The Good Samaritan: A frightening, comforting lesson in morality

Sermon for Trinity 13

Leviticus 18:1-5  +  Galatians 3:15-22  +  Luke 10:23-37

We have before us today in the Gospel a lesson in morality. Now, what is morality? It comes from the Latin word for “custom.” It means to be accustomed to pursuing virtue and fleeing from vice. As for virtue, as St. Augustine once said, “Virtue is nothing but to love that which is lovable.” There are many virtues that God has written right into the fabric of human nature: Prudence, Temperance, Fortitude and Justice have been called the “cardinal virtues.” Add to those Faith, Hope, and Charity, and you have the seven categories of virtue that people have named. But you could also name honesty, integrity, compassion, patience, kindness, fairness, faithfulness, selflessness, diligence, and so on. Those things are lovable. And everyone knows it, including all the religions of the world, both ancient and modern.

That’s why people imagine that Christianity, too, is primarily a path to morality—fixing bad behavior, teaching people how to behave rightly, morally, instilling virtue and removing vice. That’s why practically everyone misinterprets Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan. It is a lesson in morality. But the point of it is far more frightening—and far more comforting!—than anyone would guess.

Our Gospel begins with Jesus overflowing with joy as His disciples told Him of all the people who were hearing and believing His Gospel. Blessed are the eyes which see the things you see; for I tell you that many prophets and kings have desired to see what you see, and have not seen it, and to hear what you hear, and have not heard it. Hmm. This sounds like something out of the ordinary, doesn’t it?, this Gospel that Jesus was preaching. People had been hearing for thousands of years about virtue and morality. God had inscribed it into His holy Law back at the time of Moses, and even the pagans knew about it. What Jesus was preaching was not morality. It was something else.

But not everyone grasped that, even at that time. That lawyer stood up, a man well-trained in the Law of Moses. He had spent his life studying the moral law that Moses had laid down. What new thing could Jesus possibly be teaching, when perfect morality had already been set down in the Law?

Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life? And Jesus replied, “What is written in the law? What is your reading of it?” So he answered and said, “ ‘You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind,’ and ‘your neighbor as yourself.’ ” And He said to him, “You have answered rightly; do this and you will live.”

See, nothing new there! Just do what the Law has always told you to do. Love the LORD with all your heart, and love your neighbor as yourself. That is the perfect summary of morality, and the Ten Commandments outline some of the details of what that is supposed to look like in practice.

Just do what the law has always told you to do. Be the moral person God commands you to be. Do the moral things God commands you to do. And avoid all vice and immorality.

That’s easier said than done, and the lawyer knew it. He was at least that honest. Maybe there’s a way around the command? A way to soften it a little? Maybe if I just focus on my family, I can be the good, selfless, honorable person the law demands that I be? But he, wanting to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

The parable of the Good Samaritan is Jesus’ extended answer to that question. Kind of a, here, let Me show you what morality looks like when it comes to your fellow man.

A man was robbed, beaten, and left for dead by some obviously immoral bandits. They’re obviously lawbreakers. But that wasn’t Jesus’ point. A priest came by and became a neighbor—someone close by—and should have behaved like a moral neighbor should, should have had compassion and helped the poor man, but didn’t. That was immoral on his part. A Levite, someone who also served in the Temple of God, came by and did the same thing. More immorality. Then along came the Samaritan, a half-breed between Jew and Gentile—people who normally hated the Jews, who hated them right back. But not this one. No hatred. Only care, compassion, commitment to helping. He goes above and beyond. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine; and he set him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. On the next day, when he departed, he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said to him, ‘Take care of him; and whatever more you spend, when I come again, I will repay you.

You hear this story, and I’d say the vast majority of people in the world would say, that Samaritan was truly a good man. He did the moral thing. And our hearts grows warm for a moment and a smile spreads across our face as we ponder his kindness. “Isn’t it wonderful that there are such people in this world?”

