Luke 10:27 NIVUK
[27] He answered, ‘ “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, “Love your neighbour as yourself.”’
I was five years old when John Lennon was shot. I had the impression that he had been an important guy – a musician of serious standing and very well respected.
I had no idea that when she was a teenager, my mother had bunked off school, blagged her way to Heathrow airport and screamed her lungs out when his band The Beatles had arrived back from America.
What I remember from that day was the non-stop playing on the news of his last single, ‘Imagine’, with its dreams of a utopian paradise where everyone got along.
One verse in particular stood out:
‘Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion, too
Imagine all the people
Livin' life in peace’
The idea that eliminating religion will bring peace to the world has long been a standpoint of the atheist cult. I used to survey students on campus while I was a student myself. I lost count of the number of times I heard that ‘religion causes wars’. Or it’s stronger variant: ‘religion causes all wars’.
It’s such a snappy slogan, isn’t it? Very buzzy. Very easy to say. It just falls off the tongue.
Such a shame it’s completely untrue.
Maybe that last sentence causes you a great deal of consternation. ‘But you can’t say that, Paul! What about the Crusades, or Islamic fundamentalist terrorism, or 9/11? How can you say that religion didn’t cause them?’
Because it didn’t.
People did.
Forgive me for being a little facetious over such a contentious topic, but when was the last time you saw a Bible going to war with an AK47 strapped to its back?
Or a Koran in a suicide vest?
Or a Bhagavad Gita shooting magic bows and arrows?
Of course you won’t! Because religious ideas don’t cause wars – people do.
That is what the Bible teaches:
James 4:1-3 NIVUK
[1] What causes fights and quarrels among you? Don’t they come from your desires that battle within you? [2] You desire but do not have, so you kill. You covet but you cannot get what you want, so you quarrel and fight. You do not have because you do not ask God. [3] When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures.
Our sinful desires cause struggles that cause wars.
Our human nature lies behind them.
Blaming religions that you don’t believe in for starting wars you don’t want is both intellectually lazy and historically inaccurate.
In short, it's wrong.
It’s just an excuse to do nothing about the problems of the world.
But if human nature lies at the root of war, then we are the problem. As Christian alt-rock band Switchfoot wrote:
‘We’ve been blowing up
We’re the issue
It’s our condition
We’ve been blowing up
We’re the issue
We’re ammunition
We are the fuse and the ammunition’
Now we are the problem, but, simultaneously, we are the solution.
I’m sure you are confused. After all, we are about to study one of the most well known and most beautiful of Jesus’ parables, a story so cute we tell it to our children, and I’m talking about something as ugly as war.
But that’s just it. This is one hundred percent not a cute story. It is based on one of the ancient world’s deepest, most profound hatreds and has a kick at the end that ought to leave us reeling.
And at the root of this parable is how we deal with ‘the others’: those who are different to us and whom we despise for it.
What I’m about to share with you does not come out of some dry theological high tower. I was raised in the midst of it: in a neighbourhood where sectarian chants were the norm for children who were even not long out of kindergarten; in a neighbourhood where ignorance and racism was absolutely rife; in a town where schools were told to close at different times to prevent battles between non-denominational and Catholic kids from getting so out of hand that someone could get seriously injured or even killed.
So yes, I know what ‘othering’ and hatred really do look like.
From the blood and thunder of ‘battles, hatred and war’ – according to a Romanian hymn I once heard sung at a wedding (maybe they knew the in-laws), we’ll firstly turn to something seemingly a lot calmer: A Question of Law.
A Question of Law
Luke 10:25-29 NIVUK
[25] On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. ‘Teacher,’ he asked, ‘what must I do to inherit eternal life?’ [26] ‘What is written in the Law?’ he replied. ‘How do you read it?’ [27] He answered, ‘ “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, “Love your neighbour as yourself.”’ [28] ‘You have answered correctly,’ Jesus replied. ‘Do this and you will live.’ [29] But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbour?’
On the surface, this is an open, honest, sincere question, from a man who had studied the Torah and Rabinnical law – likely for many years – and still can’t find the answer. He has heard that eternal life exists. He wants to go there. He just does not know how.
It is, in that sense, similar to the rich young ruler, recorded in three of the Gospels, who came with the same question (Matthew 19:16-22; Mark 10:17-22; Luke 18:18-22).
Yet both situations have one emotion in common:
Disappointment.
Both questioners leave Jesus’ presence seemingly disappointed, and, in the legal expert’s case, likely seething, with Jesus’ response.
And that would seem to be the opposite to how we would do things. From a marketing point of view, we would think that leaving from Jesus’ presence disappointed would be detrimental to His message and His reputation.
So why does He do it?
The key lies in the question that both men ask: ‘What must I do to inherit eternal life?’
This question is a little foolish: Firstly, because it assumes that eternal life is a legal right or entitlement, as if it were something that was due to us; secondly, because it assumes that we get it as the result of doing something.
But that’s just it: we can’t.
It is by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone.
Ephesians 2:8-9 NIVUK
[8] For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith – and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God – [9] not by works, so that no-one can boast.
We cannot earn it. We cannot buy it. But we can receive it – only because of Jesus.
That’s why – and this is where the disappointment comes in – Jesus tells them to do something which is correct and proper, but they find impossible. He is demonstrating to them the well-worn principle which Paul later expounds in his letter to the Romans:
Romans 3:22-24 NIVUK
[22] This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference between Jew and Gentile, [23] for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, [24] and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.
There is nothing we can do to save ourselves. We are sinful. We are ‘Too Far Gone’ (to quote my last post series) for us to rescue ourselves from our own sin.
Only Jesus can.
So, you see, this question is really about How to be saved, with the questioners believing they can achieve it through their own efforts, and Jesus making them aware that the demands that it takes for them to reach God’s standards of perfection are beyond their ability to reach (note Matthew 19:21 in particular).
What comes next, though, is not how to be saved, because no deed can save us. No, it is How to obey – that is, how to do what God requires.
And the expert in the law provides a correct response – which Jesus Himself uses under later questioning (Matthew 22:34-40).
What is more, the legal expert doesn’t scrimp on the love, so to speak. He doesn’t say that should be ‘matey’ or ‘friendly’ with God, our neighbours and ourselves, he uses the Greek word agapao, which means unconditional, sacrificial love.
So obeying God means three things:
Loving God with all I am
Loving my neighbour
Loving myself – because if I can’t love myself, then I can’t love my neighbour as I love myself
And you should do it unconditionally and sacrificially.
If you want to know what this looks like, read Paul’s unpacking of it in 1 Corinthians 13.
So far, so good.
That all appears to be very straightforward.
At least, to the legal expert.
But this legal expert is not done. Every legal expert loves a loophole. He is looking for a get-out clause. He wants a back door into the Kingdom of God. So he seeks clarity on a question: Who to Love?
Luke 10:29 NIVUK
[29] But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbour?’
He was likely hoping that Jesus would go easy on him: select for him some of his best mates; people he really liked, appreciated, admired and respected. That would be nice, right?
Oh boy, was he wrong!
And to explain the full, thunderous impact of this parable, we need to side-track a little to look at A Question of Enmity.
A Question of Enmity
John 4:9 NIVUK
[9] The Samaritan woman said to him, ‘You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?’ (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.)
I was born in Glasgow, a city widely recognised to have the most bitter sporting rivalry on earth, between the Glasgow Rangers and Glasgow Celtic football teams. Some rivalries are based on sporting or financial grudges.
This one, however, has much deeper foundations.
It is build on religion: Rangers, the older of the two teams (founded in 1875) emerged from Protestants; Celtic (founded in 1888) emerged from Catholics.
It is built on race: Rangers’ fan base is predominantly Scottish, with ties to Northern Ireland; Celtic’s is Scottish with ties to the Republic of Ireland.
It is built on history: Rangers supporters side with William of Orange and other Protestant kings; Celtic with the Catholic kings.
