The Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity – Vicar Lehne sermon
Text: St. Luke 10:23-37
In Christ Jesus, who always loves us, his neighbors, as himself, dear fellow redeemed:
The lawyer was not happy. After all, he was an expert in the Law. He knew what the Law said and what it meant. And yet, in a verse that came just before our text for today, Jesus said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will” (Luke 10:21). Not only did this suggest that little children knew more about the Law than the lawyer did, but this also suggested that faith, given by God, was all that was required to understand the Holy Scriptures and to be saved. The lawyer had to prove that he understood the Law better than little children, better than Jesus. So, he put Jesus to the test, saying, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life” (verse 25)?
The Law clearly stated what a person had to do to be saved, so if Jesus’ answer showed that he did, in fact, believe that it was by faith that a person was saved, he would prove his ignorance. However, Jesus didn’t answer the lawyer’s question. Instead, Jesus turned it on him, saying, “What is written in the Law? How do you read it” (verse 26)? While not what the lawyer was expecting, he now had a chance to prove that he understood the Law. So, he summarized the Law by saying, “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 your neighbor as yourself” (verse 27). Jesus then responded to the lawyer by saying, “You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live” (verse 28).
Wait, so Jesus didn’t think that a person was saved by faith alone? That’s what Jesus’ response sounded like to the lawyer. However, that’s not what Jesus meant. He was actually trying to get the lawyer to see that he couldn’t live up to what the Law demanded and that it was purely by God’s grace and mercy that he was saved. But the lawyer didn’t see what Jesus wanted him to see. Instead, the lawyer shifted his goal to justifying himself. Jesus had told him to “do this,” but he already thought that he had. He had loved God like he should and his neighbor as himself—as long as “neighbor” was defined in a certain way. To see if Jesus saw things the way he did, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”
This question was intended to prove to Jesus that the lawyer was needed to legally define what a neighbor is. After all, in the lawyer’s mind, since the Law was given by Moses to the Jews at the Mount Siani, then a neighbor had to be someone within the Jewish community, and he wanted to make that belief law. However, Jesus didn’t give the lawyer the justification he was looking for. Instead, Jesus showed that everyone is our neighbor, and therefore, (1) we’re not to show our love just to those we think deserve it, but (2) we’re to show our love to everyone, just as Jesus loves all of us.
In the parable, Jesus not only put the priest and the Levite, whom the lawyer would associate himself with, in a bad light, but he also put the Samaritan in a good light. The Samaritans were certainly not people whom the Jews would consider to be their neighbors. They were a mixed race and didn’t follow the Old Testament to the letter like the Jews did. But by using the Samaritan as the good example, Jesus made his point abundantly clear, so that even the lawyer had to admit it when he said that the one who “proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers” (verse 36) was “[t]he one who showed him mercy” (verse 37), or the good Samaritan.
When we hear accounts from the Bible like these, we can often times think to ourselves, “Yeah! You tell them Jesus!” However, we fail to realize that Jesus was not just speaking to the lawyer. He was speaking to all of us. Like the lawyer, there are those whom we don’t think deserve our love. Maybe it’s because they are murderers. Maybe it’s because they committed adultery. Maybe it’s because they didn’t keep a promise that they made. Or maybe it’s simply because they don’t belong to our group, like how the Jews viewed the Samaritans.
There are even times when we don’t think that those whom we would normally consider to be our neighbors deserve our love. In times like these, we act like the priest and the Levite, who passed by a fellow Jew in need of their help, simply because it wasn’t convenient for them. We might be willing to help someone in need, as long as it’s convenient for us or it benefits us. But, if we think that people have to deserve our love, then we also have to admit that we don’t deserve God’s love.
Since we have to keep the entire Law in order to earn God’s love, as Jesus told the lawyer, then we have to admit that we’ve failed. Sure, on the surface it may look like we’ve kept the entire Law, but Jesus shows us that it doesn’t take much to break the Law. We may think that we haven’t murdered anyone, but Jesus says that “everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council; and whoever says, ‘You fool!’ will be liable to the hell of fire” (Matthew 5:22). We may think that we haven’t committed adultery, but Jesus says that “everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Matthew 5:28). We may think that we haven’t sworn falsely, but Jesus says, “Let what you say be simply ‘Yes’ or ‘No’; anything more than this comes from evil” (Matthew 5:37). We may think that we don’t have to show love to our enemies, like how the Jews thought they didn’t have to show love to the Samaritans, but Jesus says, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:44). And these are just some of the ways that we fail to love our neighbors as ourselves.
We’re like the man who was attacked by robbers; beaten, bloody, and clinging to life; except we’re not the victim. We’re that way because of the sins that we committed, and Jesus would have every right to pass us by on the other side of the road and leave us to the fate that we brought upon ourselves. But he didn’t. Instead, like the good Samaritan, he came to help us in our time of need.
