by the Rev. Tad de Bordenave

The dialogue of Jesus and the lawyer came to an end with the telling of the Good Samaritan. It began with lawyer’s the opening question: What must I do to inherit eternal life? That question determined the course of the conversation. From then on, Jesus directed the conversation to help the man see what he could not see.

With the lawyer’s second question, “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus saw the real issue. “Please give me the assurance that the right things I am doing will grant me eternal life.” This was a man who was keeping a check list. A good check list, mind you, but mainly, a passport that would hold a place for what God gives to good people.

That passport served another and more important purpose: to keep a distance between him and God, a place to hide from God.

That separation was essential to the lawyer. He had no dealings with the God on the other side of the passport. All he knew was to show off his deeds, hold up his check list.  He knew nothing of the God beyond his passport  — nothing of his forgiveness, of hope for mercy, of a God whose inclination was to love and lift up. In the ignorance of that God, all the lawyer could do was to hope Jesus would leave him with a list of neighbors that would be manageable for his checklist.

And so the parable. It was a stunner. First, the representatives of the best of Judaism, priest and Levite, gave no compassion at all. These superior models of religious practices chose to ignore the man in distress. Then the one who did stop, who saw and showed compassion, came from one of the most maligned groups to Jews – a Samaritan. And that meant that God favored him. One more outrageous thing to swallow. And the man in the ditch – why bother with him? What was there about him that would cause anyone to stop and help. He was on his way out. What did he show to make the Samaritan stop? Nothing.

If the pieces were falling together as Jesus intended, then the lawyer faced some unsettling realities. His passport didn’t look so impressive. After all, never would he consider as neighbor the man in the ditch. Never part with money for the expenses the bum needed. Never consider a Samaritan good in any circumstance.  And never think that compassion was part of God’s heart.

But then, with a little rearrangement of the parable, new things emerged. What if he, the lawyer, were the man in the ditch? Suddenly he realized that he too was as undeserving of kindness as the man was. Then lying there and in dire need, who should come and stop but God himself. Did God really have that love in his heart? He had had no experience of that for himself. Wasn’t that why he used the passport as a shield from the God who was on the other side? And with God kept at a distance, how would the lawyer have any clue about him? But now he saw not only himself in the ditch but God looking down at him with mercy and love. Not because he was deserving but simply because extending mercy was what God did.

As the conversation went on, we see Jesus not just giving the right answer to the lawyer but leading him into the sunshine, the radiance, of God. Going back to his opening question, the lawyer now saw it all differently. His answer was not what to do, as his check list, but rather how to look for heart that shows love. The eternal life he wanted had been a seat in a stadium but was now coming into the brilliance of God’s love, his very radiance.

Jesus had anticipated what the lawyer would finally see. New realities came into view: He did not have the compassion God looked for; that degree of love just did not lie within him. He knew he did not deserve God’s kindness and could not earn it. If he was to live in the presence of God, he must find another way. That, he found, was the way of repentance for his lousy heart, the way of trust mercy implanted in the heart of the God he had hidden from.

The lesson was hard for this man of pride. He could not go to God on his merits, he could not even find God’s mercy on his own. But he did find God seeking him and bringing more than eternal life, bringing him into the glorious majesty of God. And there he found joy and peace.

Now for the conclusion: If the lawyer could speak to us after what he learned, I believe he might have quoted this prayer from the third chapter of Ephesians: