Luke 10
The latter half of chapter 10 describes an interchange between Jesus and an expert in the law, where Jesus tells the story of the man known as “the good Samaritan”. One particular phrase stood out as I read the story today. After the expert answers his own question with “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and all your soul and all your strength, and love your neighbor as yourself”, Luke records that “he wanted to justify himself…”
This is a feeling I know all too well: I walk into a professor’s office, confused and stuck on a homework problem. I start to explain the difficulty, and the steps I’ve worked out so far. “Yes,” the professor replies, “you’re on the right track. That’s exactly right. Just keep going.” I hesitate. Is that it? Is there a trick I should know for later? Is the rest of the problem that easy? Is there even a semi-intelligent question I can ask to save face?
I’m afraid that if I had the opportunity to talk with Jesus the way this expert in the law did, I would talk in the same way the expert in the law did.
“See, Jesus, I’ve got this terrible dilemma, this complex theological question, the ultimate existential question of my life.”
“What do you think?”
“Uh, well, …” Bits of scripture come to mind, and I begin to haltingly form an answer.
“Yep, that’s it. Are you going to do it?”
Suddenly, the parable is no longer merely an answer to the question, “Who is my neighbor?” It becomes a tale describing the futility of knowledge decoupled from action. All three of the men were neighbors; only one obeyed the law. Jesus sidesteps the technicalities and points directly to the question at hand: Are you obeying?
I can ask the right questions. I can know the right answers. The expert in the law certainly did. But until it changes my heart, until I change my actions - it remains nothing more than an academic exercise. Quite frankly, part of me would prefer that it remain an academic exercise, but I don’t get to choose. Only obedience leads to life.
