The Haughty Hypocrite

I’m actually a week late with
this message. I pondered preaching this last
Lord’s Day, but as the end of First Corinthians 12 kind of
came together, I decided to go ahead and preach that message
instead. And so if you would, I would
have you turn a week late to Luke chapter 10. You’ll be familiar
with this passage. Luke chapter 10. We call it the
parable of the Good Samaritan. And just the verbal expression
of that well-known phrase elicits warm feelings of good deeds. In fact, entire ministries have
sprung up over the centuries, recurringly bearing that name,
Good Samaritan. And if our vehicle breaks down
on the road, or the bottom falls out of our grocery bag, or we
leave our wallet on a park bench somewhere, our prayer is for
a good Samaritan. Indeed, this parable is one of,
if not the most well-known of all of Jesus’ parables. Even
complete unbelievers, those who have never read the Bible, know
what a good Samaritan is. But as well known as this story
is, I would suggest to you that it is perhaps one of the least
understood of all the parables. We know of it as a heartwarming
story of a selfless act of kindness by an unlikely hero, a Samaritan. And really, that’s about the
extent of our understanding of this passage. Do good to strangers. We get it. There is a point to be made there. A plea to exercise the golden
rule. Treating the other person as
we would like to be treated. We don’t want to be passed by
on the highway if we’ve got a flat tire. And so helping that stranded
motorist or turning in that lost wallet or coming to the aid of
someone in some kind of distress. That’s good and right. We should. And it is indeed a lesson to
which we constantly need to be reminded. We live in a world
that tends to look the other way at someone else in trouble. We need to be admonished and
reminded to care for others, be kind to others, to do good. But if that’s all we take away
from this parable, what do we lose? What do we leave behind if that’s
all we take away from this story? What do we fail to understand
about Jesus’ words? Consider once again patiently,
objectively, and thoughtfully the parable of the Good Samaritan,
which for our purposes this morning, I would title completely differently.
I would call this the spiritual battle of the arrogant lawyer.
If you would, pick up in verse 30, We might as well pick up verse
29 because it’s the lawyer’s question that sets this off.
Wishing to justify himself, he said to Jesus, who is my neighbor? That’s where the parable comes
from. And Jesus replied and said, a certain man was going down
from Jerusalem to Jericho and he fell among robbers and they
stripped him and beat him and went off leaving him half dead. And by chance, a certain priest
was going down on that road, and when he saw him, he passed
by on the other side. And likewise, a Levite also,
when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other
side. But a certain Samaritan, who
was on a journey, came upon him, and when he saw him, he felt
compassion. And he came to him and bandaged
up his wounds, pouring oil and wine on them. And he put him
on his own beast and brought him to an inn and took care of
him. And on the next day, he took
out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper and said, take
care of him. And whatever more you spend,
when I return, I will repay you. Which of these three do you think
proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among into the robber’s
hands? And this arrogant lawyer said,
the one who showed mercy toward him. And Jesus said to him, go
and do the same. Go do good. Go do like the good
Samaritan. Go be a good Samaritan. And so the parable that Jesus
tells is all set in motion by this question that one of his
listeners poses, Who is my neighbor? And Jesus opens up into this
well-known story, a story that still impacts our daily life.
Almost not a day goes by, or at least not a week, without
hearing about some good Samaritan somewhere doing some person in
some crisis some kindness. We always hear about these kinds
of people, and this is where the term good Samaritan came
from. Well, unfortunately, the interpretations of this passage
have just gone from bad to worse over the centuries. One such
interpreter said that the traveler stands as representing mankind
at large, that we fall into trouble, we’re half beaten, and so immediately
there is this allegorical interpretation of almost every facet of this
parable. As I said, it goes from bad to
worse. Another one said this, the journey is from Jerusalem,
the heavenly city, the paradise of man’s first estate, To Jericho,
the evil and accursed city, the sin into which the man entered
by yielding to temptation. Well, the problem is Jesus didn’t
say that, and Jericho is no better, no worse than Jerusalem. Another
one said, the robbers are the powers of evil who strip him
of his robe of innocence and purity and smite him sore and
leave him spiritually half dead. The priest and the Levite, I’m
sure you’re just waiting with bated breath to find out what
they represent. The priest and the Levite represent
the law in its sacrificial and ceremonial aspects. And they
have no power to revive or relieve or rescue. Interesting. And then
Christ comes and helps where the law has failed. We’ll come
back to that thought. The beast, the donkey, likely. The beast on which he rides is
the human nature, didn’t you know? The human nature in which
the word dwelt. And it is upon humanity, Christ’s
humanity, that he bids us to rest in comfort. I’m sure as
soon as you read about the donkey, you thought of Jesus riding.
