Luke 10:25-37
It is ever the way of man to want to be accredited for what he thinks himself to be. He would justify himself. And to do this, he would have the way of life to accommodate his convenience. He goes about to establish his own righteousness, not submitting himself to the righteousness of God; for the blessed thing is, God has a righteousness to render to man (Job 33:26).
Yes, "grace reign [s] through righteousness unto eternal life by Jesus Christ our Lord."
How honoring to God, for man weighed is found wanting. "There is none righteous,... there is none that seeketh after God.... There is none that doeth good, no, not one." What a sweeping verdict! Who can gainsay it, when this "is written" as God's own summing up?
In Luke 10:25-37, we have man's valuation of himself rebuked, but oh, after the divine way, by showing the riches of grace meeting the reality of the need.
A certain lawyer, doubtless filled with himself, and thinking to tempt Christ, said, "Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?" What should he do? The law had promised life to as many as continued doing all its requirements. It was holy, just, and good, asking nothing from man but what was right and equitable. It contained two tables-one in regard to God, the other in regard to man- and each must be lived up to the full standard; God, with all the heart and soul and strength; man, our neighbor, as ourselves. How simple the announcement! But, how about obedience to it? The lawyer evidently had d little conscience as to loving God, and, no doubt, thought that his untested feelings toward God would pass for obedience. Indeed, many are unconscious of the deep hatred toward God that is in them, while the very low estimate they form of what is due to Him is the very result and token of it.
Thus he passed to the second part of the commandments. And he, willing to justify himself, said, "And who is my neighbor?" Strange question! If he has not yet known his neighbor, what then of his state? If he has, how little he was acting upon this command, by tempting Jesus. There is in the stupid state of man's conscience a thought that somehow he does obey this. What do you say? If your neighbor's house were burning, or if he is evil spoken of, do you feel it as much as if it were yourself? Or, if he has lost money, is it quite so bad to you as if you had lost yours? But suppose he were one in an inferior circle to yours, or your enemy, would you class him as your neighbor? Were he degraded to the lowest place, would it be the same trial to you as though you were there? Men make grades and nationalities, and caste, and by these avoid the force of such a law. Their neighbor is one of their own rank, of whom they can receive again. Thus they make void the law of God.
Man, indeed, needs the act of a neighbor—one to love him where he is—for he is lost, guilty, and ruined by sin. Such is his real condition; and, withal, he is "without strength." Will anyone die for him? for death is what his condition and guilt incur. For a good man some would even dare to die. But does any care enough for his fellow man to take him out of his place of wrath and sin, by taking his place? Alas, here man was powerless; this was what the law could not do.
There was One only that sold all that He had and gave to the poor, that gave up His place in glory, emptied Himself, and then gave up all that He had, as an obedient one, always pleasing the Father, and came to the cross to be forsaken of God, for the sake of man who was His enemy. Was not that loving His neighbor as Himself?
So, when the question was asked, "Who is my neighbor?" our Lord gave this striking story of how a neighbor is to be traced and recognized.
Here was a poor man, robbed, stripped, and left half dead. The priest and the Levite were not the ones who acted as neighbors. They were not "journeying," but only "by chance" going that way. All the ritual and the service under the law came in only "by the way"—came where man was, to be sure, but they could only look on him. If he were able to present himself before God as a worshiper, they might use their office; but out in the gutter, bruised and broken and half dead, their offices could avail nothing. They loved not their neighbor as themselves, for they passed by on the other side.
One must be "journeying" to find the lost, even as the merchantman in Matthew 13 was seeking goodly pearls. It is the activity of love, prepared by having the "oil and wine" to meet the object of need. So Christ told the young man to sell all that he had and give to the poor. The poor must be sought. Man's way is to let him be a beggar first, and then dole out a pittance, because of his continued coming, or to sound a trumpet before him-to be seen of men.
But this One that journeyed was a Samaritan, cast into the place of reproach, and esteemed an enemy by the Jew, for the Jews would have no dealings with the Samaritans. So Christ was the hated One, coming to do good to those who despitefully treated Him. But He came this way and "saw" us in the condition in which Satan had left us. And here we have a lovely series of actions, all on His part, none on his who fell among thieves. He saw, had compassion, went to him, bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, set him on His own beast, brought him to an inn, and took care of him, being chargeable for his entire maintenance while there, and finally gave intimation of a speedy return by leaving two days' support, with the possibility of a little tarrying beyond it! How thoroughly the case is met, and with what thoughtfulness, even to the wants of the heart. Ah! we see easily that this is none other than our heavenly Kinsman, our neighbor who "forasmuch" as we were "partakers of flesh and blood,... likewise took part of the same; that through death He might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil; and deliver them, who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage." "For He does not indeed take hold of angels by the hand, but He takes hold of the seed of Abraham" (J.N.D. Trans.).
Here was life and healing and joy, first of all, in the oil and wine. And it is blessed to see in type in the wine, that which makes glad the heart of God and man. Man, in his thought of remedy, goes no further than what he fancies will suit man, leaving God's joy out of the case. He would love his neighbor without loving God first, which is the divine order and manner. Yes, I can know that in being met in grace in Christ, my salvation gives God delight, intensely satisfies everything in Him, giving me life before Him, according to His own perfect mind. Is not that something wonderful to begin with?
But in this perfect picture, there is something far richer than simply meeting us down in our own low place of misery. We are called upon not only to know that we have been so loved that He gave His Son for us, but we are invited to behold the manner of His love, that we should be called the sons of God too. In this beautiful story it is told by the taking the man off from his own feet, and putting him in the place from which the helper had descended. He has a new position altogether. Instructive, indeed, is this; for man's thought is to be helped to stand on his own feet, to be made a better man, to have a new start, it may be, but to go on, on his own ground, and to look back upon a life well spent. God's way is the "new man." "If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature [creation]." "In Christ" is the peculiar title given to our standing, and it is a reality; for as to ourselves as sinners, we are dead, crucified. And the power of our walk is reckoning ourselves dead, indeed, unto sin, but alive to God, through Jesus Christ our Lord; and thus sin shall not have dominion over us. He sets us "on his own beast." "I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave Himself for me." Gal. 2:20.
There is a sweet suggestion of stranger-ship in bringing him to an "inn." Where else could the Samaritan take him in the land of the Jews? He himself was a stranger there, and a pilgrim, journeying. It was not home. And so he gives this object of his care a like character, and only a temporary home, sufficient for a pilgrim. The moment we are blessed by Him who had compassion on us, and set in His own place, lifted off of our own standing, and set on heavenly places, "set... on his own beast," we take His relationship here of stranger-ship. We are no more of the world. And as such we are living on Him. It is His money that keeps us while we are at the inn. Are we at the inn? Do we know only the content of "having food and raiment [covering]," getting nothing from the world? The friendship of the world is enmity with God. Do we know we are, as such, then, shut up to Him for everything?
But then there is a secret of the heart told us still further. The man is valued by his neighbor, and so he is coming again. His care does not cease at the door of the inn, nor does he delegate the case to the keeper of the inn entirely. For how could he delegate the love that carried the oil and wine, and got off his beast, and bore this object of his love on it? No! He values the one he has helped, and he is coming again! And for the little while, he is to be kept by the one he has appointed.
Here the story ceases; but it might be asked, Would not the heart of the man at the inn be looking forward with joyful anticipation to see the face of him who is so thoughtful of all his need, and is coming again? We are not told of his thoughts or feelings at all, but only his need, and how thoroughly it was met, as in the 15th chapter the prodigal son does not tell out his joy, but the father does his! Oh, these divine touches, giving us to understand that we have everything in God, all understood, all met, fully and according to His own heart! "Go, and do thou likewise." What a lesson in philanthropy! Nothing short of bringing man into the new creation, and nothing else than the preaching of the cross of Christ.
Blessed be His name! He came not to make us better sons of Adam, but to take us out of all this—not to cultivate something in us, but to pour in the oil and wine. and lift us into His own place, and keep us entirely for Himself, and thus to take us to Himself. "This is my beloved, and this is my friend."
From Sound Words
Do not have your concert first, and tune your instrument afterward. Begin the day with the Word of God and prayer, and get first of all in harmony with Him!