It is built on politics: Rangers fans are Loyalists, campaigning for Northern Ireland to remain part of the UK; Celtic fans are Republicans, wanting a united Ireland.
When they play, the atmosphere is fierce and loud.
After the game, there is often violence. Accident and Emergency (ER) departments in Glasgow hospitals are much busier than usual, with instances of drunkenness, fights, stabbings and even domestic abuse.
None of that has anything to do with football.
Yet even that fierce rivalry is nothing in comparison to the hatred between Jews and Samaritans.
This rivalry, first of all, was built on history.
And quite an unsavoury one at that.
The original inhabitants of the area of land that became known as Samaria (named after its capital) were Israelites from the Northern Kingdom, which had split from Judah (the Southern Kingdom) during a fallout two generations after King David (1 Kings 12:1-24). They quickly added idolatry to their rebellion (1 Kings 12:25-33), and a well established pattern of gross sin and idolatry led to them being exiled by the Assyrians (2 Kings 17:1-33).
The Assyrian king, in a tactic that has often been repeated by dictators throughout history, repopulated the land with foreigners who worshipped all kinds of false gods, and then added Yahweh to it when they were endangered by lions (2 Kings 17:34-41).
After Judah was exiled, and then returned seventy years later, it was the forerunners of the Samaritans who sought to stymie the rebuilding of the Temple and the Jerusalem city wall (Ezra 4 and 5; Nehemiah 4 and 6).
You can imagine, then, the size of the grudge the Jews bore against them.
It was also a matter of religion.
The original Samaritans had set up their own syncretistic religion back when the land was repopulated (2 Kings 17:34-41), which mixed elements of Judaism, designed to stop God from striking them down, with the pagan religions from the lands from which they had come.
They even had their own temple (John 4:20) on Mount Gerizim.
Jesus Himself highlighted the religious differences between the Samaritans and the Jews (John 4:22). However, they did have one thing in common, despite their huge differences:
They both longed for a Messiah (John 4:25-26).
Because of the repopulation of Samaria, there were also racial and cultural differences. Quite large ones at that.
But it is possible that what irked the Jews the most is that the people who once held that land were Israelites like them, and now, for hundreds of years, it had belonged to someone else.
And the cause of that exile and repopulation was sin – sin at a national level; sin in which Judah was also caught up and which also caused their exile (2 Kings 17:1-33).
In short, the very existence of the Samaritans was a symbol of their abject failure to be faithful to God and a source of deep humiliation.
This was a history of hatred.
A hatred we see working itself out in the Gospels, in a situation that was seen as a grave cultural insult by Peter (Luke 9:51-56).
Maybe you’re wondering why I have explained at some length why relationships between the Jews and the Samaritans were so bad.
Well, if you hold our petty grudges, our disputes, our arguments, our struggles, our fallouts, up to the light and compare them with the historic enmity between the Jews and the Gentiles then we have to come to only one conclusion:
They don’t measure up.
There are tiny, petty, small.
Not worth our time, our energy and certainly not our stress.
Yet Jesus takes their enmity and strikes it down, making it plain that it has no leg to stand on and is actually a huge violation of the most basic principles behind Jewish law.
In essence, it is a flagrant act of disobedience.
And that is the point of this parable.
So if even their enmity is a flagrant act of disobedience, unjustified and quite frankly, wrong, what about ours?
This parable was, then, both about a question of law and a question of enmity. In fact, what we have seen is that the law trumps the enmity and renders it inexcusable.
But where do we go from this?
We can see, then, A Question of Risk.
A Question of Risk
Luke 10:29-32 NIVUK
[29] But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbour?’ [30] In reply Jesus said: ‘A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half-dead. [31] A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. [32] So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side.
This is a passage we read through far too quickly. We must understand its full impact.
The Jerusalem to Jericho road leads through Wadi Quelt, a mostly desolate area that leads up to the Mount of Olives. It is rocky and hilly, but, to the same time, was a well-used trade route and road between two of the richest cities in Judea. We know from elsewhere in Luke that Jericho was a place where there were Roman tax collectors (Luke 19:1-10). It was a walled city of no little substance, so the tax pickings would have been rich. It isn’t hard to imagine a lot of goods flowing between the two, and tax income flowing towards Jerusalem, where the Roman governor sat.
