How can I love my unlovable neighbor?

It is hard for me to love my neighbor. I have neighbors who just yell at me. Some days I am too tired to care. Yet, my Lord calls me to love my neighbor.

A biblical command

Recently we heard a lesson in church from Luke’s gospel (Luke 10:25-37) in which Jesus was approached by an expert in the Mosaic Law. This expert tested Jesus to see whether Jesus would conform to the legalistic morality so dear to the lawyers and Pharisees. You can hear the expert’s law-based worldview in his question: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” It is interesting that he used the word inherit. Was this a gentle indication of his delight in his ethnic ancestry, being a descendent of Abraham, with his eternal life already secured?

Jesus answered with a question: “What is written in the Law?” A great question for a legal scholar. He is ready with an answer: “ ‘Love the Lord your God will all your heart’ . . .; and ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ ” Now it is Jesus’ turn to test the lawyer: “Do this and you will live.”

The lawyer’s response reveals his confidence in himself. Thinking he could establish his own righteousness under the law, he asked, “And who is my neighbor?”

Do not accept this question at face value. The lawyer, clearly, was not seeking lifesaving instruction. He wanted a platform for establishing his superior status in the universe. Since he was seeking to justify himself and his own notion that he had successfully fulfilled the requirements of the law, the question more precisely stated might have been, “Who is worthy to be my neighbor?” The legal expert apparently had no neighbor to love because there was no neighbor worthy of this righteous man’s consideration. The lawyer was his own judge: not guilty.

So Jesus told him the parable of the good Samaritan in which Jesus redefined love and redefined neighbor. The lesson was so clear that when Jesus asked the lawyer who was the injured man’s neighbor, the lawyer had to say, “The one who had mercy on him.” The lawyer could not even bring himself to say, “The Samaritan.”

Time for a new worldview, Mr. Lawyer. “Go and do likewise.” Jesus’ use of God’s law crushed the lawyer’s easily achieved but brittle tradition. Jesus placed it upon this man’s heart and mind to obey God’s commandment to love God by loving his unlovable neighbor. If the lawyer could love the unlovable perfectly, he would survive his next meeting with the holy God.

A modern tale

I was coming home from a visit with the pastors of our sister synods in Central Africa. They had invited me to facilitate a workshop on outreach to Muslims. On the way back home, I had an 11-hour layover in Amsterdam. Across the aisle in the airport coffee shop was a young Muslim woman. Her clothing identified her. It looked like she was doing homework.

As I looked across that aisle, a flood of hatred washed over me. In my time in Central Africa, I had heard how the Muslims were opening schools and offering free education, free uniforms, and free meals. Some Lutheran kids were jumping on that offer. And here I sat, hating the Muslim girl in front of me.

I caught myself in this awful pretense. Good grief. One minute, I am advocating an evangelistic campaign to people caught up in Islam. In the next minute, I am condemning one of those people. Silently, I asked for forgiveness and words. I leaned over and inquired, “That is a pretty scarf. Is it your style, or does it have another meaning?” She looked up and smiled widely. For the next hour, she told me about the scarf and submission to Allah.

After this master class on Islam, I asked, “What will Allah give you when you meet him?” Cheerfully, she said, “Allah will give me my husband, and we will live together forever.” I followed with “Whom you will share with 80 other women?” She put her hand to her chin and said, “I have to ask my mother about that.”

I asked her if I could share what the Bible says about husbands and wives. She was eager to hear. Taking my cue from Ephesians’ fifth chapter, I told her how God called husbands to love their wives as much as and in the same way that Christ loved his church. And that God called wives to respect their husbands in the same way and as much as the church respects Jesus. In this way, Christian husbands and wives could demonstrate the tender, affectionate, loving relationship that God in Christ wants to have with everyone in the world. Husbands and wives can live together in a way that shows the world how Jesus wants to live forever with his bride, the church!

After the apostle Paul’s presentation on how Jesus sacrificed himself in order to present to himself a holy and perfect bride—the church—the young woman said, “That’s beautiful.” Perfect, unconditional, serving love is incredibly beautiful, right? As she headed off to her plane, I asked if I could give her my Bible. She said, “I cannot tell you what would happen to me if my father or brothers found that in my possession.”

What did the Holy Spirit accomplish in that one session of Christian instruction? I do not know. But this is what I do know: My self-righteous, self-justifying hypocrisy almost cost this girl an opportunity to hear how much Jesus loves her.

Our perfect example

As I relive this memory, I am embarrassed all over again. I can imagine how David felt when the prophet Nathan let him have it with, “You are the man.”

Yes, I am that man. Totally guilty. Completely corrupt. Helplessly lost. Just like you and everyone else. It is universal. “There is no one righteous, not even one; there is no one who understands; there is no one who seeks God. All have turned away, [we] have together become worthless” (Romans 3:10-12).

We are Christ’s agents of generous, selfless, unconditional love. Jesus gave us this love to give to those he places on our path.

So who then is unlovable? That is a demographic cohort we all fall into. And whenever I presume to imagine someone being more unlovable than me, I dishonor Jesus and his sacrifice for me. Jesus took on himself my sinful record and my guilt when he allowed sinful men to nail him to a cross. His death was the ransom; his blood was the price that God required to change our status. Jesus was the unloved one on that cross. He then declared our peace with a perfect and holy God. In Christ, we are loved. By his wounds, we are healed. He picked us up and carried us to his Father. He presented us to the Father—by grace through faith—holy, washed clean, radiant, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, and even blameless (Ephesians 5:26,27).

In our travels upon this earth, we are Christ’s agents of generous, selfless, unconditional love. Jesus gave us this love to give to those he places on our path. It turns out that there is no unlovable person out there. In fact, when I see those before me whom the world will not love, I see in them the Jesus who loved me and you to the point of death, even death on a cross.

Lord, open my eyes to see my neighbor. By your love, push me out into this world to find a new neighbor, an under-loved neighbor, whom I can love in your name and with whom I can share your name.

Author: E. Allen Sorum
Volume 112, Number 07
Issue: July 2025