That is, until we realize what the parable was for. It was to answer the lawyer’s first question. “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus’ response is, “Go and do likewise.” Really? This is the answer to the question? I have to be that person? And not just on one occasion, and not just toward my family and friends and loved ones, but every time I come across a person who needs my help? And not begrudgingly, but honestly and earnestly, with that kind of love?

That’s not who I am, even on my best day. I get frustrated with my own family members, with the people I love more than anyone else on earth. Don’t you? I find that, sometimes, it’s the people close to me with whom I grow frustrated, impatient, who are bothering me, whom I don’t always want to help, and sometimes don’t help.

Now, maybe you do a better job than I do at leading a moral life. Some people are kinder than others, fairer than others, more honest than others. Some people go down to the soup kitchen to lend a hand. That’s great work.

But it won’t save you. Before God’s Law, even the best of you, the best of us, are not good people, are not moral people. And for as much as we’d like to think that Christianity is here to make us into more moral people, it isn’t. It’s here, first of all, to show you that you can’t be moral enough to inherit eternal life. That’s the frightening lesson of the Good Samaritan. It’s really a terrifying story.

So, devastated—hopefully! —by Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan, which is really nothing but an explanation of the Law of Moses, we turn to Jesus’ other message, that “new” teaching that was drawing masses of people into the kingdom of heaven, which the eyes of Jesus’ disciples were blessed to see and their ears were blessed to hear.

Eternal life is not sold for a price; God’s favor is not earned by your virtuous behavior. Pursuing virtue will not get you one step closer to heaven, and if all you have to show for yourself is a long record of immorality, there is still hope.

Because, even though the Law of God has cut you down to shreds, and the teachers of the Law—the priests and Levites and moral teachers of all kinds—have left you for dead, a Good Samaritan has come along, true God and true Man, the Lord Jesus Christ. He should rightfully hate you, but He doesn’t. He saw you in your misery and took pity on you. He gave His own life on the cross for your immorality and purchased eternal life for you with His blood. And now He has come along and washed your wounds in Holy Baptism and has entrusted you to the ongoing care of His holy Church, which is not here to turn you into the kind of moral person who deserves God’s favor, but which is here to keep tending to your immorality with the forgiveness of sins until Christ returns. As we have said often, the Christian Church is not a resort for the healthy, but a hospital for the sick.

This is the “foolishness of the cross.” This is the stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, that Christ Jesus did not come to teach virtue, but to be the One who will save the wicked through faith in His virtue.

Now, that doesn’t mean you should remain immoral people or that you shouldn’t pursue virtue. God’s will for you hasn’t changed. He still commands moral behavior of His dear Christians, as outlined in the Ten Commandments, and He still condemns immorality. And He does command you to “Go and do likewise,” to do as the Samaritan did. But His will is not to save you by your obedience. His will is to save those who have been condemned by His Law by calling you to repent and trust in Christ Jesus. And His promise is to forgive you your sins through faith in His promise of free salvation.

This is what made the eyes and ears of Jesus’ disciples blessed. This was what St. Paul was explaining in today’s Epistle. The Law of Moses came after the free promise was made to Abraham. And that promise, formally sealed in the covenant God made with Abraham and His Seed, which is Christ, cannot be changed or annulled by the Law. Salvation is through faith alone. It has always been that way.

So, no, Christianity is not primarily a path to morality or a means to an end of virtuous behavior. If Christ Jesus is, before all else, a teacher of morality, then He is essentially no different than any other religious leader who ever lived and you might as well follow one of them. No, Christianity is far different from any other religion, and Christ is far different than every other teacher. Give thanks to God that He sent this truly Good Samaritan to show you mercy and charity in your wretched state of immorality. And with confidence in the free forgiveness of sins that is yours through faith in Christ Jesus, let the healing of your behavior and your morals also begin and continue until God Himself perfects it in eternal life. Amen.