But wishing to justify himself, he said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” ~Luke 10:29
Seventy people sat, listening to Jesus. We assume they were men – two thousand years ago women didn’t hold much authority within society, so as evangelism began, it would make sense to send out those who could most easily reach the culture. That, and the Bible generally mentions women when they were involved.
So, seventy men. Some of them may have been joined with their wives at this point, so there may have been more than seventy. Those men, being first covered in prayer, had been sent out by Jesus to heal and to teach. They were told to shake the dust off their feet when people refused to listen. They returned and debriefed with Jesus after their adventure. They marveled at the things they had been able to do in Jesus’ name.
“Nevertheless, do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are recorded in heaven (Luke 10:20).”
As Jesus wrapped up His teaching, someone stood up. A lawyer. He wanted to test Jesus: “What must I to do inherit eternal life?” It’s a simple enough question and Jesus gives a simple answer: love God and love your neighbor.
I can’t fault just the lawyers among us. We’re all experts at something. As a student at a highly rigorous seminary, there is a constant battle against arrogance. I saw it back in college as well – when people become highly skilled at something, human nature is to become a know-it-all rather than a teacher. It becomes easy to hold that knowledge above others rather than seeing that knowledge as a gift and teaching it to others.
That’s the trap this lawyer had fallen into. We have no business testing God. This man sat among the seventy who had just seen miracles in Jesus’ power, but instead of marveling at Him, this lawyer couldn’t handle someone else being better than him. He wanted to justify himself.
Jesus’ answer of loving God and others didn’t satisfy this lawyer. He asked, “Who is my neighbor?”
This launches into the story of the Good Samaritan. Every time I read this, I can’t help but think of the VeggieTales version that ends up with Larry the Cucumber stuck upside down in a hole between the two cities, with pots and shoes being thrown at each other.
To summarize that story, a man was walking along a dangerous road. The Bible gives the location, but for us two thousand years later and half a world away, picture the most dangerous neighborhood in your city: guns fights, theft everywhere, women don’t walk alone, that kind of neighborhood. That was the only path between Jerusalem and Jericho at the time. So a man was traveling between those two cities, came across some robbers, and was stripped, beaten, and left for dead. Both a priest and a Levite (the tribe the Hebrew priests came from) passed by. It was a Samaritan who stopped to help this man.
The Samaritans were hated and it wouldn’t have made sense to this lawyer why a Samaritan would be the one to stop. But Jesus made His point.
When Jesus asked the lawyer who was this man’s neighbor, the lawyer answers “The one who showed mercy toward him.” The lawyer didn’t speak with an intent to “test” or “justify” anything; he simply “said” his answer.
What if that were our approach to conversations? I’m thinking of all the arguments on social media right now. What if, instead of trying to justify every little detail, what if we leave the emotions out, save those for real-life conversations, and just say our answers? If what you’re about to say online isn’t something you’d ever say in real life, then don’t say it. And in real life, take a breath before speaking. Think through your words. We’re not meant to test God or anyone else. Save the testing for finals week.
I know that’s so much easier said than done, but what is it that you need to work on in order to not be like this lawyer? How can you better love God and love others this week?