Galatians 3.15-22 + Luke 10.23-37
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
At the beginning of today’s gospel lesson, Jesus tells His disciples privately, “Blessed are the eyes which see the things you see; for I tell you that many prophets and kings have desired to see what you see, and have not seen it, and to hear what you hear, and have not heard it.” Adam and Eve wanted to see and hear what the disciples saw and heard. They looked for the Christ, the Seed whom God promised would crush the head of the serpent, removing sin, guilt, and death. Abraham looked forward to Christ’s day by faith, believing the promise that His Seed would inherit the earth and be a great nation. That Seed, Paul teaches us, is not Abraham’s biological descendants, the Jews. “He does not say, ‘And to seeds,’ as of many, but as of one, “And to your Seed,” who is Christ.” The faithful in every generation since the fall into sin—the true Israel of God—have looked to Christ, the promised Seed, who would bring the forgiveness of sins and everlasting life. The disciples are blessed because they see with their eyes what Abraham wanted to see. They hear with their ears the words Adam and Eve yearned to hear. But they are truly blessed because they see and hear in faith. Many people saw Jesus but did not believe Him to be the Son of God in human flesh. Many people heard His preaching but did not believe it. True blessedness is not merely seeing Jesus with the eye or hearing Him speak. True blessedness to see and hear like children, accepting His Word for what it is: the word of God.
Then a certain lawyer approaches Jesus. The lawyer is well-versed in the law of Moses. He should be among those who look forward to the Christ because, being something of a theologian himself, he knows the promises made to Adam and Eve, Abraham, and the patriarchs. But he has let the wisdom of the world, earthly thinking, and self-conceit distort his understanding of the law. He is proud, coming to Jesus to test Him, not to learn from Him. He asks, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” He is fully sold out to the thinking of the world, thinking that the inheritance is of the law and that it must be earned. I say this is the thinking of the world because so many things are based on merit. We get paid because we did the work. We savor the satisfaction of completing the task because we completed it. God even says, “Every man should eat and drink and enjoy the good of all his labor” (Eccl 3:13), and “If anyone will not work, neither shall he eat” (2 Thess 3:10). We are supposed to work and earn, labor and merit in this life. The lawyer’s problem—other than the fact that He comes to argue, not to learn from Jesus—is that he believes that the way it is “under the sun,” in this life, is how it is “above” before God. For him, eternal life must be earned from God. It must be merited. So, he needs to know precisely what he needs to do to inherit it. His question shows us how deeply he has entrenched himself in the thinking of this world. Inheritances aren’t earned. They’re promised. St. Paul puts it succinctly, “For if the inheritance is of the law, it is no longer of promise; but God gave it to Abraham by promise.”
Since the lawyer has asked a question of the law, “What shall I do?” Jesus responds in kind. “What is written in the law? What is your reading of it?” The lawyer correctly parses the entire law down to two commandments: Love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and love your neighbor as yourself. Jesus tells him, “Do this and you will live.” “Do this and you will inherit eternal life.” It’s simple—so simple, in fact, that I have no doubt the lawyer knew the answer to his question already. His hangup comes in the application. He doesn’t touch loving God with all his heart, soul, strength, and mind. Perhaps, like most people, he assumes he loves God perfectly. Or, perhaps, he realizes just how imperfect his love for God is and doesn’t want to go “there.” The same is true for his neighbor, though. If he is supposed to love his neighbor as he loves himself, he can’t do that, either. Neighbor, after all, is a big word. His neighbor could be anybody that’s near him that needs his help, and he can’t do that all the time. And so, as a good lawyer, he seeks precision in the definition so that he may know exactly who he needs to love as he loves himself and who is exempt from being loved. He doesn’t try to narrow the playing field only because he’s a good lawyer, though. He does it because he wants to justify himself. He wants to prove—to God and himself—that He does the law and therefore inherits eternal life.