Its importance as a trade route, allied to its desolate nature, meant that it was also rich pickings for robbers and bandits.
Sad to say, but the tale of violent, merciless robbery at the start of this parable would not have been met with a shocked gasp, but more likely a shrug of the shoulder.
It happened. It was an everyday occurrence.
It just wasn’t that big a deal.
Except for anyone who found themselves in that position, of course.
What we see next, though, are people facing a series of risks, which tell us how the law to love God, our neighbour and ourselves should be applied.
Firstly, we see a ceremonial risk.
Luke 10:31-32 NIVUK
[31] A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. [32] So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side.
The Pharisees, Sadducees and teachers of the law might have resented being characterised here as heartless bystanders when someone, likely from their own nation, had been attacked and was at the point of death, but they could not have argued against it.
Because there was a ring of truth to it – to which everyone else listening could attest.
In fact, as much as it may have stung, this is exactly what they would have done.
And do you know why?
Numbers 19:11-13 NIVUK
[11] ‘Whoever touches a human corpse will be unclean for seven days. [12] They must purify themselves with the water on the third day and on the seventh day; then they will be clean. But if they do not purify themselves on the third and seventh days, they will not be clean. [13] If they fail to purify themselves after touching a human corpse, they defile the Lord’s tabernacle. They must be cut off from Israel. Because the water of cleansing has not been sprinkled on them, they are unclean; their uncleanness remains on them.
Numbers 19:16 NIVUK
[16] ‘Anyone out in the open who touches someone who has been killed with a sword or someone who has died a natural death, or anyone who touches a human bone or a grave, will be unclean for seven days.
Numbers 31:19 NIVUK
[19] ‘Anyone who has killed someone or touched someone who was killed must stay outside the camp seven days. On the third and seventh days you must purify yourselves and your captives.
So, you see, the issue here is that the priest and the Levite didn’t help the injured man because they were afraid that he might die in their presence and render them unclean.
They were not afraid for him; they were afraid for themselves.
This was about self-protection. Self-preservation.
It was the law that would have caused them to be considered unclean – for likely justifiable reasons – but Jesus’ point in this parable was that it was also the law that required them to assist. After all, if the man had been with an ox or a donkey that had fallen they would have been required to help (Deuteronomy 22:4).
But not the man himself?
That is absurd!
The thing is, though: don’t we do exactly the same thing? We come across someone who is in need. We can help them with that need. But do we do something about it?
Or do we argue with ourselves in our mind and find a rule somewhere to protect ourselves from it?
James has something rather stark to say about this:
James 4:17 NIVUK
[17] If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them.
Jesus’ point was that their laws may have presented an argument why they should not help this man, but if they chose to walk away, they were violating the underlying principle of the law and therefore sinning.
We have much less of an argument to excuse ourselves from helping.
How much more us!
Apart from the ceremonial risk, we also see a physical risk.
The Samaritan came across this man lying by the side of the road, likely in a desolate place. His wounds seemed relatively fresh.
Do you know what this would mean?
The bandits were likely nearby.
And so were wild carrion beasts.
The Jerusalem to Jericho road was dangerous. I don’t know if you have ever travelled through a dangerous place, but there is always one golden rule:
Keep moving.
Keep a steady pace so you don’t seem afraid and attract unnecessary attention.
But whatever you do, keep moving and do not do anything that would slow you down.
This Samaritan violates all of that.
Luke 10:33-34 NIVUK
[33] But a Samaritan, as he travelled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. [34] He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him.
He went to him: the bleeding body on the road that would be attracting the attention of hungry animals and birds.
He stopped. Even though the bandits might have been close.
He tended to his wounds – taking the time to help even though he himself was in danger.
He put the injured man on his own donkey, thus slowing down his own escape were bandits to strike.
Jesus’ point in all this?
True love takes risks.
