Picture a lawyer — sharp, well-trained, an expert in the Torah — approaching Jesus with what he thinks is a test question. "Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?"

He probably expected Jesus to wade into the theological debates of the day, maybe pick a side in some ongoing rabbinic argument. What he got instead was Jesus reaching straight into the lawyer's own Bible and pulling out a verse from Leviticus.

Leviticus. The book of priestly codes, purity laws, and detailed instructions for grain offerings. Not exactly where you'd go looking for the heart of the gospel.

But there it is, tucked into chapter 19 between commands about paying workers fairly and not cursing the deaf: "You shall love your neighbor as yourself."

In its original context, that command had a specific audience in view. The verse itself makes this clear — "any of your people." Leviticus 19:18 is addressed to the community of Israel, about how they treat each other. It's a profound command, but it has a fence around it. Leviticus even circles back, just sixteen verses later, to say that same love should extend to the outsider and the stranger — which tells you something. You don't need to add that verse unless the original one had limits.

So the fence was real. And people are remarkably creative when it comes to finding the edges of a command they'd rather not keep.

In Matthew 22, when Jesus calls this the second greatest commandment — alongside loving God — he's already signaling that something larger is at stake. But it's in Luke 10 where the full weight lands. A legal expert asks Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life. Jesus turns it back on him — what does the law say? The man quotes Leviticus 19:18 correctly. Good. But then comes the hedge: "And who is my neighbor?"

That wasn't an innocent clarifying question. It was a search for the boundary line. Define neighbor precisely enough, and you can also define who doesn't qualify.

Jesus answered with the parable of the Good Samaritan, where the hero is the last person his Jewish audience would have expected. He didn't just move the fence — he removed it entirely. You don't get to ask who counts as a neighbor. You ask instead: to whom can I be a neighbor?

That's what makes this so quietly astonishing. The most radical love ethic in the New Testament wasn't new. It had been sitting in Leviticus for over a thousand years, waiting for someone to finally mean it without looking for the exit.

And now it lands on us. The difficult neighbor. The different one. The one we'd rather not count.

The command was always clear. The question was always whether we'd let it be.

Father, thank you for a love command that refuses to stay inside the lines we draw. Give us the courage to stop asking who qualifies and start asking how we can serve. Amen.

This devotional was written and read by Cliff McCartney.

Grace for All is a daily devotional podcast produced by the members of the congregation of First United Methodist Church in Maryville, Tennessee. With these devotionals, we want to remind listeners on a daily basis of the love and grace that God extends to all human beings, no matter their location, status, or condition in life.

If you would like to respond to these devotionals in any way, we would enjoy hearing from you. Our email address is: podcasts@1stchurch.org.

First United Methodist Church is a lively, spirit-filled congregation whose goal is to spread the message of love and grace into our community and throughout the world. We are located on the web at https://1stchurch.org/.