“And who is my neighbor?” The parable is the answer. A man falls among thieves. They strip him of his clothing. They wound him. Then they leave him half dead. A priest comes that way but passes by on the other side. He willfully ignores the naked, destitute, half-dead man lying on the side of the road. A Levite does the same. A Samaritan comes that way, and although “Jews have no dealings with Samaritans” (Jn 4:9), this Samaritan has compassion on the naked, destitute, half-dead man lying on the side of the road. He bandages the man’s wounds, pouring on wine to disinfect and oil to protect them. He puts the man on his own animal and walks him to the nearest inn. He gets a room and takes care of the man. The next day when he leaves, he gives the innkeeper two days’ wages and tells him, “Take care of him; whatever more you spend, when I come again, I will repay you.” Then Jesus invites the lawyer to condemn himself and cast off worldly wisdom, human assumptions, and pride. He asks, “So which of these three do you think was a neighbor to him who fell among the thieves?” The lawyer has to answer, “He who showed mercy on him,” to which Jesus tells him, “Go and do likewise.” The expert in the law missed the entire point of the law. He was so focused on the identity of his neighbor that he missed the point of the law: Be a neighbor. Love others as you love yourself. And who should you be a neighbor to? Whoever God puts in your path.
The parable teaches the lawyer about the nature of the law. Love God above all things at all times with all you’ve got and all you are. Love your neighbor—be a neighbor—to everyone God puts in your path. That still won’t earn you eternal life, though. You can’t get there from the law, because the law, as Paul says, “was added because of transgressions, till the Seed should come to whom the promise was made.” The law shows us just how far short we fall of eternal life. We don’t love God with our whole heart, soul, strength, and mind at all times. We certainly don’t love our neighbors as we love ourselves. More often than not, we try to justify ourselves like the lawyer, trying to move the law’s goalposts so that we can think we’re doing good and inheriting eternal life. But to use the law to justify ourselves is to misuse it.“ But the Scripture,” the law, “has confined all under sin, that the promise by faith in Jesus Christ might be given to those who believe.” The parable teaches us how to love our neighbor, but first it teaches us that we need a neighbor. The parable shows us that we are the man who fell among thieves. The devil attacked our first parents, stripped them of the righteousness and true knowledge of God which God gave them, and this is true for all their descendants. The law, like its representatives in the parable, the priest and the Levite, can only pass by on the other side of the road. The law offers no help to sinners because sinners do not and cannot fulfill the law.
But the parable not only teaches us the nature of the law. It answers the question, “And who is my neighbor?” The lawyer’s neighbor—our neighbor—the one who has compassion on those whom the devil, sin, and the law have left for the dead is Jesus. He comes down from heaven and takes on flesh in the womb of the Virgin Mary so that He might have compassion on us. He bandages the wounds of sin. He pours the stinging wine of contrition on wounds. He applies the oil of gladness—the gospel—on them so that they might be healed. He forgives not only the wounds that we receive from Adam and Eve; He even bandages the wounds that we so often inflict upon ourselves. He puts on His animal and takes us to the nearest inn, which is the Church. In the church, He cares for us Himself and nurses us to spiritual health Himself. And although He ascended into heaven, He provides for our ongoing forgiveness and strengthens us in the new life by setting innkeepers over us to take care of our souls with Christ’s word and sacraments. Those who faithfully care for Christ’s neighbors, He will repay when He returns in glory. We inherit eternal life because we are under the care of the Good Samaritan. We inherit eternal life because, by baptism and faith in the Promised Seed, we become children of God and heirs of an everlasting inheritance with the saints in light. We inherit eternal life because our neighbor, Jesus Christ, loved us as He loved Himself and, in love, sacrificed Himself for our sins to richly and daily forgive our sins, apply the salve of His gospel to us, and strengthen us to walk each day in the newness of life.
Forgiven, healed, and clothed by Christ, we then begin to do the law, which says, Love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and love your neighbor as yourself. We begin to do the law, not to inherit eternal life, but because God has promised to give us eternal life already. We begin to do the law, not to justify ourselves but because we are justified by faith in Christ. We begin to love God, and our love for Him grows as we contemplate the great compassion of the one who is neighbor to the one who fell among the thieves, the One who is neighbor to sinners. We begin to love our neighbor as ourselves, as well, not asking who our neighbor is, but to whom can we be a neighbor? Who has God placed in our path to have compassion on, to help, to bind up, and to care for? This, too, is not to inherit eternal life, but because our Neighbor has come to our need, bandages our wounds, cares for us daily in His holy Church, and makes us heirs of eternal life. And blessed are you, for many prophets and kings have desired to see what you see, and have not seen it, and to hear what you hear, and have not heard it.” They looked forward to Christ in faith, but you have seen and heard Him plainly in the gospel, and you experience His compassion and know Him as your neighbor and Good Samaritan each day as He bandages your wounds, cares for you in His church, and strengthens you to walk again in the newness of life. Amen.
May the peace of God which surpasses all understanding guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.