The inn represents the visible church, The host is its pastors. We had to find a place there
for ourselves, right? The two denarii. I’m sure you’re
wondering what the coins represented. They represent the ordinances,
baptism in the Lord’s table as a means of grace committed to
the church. I’m sure you see that. It’s in
the Greek. No, it isn’t. The man. The poor man that’s beaten and
left half dead represents Adam, who is stripped of his original
righteousness. The robbers are the devil, the
priest. Another take on the priest and the Levite is the Old Testament
ministry. The Good Samaritan is Jesus,
astoundingly. The oil on which the Samaritan
pours is the comfort of the Holy Spirit. The wine is an exhortation
to work. The inn, the coins, these characters,
they all have a place. And now we begin to understand
the wretchedness of allegorical interpretation. You can do anything
you want with this parable. So let’s pause and let’s look
at this parable objectively again. and see what this parable does
teach. Let’s go back to verse 30, if
we would. Jesus replied and said, a certain
man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho and he fell among
robbers and they stripped him and beat him and went off leaving
him half dead. Jesus begins this famous account
by introducing us, although vaguely, to a character, a certain man.
And almost immediately, you know that Jesus is telling a story.
It’s not a true story, although there were many stories like
it, many accounts of robbery on this road. And in so doing,
he calls attention to this individual. He now is the focus. The story
is or will be about him. And Jesus proceeds to tell us
that he is in the midst of a journey. He’s going from one place to
another, a relatively short track from Jerusalem to Jericho, two
well-known and famous cities to his Jewish audience. They
would have known these places well. And the distance between
these two cities is about 20 miles. but the footpath on which
the man was traveling wound through desolate mountainous territory. One historian graphically described
this region. Just listen to this. If we might
conceive the ocean as being suddenly congealed when its waves are
tossed up, mountain high and pitching in wild confusion against
each other, we should then have some idea of the scene of the
desert. The image that that brings to
mind is some of these rocky areas that we’ve all traveled in. And
because it was so sparsely populated and so desolate, this road came
to be known as the red way or the bloody way. because violent
crime in this region was rampant. One more feature to note, Luke
points out that the man was going down. And this captures the descent
from Jerusalem at approximately 2,500 square feet to Jericho
at approximately 800 feet. So it’s a moderate hike. Down
from the chief city of the Jews, he’s heading home, in all likelihood. But this is a bad part of town.
And we’ve all felt what this man may have been feeling as
he trod down this desolate path, alone. Around every corner, in
every steep ravine, in the overhead cliffs, in the silent caves,
Everywhere trouble might be lurking. A crime could be committed here
and no one would see it or hear it. And the perpetrators could
be long gone before help ever arrived. Well, as God’s providence
would have it, in this crime-ridden area, Luke paints an abrupt picture
of the man’s fate. Glance at verse 30 again. He
fell among robbers. Almost to be expected, they stripped
him and beat him. And Luke doesn’t describe just
a hold up, where the man’s money and cell phone and other property
are seized. This is what we call an aggravated
robbery. It’s not enough that they’re
gonna steal from him, because in addition to the theft, they
do him great physical harm. They beat him. And if this were
not enough already, it’s not just a crime of robbery or even
aggravated robbery, but it’s a crime of utter humiliation because they stripped the poor
man of his clothes. And we’re not told the reason
for this, whether or not he was wearing some fine threads or
Air Jordans or what. Maybe he was a wealthy man and
they liked his tunic. That’s what happened to Christ.