1 Corinthians 13:4-7 NIVUK
[4] Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. [5] It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. [6] Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. [7] It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Not senseless risks, but calculated, careful risks. Risks that are fleeting and limited and temporary – humans were not meant to be exposed to constant risk.
But it still takes risks.
It puts itself in danger.
Do you want proof of this?
Romans 5:6-8 NIVUK
[6] You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. [7] Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. [8] But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
Jesus took the biggest risk for us – to save us. We did not deserve it. We did not even ask for it. But He did it for us.
Are we willing to take calculated risks for those in need?
Apart from the ceremonial and physical risks here, we also see a financial risk.
And this is quite a big one:
Luke 10:34-35 NIVUK
[34] He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. [35] The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. “Look after him,” he said, “and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.”
Two denarii was the equivalent of two day's work for a manual labourer (Matthew 20:1-16). It wasn’t a small amount of money.
What’s more, the Samaritan was committing himself to a completely unknown level of expenditure for a completely unknown man in a completely unknown state. He didn’t carry around with him an x-ray machine or a CT scanner. He had no idea just how badly injured this man was, or how long it would take him to recover.
This was quite the risk.
When we seek to meet the needs of others, there may well be a commitment required of things that are precious to us: time, money, other resources. The Bible does not flinch from that (see 2 Corinthians 9:6-15 for a good example). Often doing so will involve an element of risk – to ourselves, our family, even our future career.
What Jesus is saying is that love is worth the risk.
Always.
And, not surprisingly, John agrees:
1 John 3:16-18 NIVUK
[16] This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters. [17] If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person? [18] Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.
One last word here on the aspect of risk. Jesus does not give us the nationality of the injured man. Most likely, he was a Jew, given where he was found.
But Jesus does not tell us – and I believe that is for a reason: love should not be bound by race or affiliation or immigration status or financial status or any other worldly way in which we measure people. Love is love. True agapao love has no conditions – not even these.
And true agapao love takes risks.
So we have seen, then, that what we see here is a question of law, in that there is a requirement for everything we do to be underpinned by unconditional love, enmity, which is the opposite of love and must be set aside, and risk, which is taken when we are motivated by love.
We then move on to the critical question, which is A Question of Love.
A Question of Love
Luke 10:29, 36-37 NIVUK
[29] But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbour?’
[36] ‘Which of these three do you think was a neighbour to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?’ [37] The expert in the law replied, ‘The one who had mercy on him.’ Jesus told him, ‘Go and do likewise.’
I find these some of the most telling verses in the whole of the Bible.
Here is a man who has admitted that the whole of the law he has studied for years can be summed up in loving God, others and yourself. Yet simultaneously he is living a life of utter hatred towards a group of people who are different to him.
And what is his desire?
To justify himself.
He wants Jesus to make him look good.
Think about that.
It's quite something, isn’t it?
But look at Jesus’ question.
What a question!
Asked so sensitively, but so very loaded, Jesus asks the expert in the law to tell him who he thinks is the neighbour in that story.
Now, we have to understand this correctly. Jesus is not just referring to proximity – to someone who is physically nearby. No, He is talking about affinity: about someone who acts neighbourly; who helps rather than just stands by.
This is what Solomon wrote centuries earlier:
Proverbs 27:10 NIVUK
[10] Do not forsake your friend or a friend of your family, and do not go to your relative’s house when disaster strikes you – better a neighbour nearby than a relative far away.
Now, the answer is absolutely obvious. No great intelligence is needed to work it out.
But that doesn’t make it easy.
Jesus’ parable features two of the leadership class in Judaism: two of their best people, with great standing in the community, and recipients of respect.
Yet they did not act in a neighbourly manner. They left the robbery victim to bleed in the dirt. They may have had their reasons for doing so, but they were ultimately self-centred.
The one person who did act in a neighbourly manner was a despised Samaritan.
The legal expert would have known this, but he hated those people so much he could not even name then.
Evidently he was suffering from some sort of irony deficiency as he answered Jesus through gritted teeth. He had told Jesus how love was the greatest command.
Yet he was incapable of loving the Samaritans.