During his life on earth, Jesus was a good Samaritan in every way that we failed to be. He had compassion on those in need, feeding those who were hungry, healing those who were sick, and casting out demons. He didn’t let the background of others stop him from helping them. In fact, he would often times associate with Samaritans and those whom the religious authorities considered sinners. He even showed love to his enemies, praying while he was on the cross, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). And he wasn’t concerned for his own wellbeing, putting the wellbeing of others before his own, with the ultimate example of this being that he willingly laid down his own life for our benefit. As the apostle Paul says, “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).
On the cross, Jesus paid the price for all of the times that you didn’t show love to your neighbors. You did nothing to deserve the love that Jesus showed you, for you were completely helpless and dying on the side of the road. But Jesus washed your wounds with the waters of baptism, nursed you back to health by feeding you the medicine that is his own body and blood in the Lord’s Supper, and clothed you with his own perfect and holy garments. Because of what Jesus did for you and still does for you, you haven’t just received the forgiveness of sins that he won for you, but his perfect fulfillment of the Law has also been applied to your life. Now, the Father no longer sees the beaten and bloody sinner that you once were, but only the new man that his only begotten Son, Jesus, made you. This is the same message that Jesus was trying to get the lawyer to understand, that he had come to save sinners and open heaven to all who trust in him.
The lawyer didn’t get the answer from Jesus that he was looking for. He thought that he had a better understanding of what a neighbor is than others did, and he thought that by showing love only to those whom he thought deserved it would earn him a place in heaven. Jesus showed him that his understanding of what a neighbor is was wrong and also that he needed the grace and mercy that only God can give in order to be saved. It is a message that the lawyer needed to hear, as well as all of us. We have not loved our neighbors like we should, but Jesus has loved us. Because of his love we now live, and because of his love we love one another as he has loved us.
Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost; as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, forevermore. Amen.
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(picture from “Parable of the Good Samaritan” by Jan Wijnants, 1632-1684)
The Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity – Pr. Faugstad sermon
Text: St. Luke 10:23-37
In Christ Jesus, whose “go and do” was perfectly fulfilled for you by His own life of love toward God and neighbor, dear fellow redeemed:
Who are the bad guys in Jesus’ account of the Good Samaritan? There are several bad guys, but they aren’t bad for the same reasons. The robbers sinned by beating up a man, taking his things, and leaving him for dead. The priest and the Levite sinned by not helping him when they saw him on the side of the road. But who was it that sinned the most?
The robbers sinned by their actions. The priest and the Levite sinned by their inaction. In our Catechism, we classify the sin of the robbers as sins of commission. They actively sinned against the Fifth and Seventh Commandments. They committed wrongs. The sins of the temple workers were sins of omission. They did not help their neighbor as the Fifth Commandment requires. They omitted to do what they should have.
Still it seems to us that the sins committed by the robbers were worse than the sins of the temple workers. After all, the robbers went looking for trouble; the priest and the Levite just happened on the scene. Let’s put ourselves in the sandals of these passers-by for a moment. We presume that the priest and the Levite were on their way to serve in the temple in Jerusalem. This service required that they be ceremonially clean. Touching the body of a dead man would disqualify them for that important work, and it looked like this man might not make it. And besides, they weren’t doctors—what could they even do for him? It was best to hurry on their way and pray that someone else would come along to help.
Sins of omission (inaction) almost always seem less serious than sins of commission (action). It is easier to justify why we did not do something good to help our neighbor than it is to justify something we did to hurt our neighbor. This is why the lawyer speaking to Jesus felt confident in his own righteousness. He thought that he had kept the Law of God. He hadn’t killed anyone, he hadn’t cheated on his wife, he hadn’t taken someone else’s things, and so on. He had avoided sins of commission—at least in his opinion.
But refraining from bad behavior is only half of what God requires in His Law. He also requires that we show love to Him and our neighbors. So for example, honoring God’s name doesn’t just mean keeping ourselves from cursing, swearing, and lying by His name. It also means praying to Him, praising Him, and giving Him thanks. Protecting our neighbor’s life does not just mean holding back from physical harm. It also means helping him and showing kindness whenever he has a need. Protecting our neighbor’s things is more than just not stealing. It is also helping him to do better and improve what he has.
Keeping the Commandments is not just some cold exercise in avoiding wrongdoing. We might think we could accomplish that by never leaving our home or our bedroom, never speaking to or interacting with others. Then we could sit all alone with hearts full of pride thinking about how we are not as bad as all the people “out there.” But then what good have we actually done for our neighbors? This is why Martin Luther and many others renounced the monastic life—they realized that by hiding away, they were serving only themselves and not their neighbors.