Maybe his sandals were of fine calfskin and in relatively new
condition. We don’t know. But the end result
is complete humility. Beaten and then left stripped
of his clothing. And for good measure, Luke adds,
that his attackers went off leaving him half dead. They knew that
he was dying. This is by design. In addition
to having his material possessions stolen, even his simple clothing,
his muggers nearly take his life. And there he lay, unable to move,
without help or hope, dying. And perhaps the man’s heart raced.
now as he suddenly heard footsteps. His assailants perhaps returning
to finish him off or perhaps some kind stranger finally. His
fortune, it would seem at least, is about to dramatically change
because it wasn’t his attackers. These footsteps were not the
robbers returning, they were instead those of someone who
could help Of all people, a man of God. Glance, please, at verse
31. And by chance, a certain priest
was going down that road. It couldn’t get any better. By chance? This is nothing short
of God’s good providence for this man. Not only help, but
a priest. One who could care for him and
pray for him. One with ample resources available
to him. If this poor man were even able
to lift up his eyes for a glance at this priest, his heart would
have swelled with a feeling of relief. Imagine the hope that
welled up in this wounded man if he was even able to notice
this potential helper, but not so fast. I’ve read some accounts of people
who were lost, wounded, injured, in some kind of desperate straits,
whether at sea or in the mountains or in the desert, where they
can hear or see their potential rescuers, either flying overhead
or calling out to them. But the rescuers can’t see them.
And in time when the rescuers depart, I’ve read about the universal
feeling of utter despair that comes over those that are in
such a desperate condition, where their help is so close at hand, but it dissipates before their
longing eyes. This is what this poor fellow
must have felt. The exhilaration of the hope
of being found and helped, Dissolving as this help turns quickly to
hopelessness. Luke records that when the priest
saw him, he passed by on the other side. Jesus makes it absolutely
clear here that this priest could not return back to Jerusalem
and say, I never saw him. I didn’t see what happened. He could never go back and say
that he never saw this injured guy. Jesus tells us that he saw
him. In fact, this was the very cause
of his reaction. When he saw him, he passed by
on the other side. Perhaps this poor man was in
such bad shape that the priest couldn’t even bear to look at
him. In our humanity, we can perhaps understand that. We don’t
know, we’re not told, but let’s just imagine for a moment this
injured man’s reaction at these footsteps that he heard only
moments ago drawing nearer and nearer to suddenly pausing and
immediately begin moving further and further away. And imagine
now the utter despondency as the priest passes him by. The
language that Jesus uses here, as captured by Luke, is so graphic. His word is antiparaailthon,
taken from the verb erkemai, to come. Let me unpack everything
for you. It’s three words blended together.
And it’s a fascinating and very descriptive word. The first word,
as I mentioned, erkemai, just means to come, to arrive. The
second word of this three-word blend is the preposition para,
which basically means beside or alongside, and it could have
a hopeful sign to come alongside of someone. Not here. When we add para to Erkamai,
it just means to pass by. And there’s nothing really unseemly about that word. Just walking down the road, anyone
would have passed by this fellow. But it’s when we add the third
portion of this word, anti, and you heard it there, it’s the
word from which we take our English word, anti. It just means against
or opposite. So that now, antiparaailthon
now takes on a dark and disturbing meaning. to pass by opposite
to. In other words, this priest,
the only help that this man has, tasked with really modeling the
command to do justice, to love kindness, to walk humbly with
his God, now inexplicably takes a path as far from our poor friend
as possible. maybe even adjacent to the cliff,
just somewhere as far as he can be away from this poor injured
individual. And to make matters even worse,
this poor dying man was almost certainly a fellow Jew of the
priest, perhaps even one who had just been in attendance on
the Sabbath, or perhaps some great feast And with one powerful word, Antiparaethon,
Jesus describes how neglectful this man was. As soon as he saw
the needy man, he went completely out of his way to avoid him,
but it gets worse. Look please at verse 32. Likewise,
a Levite also, and you know what? You really don’t even have to
go beyond any of that. Likewise also. You don’t have
to go beyond the word likewise, do we, to know what direction
this is going? The individual, whoever it is,
is going to do exactly as the priest had done. And that’s what
Jesus proceeds to tell us, a likewise also, a Levite. And he compounds
this disappointing news with that word likewise also, no different. And in the same disgraceful scene
now plays out again. When he came to the place and
he saw him, and just like the priest, the Levite, also from
the priestly class, he too saw this man. He too could not say
that he never saw him, And when he saw him, he did just
as the priest had done. He passed by on the other side. He went as far out of his way
as possible. Same exact word used to describe
the same exact behavior. Now, probably out of human guilt. There have been many, many possible
excuses about these two religious leaders that might have been
so neglectful on this occasion. You’ve actually had commentators
try to reach down deep and come up with some explanation as to
what happened here. Here’s one. Maybe it was because
the man, they thought if the man was already dead, The priest
and the Levite, had they touched him, would have become ceremonially
unclean. Perhaps they were too busy. You
know, you’re late for an appointment, and now you’ve got this thing.
