every part of our lives. When was the last time you gave your whole heart to anything—raising your children, investing in your marriage, or showing up faithfully in your work? In a cynical world, we tend to withhold our energy because we fear getting hurt. Yet God calls us to love Him with everything: our time, our finances, and our resources. When we surrender our “all” to God, He directs those very resources toward loving others.

In Jeremiah 29, the Israelites found themselves exiled in Babylon—displaced, mourning, and stuck in a culture they didn’t choose. Many people in our church know what it’s like to move to a new place from California, New York, or across the country and miss home. But look at what God instructed the exiles through Jeremiah:

“Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease. Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.” (Jeremiah 29:5–7)

God told them: don’t disengage, don’t retreat, and don’t spend your days cursing your environment. Settle down, invest, grow, and pray for the prosperity and peace of the city where you reside.

The world tells us to protect our own interests and cut off anyone who disagrees with us. That mindset produces isolation, and isolation is the exact opposite of God’s design for human life. Our culture celebrates modern self-sufficiency—ordering food to your doorstep, working remotely, and never speaking to a neighbor. That feels comfortable until life falls apart and you have no one to walk with you through the pain.

Years ago, while pastoring in Seattle, a woman called our church office furiously upset with me because nobody had visited her in the hospital. I listened and asked gently, “Are you in a small group? Do you have friends at church?” She said no. I asked, “Did you let anyone know you were in the hospital?” She answered no. When I asked how we could have known, she replied, “You should just know.”

My heart broke because her response reflected a widespread reality. People isolate themselves, withdraw from community, and then wonder why they feel forgotten when hardship strikes. Isolation gives the enemy room to breed bitterness and blame. In the Kingdom of God, we are called out of isolation into genuine community.

2. A Good Neighbor Turns Compassion into Action

A few weeks ago, our church highlighted our local food pantry partnership, and everyone celebrated the vision. But clapping for an initiative doesn’t put food into a child’s backpack. What feeds families is hundreds of individuals physically buying groceries, bringing them in, and putting hands and feet to their compassion.

Liking or sharing a social media post about global hunger, immigration, or community needs might make us feel good, but digital applause does not heal broken lives. When was the last time you shared a meal with an immigrant? When was the last time you sat with someone who walked through an abortion and simply wrapped them in love?

Beliefs and emotions mean little if they are not clothed in the tangible compassion of Christ. When we stand before our Heavenly Father, we aren’t going to read off a resume of voting records from past election cycles. God’s concern is whether we treated people with dignity, loved the poll worker, showed kindness in line, and loved our actual neighbors.

We cannot substitute political engagement for personal discipleship. We should think carefully, pray faithfully, participate responsibly, and vote our conscience. But political activity will never replace the daily call to follow Jesus and love those in need. Who is sitting in the margins of your life right now?

3. A Good Neighbor Reflects the Love of Jesus

We cannot genuinely reflect Jesus unless we are actively learning to become like Him. Many of us try hard to be good people in our own strength, but our natural energy, patience, and resources eventually run dry. When our personal reserves run out, only the Holy Spirit can sustain Christlike love within us.

Left to our own nature, we carry brokenness, defensiveness, and pride. When we yield to Christ, He gives us a new nature and invites us into the ministry of reconciliation. Reconciliation doesn’t mean pretending differences don’t exist; it means choosing connection over hostility.

• We can hold convictions without treating people as enemies.

• We can pursue justice without abandoning mercy.

• We can speak truth without surrendering love.

Loving someone does not mean you endorse everything they believe or do. Loving someone simply acknowledges that they are a human being created in the image of God. While we must walk in wisdom and healthy boundaries, we are never excused from walking in love.

At the end of the parable, Jesus asked the legal expert which traveler proved to be a neighbor. The expert couldn’t even bring himself to utter the word “Samaritan”—he simply replied, “The one who had mercy on him.” And Jesus looked at him and said, “Go and do likewise.” Jesus called him to emulate the very person he despised.

Living It Out

1. Remember who you are: Your primary allegiance and citizenship belong to the Kingdom of God.

2. Look for the overlooked: Ask God to give you eyes to see people through His lens rather than cultural labels.

3. Turn compassion into action: Make a phone call, invite someone for a meal, volunteer, give generously, and speak up for someone who has no voice.

4. Be an ambassador of reconciliation: Represent Christ’s healing and humility in a fractured world.

Take a moment, close your eyes, and ask yourself: Who is currently in the margins of your life? Is there a person, a background, a political perspective, or a group you instinctively avoid?

Be honest before God. Ask Him to replace prejudice or indifference with genuine compassion, and commit to being an instrument of His love this week.