The Good Samaritan is one of the most famous stories ever told, and one of the most pointed. A lawyer stood up to test Jesus: "Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus asked what was written in the Law. The lawyer answered correctly: love God with everything, and love your neighbor as yourself. Jesus said, "Do this and you will live." But the lawyer, "wanting to justify himself, said to Jesus, 'And who is my neighbor?'" (Luke 10:29). That question is the whole setup. The lawyer wants a narrow definition — so he can draw a circle small enough to include the people he already loves and exclude the people he already despises. Jesus told the story: a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho fell among robbers. A priest passed by on the other side. A Levite passed by on the other side. Then a Samaritan — a member of the despised half-breed religious rivals of the Jews — came along, saw the man, had compassion, bound his wounds, carried him on his own animal to an inn, paid for his care, and promised to cover any additional costs. At the end Jesus turned the question around: "Which of these three do you think was neighbor to him who fell among the thieves?" The lawyer could not even say the word "Samaritan"; he answered, "He who showed mercy on him." Jesus said, "Go and do likewise." The parable refuses the lawyer's question. The real question is not "who is my neighbor?" (which limits) but "to whom can I be a neighbor?" (which has no limit). Every human being in need, met on your road, is the neighbor the law commands you to love. The priest and Levite had theology; the Samaritan had mercy. God wants both — but He will take mercy without theology over theology without mercy any day.