We’ve all passed by people in distress, people that would have
benefited from our help, but we were on the way someplace. But it isn’t just for God. to
bind up the brokenhearted, bind up their wounds. This would have
been basic kindness for the priest. There’s no excuse. Maybe they
thought it wasn’t my business. I’m not a trained EMT, right? We come up with all kinds of
excuses. Others said that perhaps it was
such a dangerous situation. After all, they’re on the red
way. If I stop to help him, maybe I’m gonna get robbed too, and
they skedaddle. Saddest of all was the suggestion
that the man was in such bad shape, the priest said, it’s
no use, he’s probably gonna die anyway. That’s terrible. Well, thankfully, Jesus’ account
isn’t finished. There’s still hope for this wounded
man. Look at verse 33, please. But a certain Samaritan who was
on a journey came upon him, and now Jesus’ story takes a surprising
turn, especially to the Jewish here. Jesus introduces us to
a certain Samaritan. And you know well that the Jews
hated these half-heathen, half-Jewish people. They hailed them to be heretics
besides. So for Jesus to suddenly introduce
a Samaritan character into this story cannot be a good sign,
can it? Indeed it can, and it is. Look at how verse 33 unfolds,
a certain Samaritan who was on a journey, whether he was going
up to Jerusalem or coming down from Jerusalem, we don’t know.
It doesn’t matter. He’s on a journey. Luke records
only that Jesus telling us that he came upon this injured man. And Jesus now uses completely
different language than of the priest and the Levite. This Samaritan,
he says, came upon the injured man. He drew near. And that when
he saw him, he felt compassion. He was moved. And the verb here
about compassion is in the passive form, meaning that it was something
that happened to him. God moved him with compassion. And it was immediate. He didn’t
pause to wonder if there were other robbers about. He didn’t
give up because of the man’s very poor condition. The compassion
wasn’t just an empty sentiment. Brother, I’ll pray for you. See
you later. The man did something about what
he saw. He came to him. And instead of
walking completely apart from the man, as the two priests had
done, the Samaritan was drawn to him out of mercy. And immediately,
He transforms into kind of a combination EMT, Red Cross, social worker
guy. It’s amazing. Look at verse 34. He bandaged up his wounds, pouring
oil and wine on them. The wine would have had an antiseptic
effect on the man’s wounds. The oil would have had a soothing
effect. And once he prepped him for transport,
immediately he loaded this wounded individual onto his own beast,
likely a donkey. And then he transported him to
the closest inn, hotel. And even once he’s there, he
doesn’t just drop him off. He continued to take care of
the injured stranger. The Samaritan man’s efforts were
personal. They were thorough. They were
selfless. Look at verse 35. The next day
he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper and said,
take care of him. Whatever more you spend, when
I return, I will repay you. Put this on my tab. It’s like
handing somebody your credit card. Even after he exhausted
all of his own personal capabilities, he provided out of his own financial
means to see that this man was well cared for during his recovery. And if there’s a limit to how
far this man will go to provide for his new friend’s hospitalization,
we can’t find it. It’s bottomless. Jesus says here, whatever more
you spend, I will repay. What a remarkable thing. His care doesn’t stop at medical
treatment, transport to a hotel, hotel fees, whatever he needed. the Samaritan man provided. Verse
36, he asks, Jesus turns now and asks the lawyer, the one
that prompted this discussion, this parable, to evaluate what
he’s just heard. Which of these three, the priest,
the Levite, or the Samaritan, proved to be a neighbor to the
man who fell into the robber’s hands? The answer is so obvious. The Samaritan, of course. But
even here, it would be hard for a Jew to acknowledge a Samaritan’s
kindness. And that’s effectively his answer
in verse 37, but he won’t even say his name. He said the one
who showed mercy toward him. Did you catch that? He can’t
even utter the word Samaritan. And it’s at this juncture that
Luther labels this Jewish lawyer, the haughty hypocrite. And that’s
what this man is, as it will become increasingly clear. He
doesn’t believe that he is a sinner. This is a compelling story, a
fascinating parable, isn’t it? An intriguing account, and as
I said earlier, the basic story has had significant impact on
our world, even down to this day. A good Samaritan. Many years
ago, cities and states began to enact what was called a good
Samaritan law. These were statutes stipulating
that if one came across a person in need, And it was reasonable
for them to stop and to render aid. They were to provide reasonable
