The Gospel records an incident where a certain “lawyer” (i.e., νομικός or “Torah sage”) stood up and aggressively challenged (ἐκπειράζων) Yeshua to explain what people must do to inherit eternal life (Luke 10:25-28). Yeshua first responded by asking the man a question of his own: How do you read the Torah? Like most good teachers, Yeshua shifted the question back to the person who was asking it. The way you read (i.e., interpret) is the result of other, more basic, presuppositions you are making.
This Torah scholar was certainly well-studied in Scripture. He did not provide a litany of 613 commandments to perform, nor did he focus on the Ten Commandments. Instead he replied by citing the Ve’ahavta portion of the Shema (“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind”) and added the obligation to “love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev. 19:18). The man’s answer was correct, of course, though it is likely he was simply repeating what Yeshua had been teaching the crowds about the meaning of Torah all along. At any rate there wasn’t a hint of irony in Yeshua’s reply: “You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live” (Luke 10:28).
The problem, however, is that most people — even intensely religious people — don’t actually “do this,” even though they may claim otherwise. After all, truly loving God with all your heart and genuinely loving your neighbor as yourself are surely the most difficult of all the commandments, and indeed, all the other ethical language of Scripture amounts to little else but commentary to this fundamental truth (Matt. 22:40). If people could keep these two commandments, then there would be no need for a Savior. The cross would then be regarded as “foolishness” and the entire mission of Yeshua would be absurd.
Salvation (יְשׁוּעָה) means (negatively) being set free from “the law of sin and death” and (positively) being “reborn” so that we can truly love God and others. It is not a question of “will power” or the “zeal” of man; it is not a question of what I can do but rather what God can do (John 1:13). The assumption that human actions are sufficient to merit eternal life (i.e., through performing loving acts) is therefore part of the problem of sin itself! The “law of sin and death” (תּוֹרַת הַחֵטְא וְהַמָּוֶת) operates on this very principle: As long as you think you can merit eternal life by means of your own efforts, you are relating to God as Judge (אֱלהִים) rather than as Savior (יהוה). You have yet to experience inner brokenness and therefore believe you can “justify yourself.” The cross of Yeshua is the negation of this principle and represents the “end of the law for righteousness to all who believe.”
Yeshua, however, surely knew that people could not save themselves, despite their supposed best efforts. Our Torah sage intellectually knew what God’s requirements were, but he was powerless to live them out in his life. Knowing the truth is not the same thing as living it. A zeal for truth is wonderful if it is lived out in real life, but it is self-deception to “draw near to God with the lips” while having a dead heart (Isa. 29:13). Truly loving God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength is simply impossible for the unregenerated heart. By nature people are “spiritually dead” and self-absorbed. Yeshua knew that it is precisely because we are unable to love that we need Him. He understood that it required his passion and sacrificial death to impart life to those who were spiritually dead.... As it is written: “We love Him because He first loved us” (1 John 4:9).
Unsatisfied with Yeshua’s response, the Torah sage then “wanted to justify himself” (θέλων δικαιῶσαι ἑαυτὸν) by attempting to qualify the definition of “neighbor.” He therefore asked Yeshua, “Who is my neighbor?” (Luke 10:29). Some background to this question might help. Jewish tradition tended to regard the concept of “neighbor” (i.e., rea: רֵעַ) as referring only to one’s fellow Jew, and therefore the obligation to love “others” outside the community did not apply. In response to the man’s question (and addressing his underlying assumption), Yeshua told the story of a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho who “fell among thieves” (Luke 10:30-36). This story illustrates various types of people as they “walk the road” of life and how they respond to the suffering of others.