I once challenged a protestant preacher who was a friend of our family about his sectarian thoughts about Catholics. ‘I have to love them.’ he admitted grudgingly, before adding, ‘But I don’t have to like them.’
That, of course, is utter nonsense. Our agapao love has to lead to us liking those who are our natural enemies.
Otherwise it isn’t love.
Jesus’ question seems so simple that even a small child could answer it. But for an adult so full to the brim of hatred and grudges, the simple answer was not so simple. It exposed that this legal expert was not obedient to the law he knew intellectually so very well.
But what about us? Can we, who are saved by grace, get away without loving ‘the others’, whom our culture dictates should be our sworn and mortal enemies?
Not at all!
1 John 4:7-12 NIVUK
[7] Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. [8] Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. [9] This is how God showed his love among us: he sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. [10] This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. [11] Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. [12] No-one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.
And before we look for a get-out clause, our agapao love should not be restricted just to our fellow believers. We must remember:
Romans 5:6-8 NIVUK
[6] You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. [7] Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. [8] But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
John 3:16 NIVUK
[16] For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.
If we are to be true Christians and live like Christ, then this is how we must love.
Which brings us nicely through a question of law, enmity, risk and love to A Question of Obedience.
A Question of Obedience
Luke 10:37 NIVUK
[37] The expert in the law replied, ‘The one who had mercy on him.’ Jesus told him, ‘Go and do likewise.’
These are just four simple words, but with enormous meaning.
These are firstly disruptive words.
Jesus has taken this man’s relatively benign sounding legal question and turned it into a tremor that would upend centuries of hatred. His simple tale and His question had demonstrated that in all those years when the Jews had hated the Samaritans, they had been violating their own law.
Now, we must understand this correctly. Jesus is not saying that the Jews should have tolerated or even approved of the Samaritans’ syncretistic idol worship.
Not at all.
It is very important to note – and this generation must have understand this – that it is absolutely possible to love someone but hate what they do.
I don’t know if you have ever had the misfortune of having an addict in your family or in your circle of close friends. It is an impossibly difficult situation. You love them – of course you do. That goes without saying.
But you don’t see them as simply assuming their identity as the neighbourhood junkie.
Not at all.
You hate what they do. You despise it. Because it is destroying both them and the people around them.
So it is absolutely possible to love the sinner and hate the sin. Indeed, it is godly – because that is what God did for us.
When Jesus said this, He was expecting the legal expert to upend centuries of ill-feeling and love Samaritans.
But not at all their idolatry.
Secondly, they are directive words.
Jesus orders this man to go and do the same. There is no choice. There is no way out. To obey Jesus, and to obey the law, he has no option but to love his enemies.
Thirdly, they are individual words.
While they are a global call to obedience, Jesus was telling this man, personally, that he should put this teaching into practice.
Why?
Because he was an expert in the law. He had influence. People would listen to him. And so if he loved the Samaritans, others would follow, convinced by his expertise.
This is a command that is easy to say, but challenging to do.
However, the fact that Jesus gave it to us tells us one singular truth: it is possible. It can be done.
Jesus also doesn’t tell the legal expert to work towards it, or to seek wise counsel to do it, or to set himself a target to do it. He said to him to do it. Now. Right away.
But what about our difficulties? Our arguments? Our petty differences?
The same command comes to us to stop hating and start loving now, without exception and without condition.
Because in Christ, we can.
Conclusion
Matthew 22:35-40 NIVUK
[35] One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question: [36] ‘Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?’ [37] Jesus replied: ‘ “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” [38] This is the first and greatest commandment. [39] And the second is like it: “Love your neighbour as yourself.” [40] All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.’
A number of years ago, we chose to go to the legendary Croatian city of Dubrovnik on holiday – before the TV series ‘Game of Thrones’ promoted it to one of the most over-visited places on earth.
We were there for a week, and so chose what, for some people, is an unusual tour: we took a day trip to Mostar in Bosnia-Herzegovina.
What a lot of people don’t know about Bosnia is that it, along with many of the Balkan nations, is actually a very pretty country.