care. That became a law. Well, you
can probably see where this is going. The legislation ultimately
led to countless lawsuits because people rolled up on accident
scenes and started pretending to play EMT. As they pulled an
injured man, perhaps with a neck or a spine injury, then they
added more damage to the individual. Well, and then now laws had to
be made to protect those who do render aid and then accidentally
cause additional physical harm to an injured person. Nevertheless,
Most people hold to a basic principle of decency if we see someone
in need to render some kind of aid in this crisis situation
to be a good Samaritan. We get it. But if we stop there
with this parable, I would suggest to you if we go no further than
that, if it remains no more than an admonition to do good to others, to watch for an opportunity to
do a good turn, to pay it forward. If that’s all we get from this
parable, I would suggest to you we miss the entire point of the
parable. It tells us no more than that
we should watch for someone with a flat tire, someone in some
kind of crisis, that it tells us that and no
more. I would suggest to you that if
we walk away from this account with no more than that, we’ve
missed Jesus’ entire point. You see, the parable begins in
verse 30, just as we took it this morning. But the context
is found in verse 25. And the real lesson that Jesus
was setting forth here with this parable is bound to that context. What Jesus is doing here is preaching
the gospel. And the good news is not do good. Try harder, be better, be a good
Samaritan. The good news is not about us
or our efforts at all. The good news is about Jesus
Christ and what He has done and what He will do in and through
a believer’s life. So that what Luke records Jesus
as providing here, I would suggest to you are four aspects of God’s
law that urge us Christward. Four aspects of God’s law that
urge us Christward. Look first of all at verse 25, where we find the law’s mindset. Behold, A certain lawyer stood
up and put him to the test saying, teacher, what shall I do to inherit
eternal life? And Luke captures here, captures
Jesus’ exchange here with an individual, a certain lawyer.
This is not our modern day lawyer, an attorney. This man was an
expert in the Jewish law. The five books of Moses in particular,
similar to a scribe mentioned so often in the gospels, but
scribes dealt more with transcribing the sacred text. Lawyers devoted
themselves to the study and the teaching of the law. Such a man
was a blend of scholar and teacher, like our modern day professor.
And true to his calling, Luke records that he stood up and
put Jesus to the test. That was his aim. And his intention
may not have been as hostile as that comes off to us. He may
have been genuinely curious. Or he may have been playfully
matching wits with Jesus. Or he may have been testing Jesus’
trustworthiness. Let’s see if he does well on
this exam. All of those are possible, but
I see it in a much more sinister light. He was trying to catch
Jesus off guard, something by which to indict our Lord. And
his question really betrays him and the law’s mindset. Glance again at the question,
teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life? How can I earn, by my works,
by my efforts, salvation? This is the perennial question
of the human heart, isn’t it? It doesn’t matter what religion.
Judaism was like all the rest in its legal-minded idea of a
merit-based salvation. If I only do these things, if
I only hold to this system of good works, what they in their own power
might do to inherit eternal life. Spurgeon captured it so well
when he said, salvation by man’s by self is man’s darling hope. Salvation by doings, feelings,
or something other of their own is the favorite delusion of sinners. If we can only do something Well,
this was the overwhelming mindset of the Jews we know. Indeed,
it’s the prevailing mindset, as I said, of all the world’s
religions. What must I do? The rich young ruler asked the
same question in Luke 18. Good teacher, what shall I do
to inherit eternal life? In this question, there’s an
evident strain of pernicious heresy. Salvation by works. God’s kindness, even salvation
is rendered according to merit, according to this system. That’s
the law’s mindset. The law’s mindset is what are
you gonna do? And if the idea of work or trying to work or
earn your salvation by working, by keeping some set of legal
standards, if that sounds unappealing to you, then you’re already sensing
that this is urging you to Christ, to put your faith in Christ,
salvation by Christ only. But there’s a second aspect of
God’s law that also urges us Christward, and we find that
in verse 26. This is the law’s standard. How
rigid is this law? How exact, how precise? And here
Jesus entertains the lawyer’s question with a question of his
own. It’s as if he says, okay, let’s assume this to be true,
this doing. One can work their way to heaven.
