The gentleman, an expert in Mosaic law, thought it was a clever question. He posed it, says Luke, to “tempt” the Lord Jesus. Whether there was any malice in his query, or whether it was asked to test what he had heard were Jesus’ unorthodox views, the lawyer did confront the Lord while He was surrounded by a crowd, no doubt to maximize the effect.
It seems the lawyer had heard that Rabbi Jesus was teaching a short route to heaven, not based on law-keeping but merely on believing. And so the question: “Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” (Lk. 10:25). The answer was not what he expected. But did you expect it?
Is this the gospel you believe? Is the way to eternal life by truly loving God with all your heart, mind and will and your neighbor as yourself? Is this what they preach in your assembly? Was this the message of Paul and of the early church? Surely there must be some mistake.
There was a mistake, but not in the answer of the Lord Jesus, of course. It was in the way the lawyer had framed his question. He was not asking how a person could receive eternal life, but how he could inherit it. A person has a legal right to an inheritance. Now only a fool—or a Pharisee—would imagine he could legally lay claim to eternal life, but this was the question asked and so this was the question answered. Do you want a right to it? Then it is merely a matter of perfection—in devotedness to God and in unstinting, unselfish service to mankind.
The lawyer had asked for it, and he got it. Now what? The place was crowded with his neighbors, who would be eager to provide him with endless practical opportunities to prove such selfless love! The lawyer now looked to the Man he had come to trap for a way out of the snare he had set with his own lips. “And who is my neighbor?” (v. 29), he asks in desperation.
A way of escape was provided by the gracious Savior in a parable full of pathos. Immediately we sense how high the stakes really are for the lawyer, as they are for lost souls everywhere. No longer is he well-dressed and prosperous but, as Jesus wants us to see every sinner, lying stripped of his temporary riches, wounded and dying by the roadside. He cannot save himself.
But surely all is not lost, for see, here comes a priest out of the holy city! There is no doubt the priest sees the victim where he lies. In fact, says Jesus, it is for this reason that the priest crossed the road! Yes, it was to get to the other side: “…and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side” (v. 31). The dying man despairs of any help—but wait! Here comes a Levite! Surely he will come to his aid. Again there is no question that the wounded man was seen. In fact, says Jesus, the Levite “came and looked on [inspected] him, and passed by on the other side” (v. 32).
We must not assume that Jesus is belittling the priesthood or the law by His comments. Rather He is appealing to the lawyer, the other listeners that day, and to us, to realize that humanity’s condition is so dire that religious observance and law-keeping cannot help; only a Savior can. And He has come to help, not by crossing the road, but by crossing the universe and stooping to where we lay. Then applying His healing balm, beginning us on our new journey, paying for our care, and promising to return, He shows us the way in true love for God and our neighbor. For He is both Savior and Sanctifier to those who put their trust in Him.