But there is a problem with opening ourselves up to the needs and concerns of others: we might have to do some hard things. We might have to change the plans we had. We might have to get our hands dirty as we serve the hurting and the helpless.
I recently read a beautiful little book called Bright Valley of Love (Edna Hong). It detailed the life of a severely crippled boy who was treated little better than an animal by his parents and grandmother. They thought of him as a nobody, a nothing, who would never contribute to society in a worthwhile way. When he was six, they decided they had had enough and dropped him off at a center called Bethel, a Christian place where the physically and mentally disabled were cared for. There he learned to speak and walk and carry out numerous tasks for others in the community. It was a wonderful institution that focused on the needs of both body and soul.
Then World War II began, and Hitler gave the order that any people in Germany like the ones at this center, people who required full-time care—the mentally ill, disabled, paralyzed, infirm—that these should be “mercifully” killed. It’s terrible, isn’t it? Assigning greater value to one life than another. But we still do it—we all do it. Maybe we have something against a certain group of people because of how they look or where they come from. Maybe we wish harm on those who hold different views about culture and politics than we do. Maybe we look at a portion of the population as nothing more than a drain on our valuable resources.
Until we have nothing but love in our hearts and our minds toward our neighbors, including the ones we look down on or the ones who look down on us, we have not loved as God requires us to do. The man from Samaria spent his time, energy, and money on a man from Judea. Generally speaking, the Jews and the Samaritans despised each other. They wouldn’t think of lifting a finger to help one another. But God moved the Samaritan’s heart to compassion, and friends were made out of enemies.
God calls us to make friends like the Samaritan did, by making sacrifices and serving our neighbors around us. It is not possible for us to solve all the problems in the world. We can’t help everyone who is hurting. But we can help the people we come in contact with. The same book I read made the point that the neighbor who most needs your attention is the person near you who is suffering the most. That might be your parent or sibling, your spouse or child, a co-worker, someone you hardly know, or someone you don’t know yet.
Instead of looking at others with eyes of evil and disdain like the robbers, or with eyes of distraction or disinterest like the priest and Levite, we want to look at one another with eyes of compassion. That’s how the Samaritan looked upon the man whom he assisted and cared for. That’s how Jesus looks upon us.
You see, we’re not so different from the man who was robbed and beaten up. But it isn’t our enemies that have done this work. It is the Law of God. The perfect commands of God’s Law rob us of any notion that we have lived the kind of life that He requires. The lawyer wanted to justify himself, but Jesus made it clear that he had not loved his neighbor as he loved himself, and so he had not perfectly loved God.
And the more we look in judgment upon others and turn our backs on them, the more pride we feel because of how good we are, the more the Law takes us to task and treats us roughly. Unless you have perfectly loved God with your heart, soul, strength, and mind, unless you have perfectly loved your neighbor as yourself, you have nothing to boast about. The inspired letter to the Galatians states it clearly, “You are severed from Christ, you who would be justified by the law; you have fallen away from grace” (5:4).
But you, dear friends in Christ, have not fallen away from grace. Even though you have failed your neighbors by the harm you have done and by the help you have not done, Jesus has not failed you. He saw you wounded by your own sin, helpless, dying. And He came to join Himself to you and make your situation His situation.
Looking upon you with compassion, He said, “I will take the punishment of the Law that you deserve. I will be condemned and beaten in your place. I will bear your wounds. I will be forsaken by everyone who passes by. I will be robbed of My life.” And because He suffered and died for you, the filth of your sins is washed away. Your wounds are treated. You are wrapped in His righteousness. And for your ongoing spiritual health and strength, He calls you to the inn of His Church when you hear His Word of grace and kneel before Him at His altar to receive the best medicine there is—His holy body and blood “given and shed for you.”
You are not justified before God because of anything you have done, and you are not condemned because of what you have failed to do or done wrongly. You are justified—declared righteous and innocent in God’s sight—because of what Jesus has done on your behalf. Your neighbor does need your love and care and compassion. But you do not do these things to earn something from God or to receive recognition and glory from the world. You do these things because Jesus did them for you. “We love because he first loved us” (1Jo. 4:19).
With your eyes on Jesus, you know what love looks like. He has let you in on the secret and inspires it in you. He says to you just as He said to His disciples, “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see! For I tell you that many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it.” You see Jesus’ love for you in the Samaritan’s love for the dying Jewish man, and so you see how to love your neighbor. Jesus gave all He had to save you. He put you first. He suffered for you and sacrificed Himself for your eternal good. Blessed are you, and Blessed Are All Whom Jesus Justifies.
Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost; as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, forevermore. Amen.
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(picture from “Parable of the Good Samaritan” by Jan Wijnants, 1632-1684)