Preached at Clyro, 13th Sunday after Trinity, August 21, 1853.
“Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour to him that fell among the thieves? And he said, He that shewed mercy upon him. Then said Jesus, Go, and do thou likewise.”—St. Luke x. 36, 37.
I Spoke to you last week of the law that was written on stones, and of the law that is written on men’s hearts. There is more to be said about this matter yet. I think the Gospel to-day may make it clearer to us. Be sure that you remember who it is that causes the deafest ear to hear, and then you will ask Him that you may take in His own wonderful words.
On a certain day, St. Luke says, Jesus was telling His apostles that their eyes and ears were blessed, for that they saw things which prophets and kings had desired to see and had not seen, and to hear and had not heard.
The apostles, you know, were fishermen, poor men. What could it mean that they were better off than all the great men of their own country and of other countries who had lived before them? They must have been pondering this thought in their minds, when one of the learned men of the Jews came up to Jesus, and said, “Master! what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?” This lawyer thought he had kept the commandments; he did not remember that he had ever committed any great offence. But he supposed that was not enough to get eternal life; he must do something very special to please God, if he was to win such a prize as that. He had heard that Christ spoke of eternal life, and told His disciples that they might possess it. The lawyer asked Him, How can I get this life? What shall I do to please God, and obtain a reward which other men have not?
Our Lord did not answer him as he expected. He did not say, I know a secret which men in general do not know. I can tell you a new way of gaining this life which you have never heard. But He said, “What is written in the Law?” You are a lawyer; you are reading in the law continually. Has that told you nothing about eternal life? Then the lawyer bethought him of some words in the book of Deuteronomy, where it is written, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind: and thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.” He had often read these words, and it came into his mind that perhaps the answer to his question might be there. If he loved God and loved his neighbour, he might have the reward he wanted; all that any man could have. Our Lord told him he was right; if he did that, he would live.
But the lawyer was not satisfied; I suppose that he was never less satisfied.
For the thought struck him, Have I ever done this? Can I do this? If I had been bidden to bear some heavy burden; to torture myself in some strange way; even to kill myself, I could have done that. But when I am commanded to love—that is another thing altogether. Am I more loving because I have been told that it is right to be so? If I can only obtain eternal life at this price, shall I ever obtain it? I fancy these thoughts must have been in his mind first, but then came another. Was the law clear enough? It talked about his neighbour, but it did not say who his neighbour was. Luke says he was wishing to justify himself; not that anybody had found fault with him, but that some one was saying to him in his heart, ‘Learned lawyer as thou art, thou hast not kept the law;’ and he wanted to silence that voice, it tormented him.
But he had asked Jesus who is my neighbour? and he was to have his answer. The Lord told him a story. Again it was not what he supposed it would be. It was the story of a poor man—a Jew—who went down from the chief city of Judæa to Jericho. That was a very dangerous road, and the man fell among thieves. He was stripped of his raiment, and he was left half dead. A priest—the most holy man among the Jews—one who offered sacrifices to God for the people, one who blessed the people in God’s name, came travelling that way. The wounded man was there—one of his own countrymen—one of those for whom he presented prayers and sacrifices, and whom he was to bless. But the priest did not think this man was his neighbour. He went on and left him. Then came a Levite, one of the same tribe of the Jews with the priest. His business was especially to interpret the law to the people—that law which said, “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.” He looked at the wounded man, but he did not think that he was his neighbour; he passed by on the other side. Not long after a Samaritan rode by. The man was not his countryman; he was not one of his friends; he belonged to a people with whom his people had no dealings. Moreover, the Samaritan was not considered a holy or religious man by the Jews at all; quite the contrary: they thought him a man whom God abhorred; one who could not possibly have eternal life. But this Samaritan did look upon the wounded man as his neighbour; he stopped his journey to help him. He poured oil and wine into his wounds; he set him on his own beast; he took him to an inn, and bade the landlord take care of him; and he said, as he went away, that whatever more was spent upon the poor traveller, when he came again he would repay.
The lawyer had to listen to this tale. And then he was asked—
“Which now of these three—the priest, the Levite, or the Samaritan, was neighbour to him that fell among thieves?” He did not quite like to say the Samaritan; that would have been too hard a word for him to speak. But he said, “He that shewed mercy on him;” and then our Lord bade him go and do like the man whom he thought most meanly of, and whom he regarded as God’s enemy.
Now let us think of this story. You see that the priest and the Levite knew the law, which was written in a book, perfectly. They had nothing to learn about that. The words of it rose at once to their lips; they could confound any one who disputed it. And yet when they were called to fulfil this law—when their neighbour lay on the ground needing their help, they did not remember it at all. It was a long way from them. They were to love their neighbour as themselves, no doubt. But who was their neighbour? Not this poor creature, though he was a Jew, a son of Abraham, an heir of the covenant. They owed him nothing; they were going on their own errands; what was he to them? That is to say, they had the law of love upon tables, but they had it not written on their hearts. They were serving God for hire; they could do things which they thought would profit them, and avoid things which they thought would injure them, but they did nothing because they had God’s mind; they did nothing because they felt to men as He feels towards them.
But this Samaritan, though he had never studied the words of the law as they had; though he had not a hundredth part of the blessings which belonged to them; though he had probably a great many mistakes and confusions in his head, from which they were free, had this law of love in his heart, and showed that he had; God had written it there. And, therefore, he did not ask whether this poor half-dead traveller by the roadside belonged to his village, or his town, or his country, or his religion. He had nothing to do with any of these questions, supposing there was any one able to answer them. This was his neighbour, for he was a man. That was quite enough, and therefore he at once did what his neighbour wanted, what he would have had another do to him.