What is the biblical standard? What’s written in the law? How
does it read to you? He puts the professor on the
hot seat. After all, this man is a teacher
of the law. And so Jesus gives him first
crack at the answer and he doesn’t pause for a second. Look at verse
27, he answered and said, you shall love the Lord your God
with all your heart and all your soul, with all your strength
and all your mind and your neighbor as yourself, boom. The lawyer
answers as if he’s in Sunday school expecting to win a prize. This verse, Admittedly, this
verse would have been in the tip of the tongue of every Jew.
It was taken from Deuteronomy 6, 5, called the Shema, a prayer
that was recited morning and evening every day by a good Jew. Of course, in keeping the law
would be a direct way to heaven. That’s what God’s word says. But I want you to notice the
law’s standard here. The law’s standard is perfection. Where do I get that idea? From
this verse. There are four superlatives here,
pinnacles of excellence in this one verse. And they’re each identified
by the word all. You shall love the Lord your
God with all your heart. Most of us blew that before we
even got out of bed this morning, right? Certainly before we got
out on the road and shook our fist at the drivers. 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 might. All,
all, all, all. There can truly be no higher
standard than that, can there? every facet of a person’s life
devoted to the love of God, emotional, spiritual, physical, mental. But the Shema added one more
element, a social element, that we should love our neighbors
as ourself. And the lawyer dutifully cites
the end of the Shema as well. And you know what? Had he provided
this in Sunday school, he may well have gotten a prize, because
he cited the entire prayer. And Jesus himself affirms his
answer. Look at verse 28. You’ve answered correctly, ding,
you win. You got it exactly right. There was no reason for him to
pose his original question to Jesus. He knew the answer by
heart. So Jesus concludes, do this and
you will live. This was the promise of the law.
Live according to perfection, loving God and neighbor perfectly,
and you thereby earn eternal life. Simple, right? Hardly. Not only does the law’s
mindset, a mindset of human effort drive us to Christ, the law’s
standard, a standard of perfection urges us to Christ. It’s an exceedingly
high standard. It depends on a perfect life.
If that’s the case, we’re as good as dead, right? But there’s a third aspect of
God’s law to consider. Jesus isn’t done yet. The law’s
neighbor. This third aspect is brought
about by that second question asked by the lawyer. We’ve already
looked at it. He had correctly answered the
Lord’s question, love the Lord your God, love your neighbor.
And suddenly he finds himself in a tight spot. Look at verse
29, but wishing to justify himself, he said to Jesus, who is my neighbor?
Here’s the issue. He’s got to justify himself because
he knew in his heart he had not loved his neighbor perfectly. But I want you to see his arrogance
here. When he goes straight to the
second portion of the Shema, love your neighbor, it’s a clear
indication that this man thought that he had actually mastered
the more difficult initial portion. Loving the Lord your God with
all your heart, soul, strength, and mind. He thought that he
had done it, but he was falling a little bit short on the neighbor
thing. This is utterly shocking. He believed that he had fulfilled
the first portion here perfectly. He had mastered that, but he
had one question about the neighbor thing. Who is my neighbor? And
I want to say under the circumstances, this is somewhat of a reasonable
question. If this man proposes to earn
his way to heaven by salvation, he’s got to narrow down this
list a bit, right? I’ll tell you how I know this.