However, most people are put off by the horrors of the wars that were fought there in the 1990s, even though they have long since ended.
Our trip there was actually excellent, and something we heartily recommend to anyone else who will be in the area, but the scars of their tragic war are still too visible. Most of the countries of the former Yugoslavia speak a language with a lot of similarities to that of their neighbours. However, Serbia and Montenegro use the Cyrillic alphabet (similar to Russian); all the other countries use the Latin alphabet. Once we had crossed the border into Bosnia, we noticed that every road sign was written in both alphabets.
But the Cyrillic signs had been crossed out with spray paint.
The country has long been at peace, but the deep pain of the war is still raw.
Bosnia is still a divided country between the Croats, Bosniaks and Serbs. There are divided local authorities, a divided parliament and even different football leagues.
The only thing in the country that unites all three people groups is the Evangelical church.
Hatred and suspicion and fear still abound; only in the church is there love and forgiveness.
And it is that hatred and fear which weakens and cripples the country.
I am aware that so-called Christians do not always bring people together. Like I said before, I live in the West of Scotland, where the Catholic-Protestant divide of Northern Ireland, just across the Irish Sea, has an irresistible gravitational pull. I’m aware that both sides of that division call themselves Christian.
I’m also aware that some so-called Christians in the United States, and elsewhere, take a great, perverse joy in being controversial and divisive.
However, let me state this clearly.
The Bible says that we will know who the true followers of Jesus are by their fruit (Matthew 7:15-20). Later on we see that part of the fruit of the Spirit is love (Galatians 5:22-26), whereas hate is an act of the flesh (Galatians 5:19-21).
John also teaches that real Christians love (1 John 2:9-11), whereas fake Christians hate (1 John 3:15-16).
Do you see where I am going with this?
A real Christian cannot hate anyone, because to do so would be to disobey Jesus and not be like Him.
Let me say that again: a real Christian cannot hate anyone.
Not even those who are opposed to us.
Not even those who actively persecute us.
As Jesus Himself – the One from whom we derive our name – said:
Matthew 5:43-48 NIVUK
[43] ‘You have heard that it was said, “Love your neighbour and hate your enemy.” [44] But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, [45] that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. [46] If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? [47] And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? [48] Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.
The purpose of this parable is to communicate the fact that obedience to God means that we have to love, we cannot hate.
Even if our neighbour is thoroughly unlovable.
So do you love your neighbour?
I am well aware that some of you may well have been harmed by so-called Christians who have not acted in love towards you, but have acted in vile hatred.
Let me tell you right now: you did nothing that deserved it. They were very much in the wrong. Do not be in any doubt about that. Because no-one – absolutely no-one – should ever be on the receiving end from hatred from someone who claims to be a Christian.
Why?
1 John 4:7-8 NIVUK
[7] Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. [8] Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.
When you were ‘othered’ by a so-called Christian, when you were hated and treated with contempt, they were absolutely out of line. They were misrepresenting their church, their Lord and their Message, which is the Gospel.
What I urge you to see in this passage is that Jesus is absolutely dead against that kind of treatment. His teaching is love. To obey Him is love.
And that love is like no other love you will ever find elsewhere.
That love has no conditions.
But it is a love that longs for you to love Him in return.
He demonstrated His love by taking an enormous risk, even greater than the Samaritan, to heal your wounds and to bring you home.
Isn’t it time you loved Him back?
Isn’t it time you followed Him, no matter what those who claim to be following Him have done to you?
Leave them to Jesus. He will see justice is done.
But come, experience this love for yourself.
You will find there is no better love.
Prayer
Lord Jesus, I find myself sorely convicted by this beautiful parable. I am sorry for all the times I have acted in hatred towards someone else. I was wrong. I know that now. I was disobedient. I repent of it and ask that You would show me how to love. Amen.
Questions
What was the legal expert’s question? Was it legitimate? Why?
What was the reason why the priest and the Levite did not help the injured man? Was this correct? Why / why not?
What risks did the Samaritan take to help the injured man? How can we love other people like this?
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