Here was a lesson for the lawyer; one which he might be learning day by day, which would last him as long as he remained on earth, and long after that. If he would keep God’s commandments, he must give up his pride as a lawyer, his pride as a Jew; he must become simply a man, just like this poor despised Samaritan. He must understand that God cared for men, and therefore he must care for them. He must ask God continually to show him how He cared for them, and to give to him that will, that spirit, which is in Himself, otherwise he would continue hard as the stones on which the commandments were written; otherwise he might have the highest reputation among men, and yet be abominable in the sight of God; otherwise he might be trying to win eternal life, and really be sinking deeper and deeper into death.
And now you will understand, I think, why the eyes and ears of the disciples, fishermen as they were, had a blessing which did not belong to all the great men and wise men that had been in the world before them.
Some of those great and wise men had had this law proclaimed to them in direct words, and had seen it written in letters. But that was not enough for them. They knew it was to be obeyed; they felt they could not obey it while it was outside of them. They wanted to have it in them, and to be governed by it altogether. But the more they wanted this, the more they felt how unlike their mind was to God’s mind; how short they fell of the love which was in Him, and which He wished to be in them. There were others who had never heard the law in words, or seen it in letters, yet God had written it in their hearts, and it had come forth in such acts as this of the good Samaritan; but they cried and sighed like the others over the selfishness which they found in themselves and in the world; they asked ‘When will God’s will be done on earth as it is in heaven? when will there be one to do it perfectly?’
Both, therefore, those to whom the law came outwardly, and those to whom it came only within, cried for the same person. They cried for a Son of God who should show them what God’s truth and charity is; they cried for a son of man who should show them how a man may be the perfect image of God; they cried for a king who should reign over their hearts, and make them like Himself. And now, says our Lord to His disciples, ‘Blessed are your eyes, for they see that Son of God who can shew you what the Father is; that Son of Man who perfectly delights to do His Father’s will, and to finish His work; that King who can govern you according to his pleasure. Blessed are your ears, for he is speaking to you, and commanding you.’ Long afterwards they will have recollected how the lawyer’s question, and our Lord’s parable, came in just when they had been considering what their blessing was. And they will have said to themselves, ‘Yes, truly, blessed are our eyes, for we have seen Him who has met with us all lying sick and wounded and half-dead; who has gone about healing men and restoring them without asking whether they were His friends or His enemies, but caring for them all as His brethren. Blessed are our eyes, for we have seen Him who was called a Samaritan by the Jews; whom they despised, because He mixed with publicans and sinners; whom they cast out as a blasphemer. Blessed are our ears, for we have heard Him speak God’s words; we have heard Him bid us go and do as He has done; and suffer as He has suffered. He has made us content to be called Samaritans, or worse names than that, if we can but pour oil and wine to the wounds of men that are perishing. Blessed are we, for we know what eternal life is now, since we have seen Jesus Christ, and have perceived what life there was in Him. This was the life which He received from the Father. This was the life which He has bestowed upon us. We are not to do something great, that we may obtain it. He gives it us without money and without price. But when He has given it us, when He has poured His own Spirit upon us, it works within us. It stirs us up to act as if men were our own neighbours, our brethren as well as His.’
This was what the disciples thought long afterwards; but they did not think these things—they scarcely knew what our Lord meant—they never got the blessing which He said was theirs till He was gone out of their sight. Then it was, when He had ascended on high, that they began to feel who had been with them, and who was with them still; then they began to preach to all men, ‘He is your king as well as ours, He is with you as well as with us; He has given us His Spirit, His life of love, He will give it to you.’ Then they began to treat all men—Jews, Samaritans, heathens—as brethren; then they could say boldly to their hearers, “Go, and do you likewise.” And, therefore, brethren, I say, you and I have all the blessing they had, and the only question is whether we will use it or cast it away. That is a very serious question indeed for us, one and all. It is a very serious one for us who are, like the Levites of the Jews, called to teach you about God’s laws, and, like the priests, to lead you in your prayers, and to present the perfect sacrifice of Christ for you to God, and to direct you unto the witnesses of His love, and to bless you in Christ’s name. For we may become just as tough and hardhearted as these Jewish priests and Levites became. If we are left to ourselves we shall be harder and colder than all people, because those who are in the habit of using holy words and doing holy acts, are more in danger of losing the sense of them, and becoming stupid and indifferent, as if they meant nothing, than those who are less familiar with them. It is a terrible fact but it is a fact. And, therefore, we must pray to God that He will not leave us to ourselves; that He will not let us sink down into hardness and carelessness about our fellow-creatures; that He will stir us up to think of them; that He will quicken us with His own Divine love; that He will make us true witnesses for Him by our acts as well as our words, and then what we say and what we do will not only be for ourselves, but for you. If we want to get eternal life for ourselves as the lawyer did, we shall not get it; if we are willing to receive it from Christ that others may share it with us, He will give it us abundantly, and then the very humblest of us will be able to go and do like the man whom we have heard of to-day. He was merely an ordinary person with very few advantages, as I have told you; people who thought highly of themselves thought meanly of him. But, because he had been taught to think of men as his brethren, the sons of one Father, he did an act which Christ owned. Christ said, ‘That was my act; God himself inspired it.’ And let each one of us say to himself, ‘Christ the Son of God died and rose again for me, and for all who dwell about me, for all my neighbours and kinsfolk, for every stranger that comes in my way, and for all sick and wounded people, and for all sinful people; Christ died and rose again for them, and He is their Lord and their brother as well as mine. And His will is to do them good; and His will is that we should work with Him to do them good, to raise them out of the dust, to heal their wounds, to give them rest. He commits them to us, and He will come again to see whether we have fulfilled our trust or not. And when He comes He will say—for He has told us so—“Inasmuch as ye did it to one of the least of my brethren, ye did it unto me.”’