Soren Kierkegaard comments:
“The first man was a peaceful traveler who walked along the road from Jericho to Jerusalem, along a lawful road. The second man was a robber who "walked along the same road" – and yet on an unlawful road. Then a priest came "along the same road"; he saw the poor unfortunate man who had been assaulted by the robber. Perhaps he was momentarily moved but went right on by. He walked the road of indifference. Next a Levite came "along the same road." He saw the poor unfortunate man; he too walked past unmoved, continuing his road. The Levite walked "along the same road" but was walking his way, the way of selfishness and callousness. Finally a Samaritan came "along the same road." He found the poor unfortunate man on the road of mercy. He showed by example how to walk the road of mercy; he demonstrated that the road, spiritually speaking, is precisely this; how one walks. This is why the Gospel says, "Go and do likewise." Yes, there were five travelers who walked "along the same road," and yet each one walked his own road.”
Yeshua then asked, “Which of these three (i.e., the priest, the Levite, or the Samaritan), do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the thieves?" When the Torah sage answered, “the one who showed mercy,” Yeshua said, “Do this, and you will live.”
Notice again that Yeshua responded to the original question by means of redirection: “How do you read the Scriptures?” “Which of these was a neighbor?” “What do you think?” Like all good teachers, Yeshua was reluctant to simply give a direct answer. No, he expected people to work out the problem for themselves. After all, each of us is responsible for how we choose to “walk” the road of life. We all have desire and passion, but the question is how is that energy directed? What direction does it take down the road of life? Reason is often the slave of our passions. As Yeshua said, “Wisdom is justified by her children.”
Instead of attempting to qualify someone as worthy of our love, Yeshua wants us to be in earnest relationship with the heart of God. That’s what is absolutely essential. And we can only be in a heart relationship with God by means of the miracle of God. Naturally speaking, we are at enmity with God; we are devoid of life and powerless to love and be loved. When by a miracle God reveals his great love for us — personally, deep within our “heart of hearts” — a love for us that is unconditional, grounded in the gift of the Lover of our souls than in the supposed merit we attain to be worthy recipients of God’s love — then, and only then, are we are transformed. Are you offended by the lack of love shown toward you? Then act as a true lover by showing compassion. Go and “do this” (Luke 10:29-37).
Recall that the Torah sage had initially asked: "Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?" and Yeshua pointed to having a heart-relationship with God. "Love God; love your neighbor; do this and you shall live." And yet this is the very problem with us: we cannot love God or our neighbor; indeed, we cannot properly love ourselves. Reciting the Shema and doing good deeds is not enough. We may delight in the Torah yet still be captive to the law of sin and death that binds us to our wretched estate.
Each of us is on the road of life, wounded and left to die. Religion does not help us when the soul is utterly abandoned and powerless to find remedy. We need a savior, someone who will care enough to intervene, who does not pass us by, who will take pity on us. Like the Samaritan in the parable, Yeshua makes bandages for our wounds by rending his own garments; he lifts us up, binds our wounds with the salve of his compassion, and takes us to a place of refuge for our healing. Yeshua is our "Good Samaritan" who rescues the powerless in their distress and delivers them from death.
We are saved by God's love, and we experience that love by faith in God's compassion for our lives. If we are deficient in compassion, it is likely we have not deeply experienced the love of God in our hearts. As John Calvin once wrote: “Faith alone justifies, yet faith is never alone. It is never without love; if love is lacking, neither is there faith...”
Love God; love your neighbor; love yourself... and yet this is impossible apart from divine intervention, that is, apart from the power of life that prevails over the power of death. “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” If the remedy were up to us, if eternal life is attained by loving God with all our being and doing Samaritan-like acts of compassion, there would be no hope for us. “But God demonstrates his own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Yeshua died for us” (Rom. 5:8). Yeshua is our “Good Samaritan” who sees us in our wounded condition and lovingly saves us. He is the healer of the brokenhearted who binds up our wounds…
Psalm 147:3
הָרֹפֵא לִשְׁבוּרֵי לֵב
וּמְחַבֵּשׁ לְעַצְּבוֹתָם
“He heals the brokenhearted
and binds up their wounds.”
Psalm 147:3 Hebrew page (pdf)
"We are powerless to love and *be* loved..." this really is true. The Father is still teaching me how to let Him love me. It is only as the realization and breath of His love penetrates and enlivens me, that I can even *begin* to respond to Him in love. "Not that we loved Him, but that He loved us..."
Thank you for being my Samaritan today...