A couple years ago, I bought a new snowblower. Some of you
have heard this story. I went out and Started on my
driveway and I realized my neighbor is, he’s gonna be leaving for
work soon and I got a new snowblower, I’ll be back to mine. Let me
get him out of his driveway. This is deep snow, a foot or
more. And I cleared his driveway, came
back and I realized the same thing was true of my other neighbor
on the other side. And I went over and cleared his sidewalk
and driveway real quick. And then I realized, well, Chris,
he gets home late. If I leave that sit there all
day, it’ll turn to ice. I might as well go do his. By
the way, I’ll just let you know ahead of time, I have 16 people
in our cul-de-sac. And so one by one, I worked my
way around the cul-de-sac, getting every sidewalk. And let me just
tell you, if it was a matter of me doing that to earn my salvation,
where do you draw the line? Because as I rounded the corner
of the cul-de-sac on each side of the neighborhood, I said,
okay, all right, 16, that’s enough. This man’s mindset, what he’s
doing. I think I can do this if I can
just identify, narrow down my neighbor. Loving him will be
simple. Piece of cake, I’ve already loved God perfectly. The rabbis were classic in narrowing
down the pool of candidates who constituted a neighbor. A Jew
is first and foremost, a Gentile didn’t really rate. The standard
for most Gentiles was that Gentiles were generally overlooked completely. And so our Lord’s purposes here
in telling this parable is not to reissue the ultimate form
of merit that if you would only go be a good Samaritan, You’re
going to heaven. Go love your neighbor. Instead,
his purpose is to show the impossibility of the man’s unspoken claim to
have loved God perfectly. If he hasn’t loved his neighbor
perfectly, then obviously neither has he loved God. But based on the parable that
Jesus told, the lawyer is not going to be able to wiggle his
way out of this portion Not so easily, because the law’s neighbor
is everyone that we could ever meet. And the lawyer knows this. When Jesus asked him at the end
of the parable, which of these proved to be the neighbor to
the man who fell among the robbers? He knew, he knew Jesus to be
answering his own question. And Jesus effectively taught
that your neighbor is anyone and everyone, with a need. And if you’re gonna try and earn
your salvation by law-keeping, you better get busy. You not only have to love God
perfectly, but any person that you ever come across with any
need, you have to love them perfectly as well, today, tomorrow, and
for the rest of your life. And the lawyer knew. The lawyer
knew and correctly answered the question Jesus posed, the one
who showed mercy towards him. And Jesus pins him to the wall
with his closing command. Great, go and do the same. Go live it. Go be the perfect
neighbor to every person that you ever meet with a need on
the face of the earth. And you and I sitting here this
morning would say, that is impossible. You’re absolutely right. Jesus
knew it. And in his infinite mercy, he
wanted the arrogant lawyer to come to his senses and acknowledge
this. What Jesus said was not only
absolutely true, it was absolutely impossible at the same time. If a person was to live a perfect
life according to the law, he would thereby earn salvation. That’s what the Bible says. But
the truth is that in doing so for any mortal man is absolutely
impossible. And Jesus is pointing this man
to this truth and he’s doing so as an act of mercy until a
person comes to the realization that that he cannot earn salvation,
he is stone dead to the truth of the gospel. And that leads
us to the fourth element. The law’s mindset is work, the
law’s standard is perfection, the law’s neighbor is everyone,
which makes the law’s promise impossible. Please look at verse 28 again,
following the lawyer’s answer. To his own question, quoting
the Shema, Jesus commended the man. You’ve answered correctly.
Do this and you will live. If after perfectly loving God,
you perfectly love your neighbor and all of your neighbors, not
to mention keeping the entire rest of the law perfectly, you
will live. You will enjoy eternal life.
It’s yours. You’ve earned it. And when Jesus
said at the end of the parable, go and do the same, go love your
neighbor perfectly all the rest of the days of your life, he
knew full well that it wasn’t possible, but he wanted the lawyer
to acknowledge that. He wanted the lawyer to see his
own human limitations. He wanted him to understand how
far short he had already fallen. He wanted him to see that his
own righteousness was nothing in God’s eyes. That Christ’s
righteousness alone is what lifts men to glory. You say, what’s
the point of this whole thing? It’s an impossible standard. It’s simple as long as we believe
that earning favor with God, earning our salvation is impossible. Otherwise we’re numbed and even
dead to the true gospel of Christ. Unless we see this truth, we
are sinful and hopeless. We don’t need a crucified Savior. But if, like this unfortunate
lawyer who never recognized his utter inability to perfectly
keep God’s perfect standard, if you, in time, are able to
recognize the impossible standard of the law, even to the point
of despair, if you lament of your sin and you acknowledge
your abject inability to remedy your own personal situation,
there’s hope. You just got there. You got to
the starting point because the hope is Christ, not you. Jesus
Christ kept the law perfectly. And then he offered his spotless
life as a sacrifice for sinners. The law, keeping the law, living
according to God’s moral standard has never saved anyone, ever. Listen to this. Arguably the
greatest chapter in the Bible, Romans 8. There’s therefore now
no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. What great
news is that? For the law of the spirit of
life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin
and death for what the law could not do. Can’t save you. You can’t keep it, so it can’t
save you. For what the law could not do, weak as it was through
the flesh, God did. By sending his son in the likeness
of sinful flesh, As an offering for sin, He condemned sin in
the flesh. We must, by God’s grace and the
power of His Spirit, place our trust exclusively in Jesus Christ
for salvation, not in ourselves. It’s not by doing good. And then and only then can we begin to love God as we
ought Can we begin to love our neighbor as we ought? Would you
humble yourself before him in repentance?