What must I do to inherit eternal life?

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

“What must I do to inherit eternal life?” The famous parable of the Good Samaritan is the answer given to this question posed by a lawyer, a professional scholar of the Mosaic Law. Being an expert of the Law, he should have known the answer to his own question. So this is not a genuine enquiry by someone seeking new learning but a rhetorical one made by someone who already knows (or thinks he knows) the answer – a kind of a smart-alecky question hoping to trap the teacher and put him on the spot, and in a way, show off one’s own intelligence and knowledge. The passage confirms this motive as it states that the lawyer posed this question because he wished to “disconcert” our Lord. He had come to the Lord not to learn but to trap Him. But again we are thankful for his question because IT IS indeed life’s greatest question.

“What must I do to inherit eternal life?” The question gets to the heart of Christianity. We are Christians not only because our religion provides us with moral guidelines. We are Christians not only because it’s nice and wise to belong to some organised religion or a community of like-minded people. We are Christians because we appreciate or at least should appreciate that the goal of living is not just living well, but “inheriting eternal life.” If you haven’t thought about, or asked this question before, you should. It should be the principal guiding question of your life.

To this question our Lord replies with a question of His own, “What is written in the Law?” - testing his interlocutor’s knowledge of Scripture. Let’s be clear that it is not the Lord who is being tested or on trial, but this lawyer. The lawyer quotes the two great commandments from the Pentateuch:  “Love God” (Deut 6: 3) and “Love your neighbour as yourself” (Lev 19, 18). Our Lord agrees, commending him, then commanding him to “Go and do the same yourself.” Doing so, however, is not in some one-off act but, as the tense of the verb implies, in a continual and habitual way. But the lawyer does not wish to be out-maneuvered and attempts to make a comeback by posing an additional question, “And who is my neighbour?” This is the end-game of legalism. For the lawyer, his legal training has allowed him to see how narrow categories and definitions can often be the means of wrangling your way out of an obligation. Our Lord Jesus Christ gives us the parable of the Good Samaritan to silence the lawyer once and for all.

There is a tendency to reduce the parable to just another example given to us on how to be a do-gooder. Most would read this as the foundation for any ethical humanitarian action. A common and not entirely incorrect way of examining and interpreting this parable is to see our Lord wishing the lawyer and all of us to be generous in loving and moving beyond minimalistic legal requirements – to go beyond the call of duty. The lawyer seems contented that he had the answer and perhaps may even be living out the answer of fulfilling the dictates of the Law. But was that enough? Well, the Lord’s telling of the parable reminds him, that the Law of Love cannot just be confined to such narrow legal parameters and categories. Our Lord expands the definition of “neighbour” to encompass more than what the lawyer and other Jews were prepared to accept. Our Lord’s understanding of neighbour is from the perspective of divine mercy (“can you be a neighbour to this person”) while the lawyer’s original question was focused on himself (“Who is my neighbor?”). Thus we are given the example of the Good Samaritan, who had no obligation to help but he did.

Though the above may be true, the traditional interpretation given to this parable takes us beyond this ethical question. In fact, they see this story as a parable of salvation history. The clue to its interpretation is found in the first question of the lawyer, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” The question shows that the lawyer saw his salvation as based on human actions and merits obtained by observance of the Mosaic Law. The question for him presupposes that eternal life can be inherited based on human actions; and that there is a set checklist of the sorts of actions that one must fulfill, in order to achieve this desired outcome. This is the heresy of Pelagianism condemned by the Church which basically reduces our religion to one where we can earn salvation by just doing good. Today, Pelagianism is an all pervasive ideology. Modern man prides himself as the architect of his own destiny and is deluded into believing that he can create his own earthly utopia, a failed project as can be seen in the political and economic disasters wrought by National Socialism (Nazism) and communism. 

But the truth of the matter is that we cannot save ourselves. We do not have the resources to obtain eternal life. No amount of human effort or power could even come close to gaining salvation. We do not have a rocket ship powerful enough to fly to heaven. We have no ladder tall enough to climb there. We can never hope to “inherit eternal life” without a Saviour. And this is what our faith professes - that if we are to inherit eternal life at all, it is only by way of the freely-given mercy of God, through the work and action of the Son of God who became man, our Saviour and Redeemer who redeemed us through the sacrifice of the cross and opened the gates of eternal salvation to us. Did we earn this? Certainly not. Keeping the commandments of God, offering up acts of service to a loved one, are only expressions of our accepting that gift. Not ways to earn it.

So, therefore the parable of the Good Samaritan is not just merely an exemplary story of doing good beyond the call of duty, it is a summary of salvation history, beginning with the Fall of Adam and continuing through the founding of the Church even until the Second Coming of our Saviour and the Day of Judgment. The Good Samaritan was no mere hypothetical straw man. Jesus Christ is the Good Samaritan. Just like the Samaritan in the eyes of the Jews, our Lord was hated, and yet He came to us and found us in our hopeless condition and wounded by the diabolical powers of sin. Rather than judgment, He showed us mercy. Yes, it is Jesus Christ who enters this world in mercy and love, to bring healing and to carry us to the Church (“the inn”) and His Father’s house; healing our wounds through His precious blood and by paying the price for our redemption through His death, and lifting us to the Father in His resurrection, and promising to return one day to make good what is still lacking in us.

So, the next time you encounter this parable, remember that this beautiful story is about more than caring for the poor or doing good. It is also about the absolute need for grace. It is about us needing a Saviour. Only with tons of grace and mercy do we even stand a chance in coming close to loving God and neighbour. Only God can really give God, the love He deserves. Only God can really love our neighbour as they ought to be loved. That is why we have to die to our self and allow Jesus Christ to live His life in us. He does this through the sacramental grace that flows through the Church. Those who faithfully attend Mass and regularly receive communion worthily, those who confess their sins frequently and fruitfully receive the graces of that sacrament, those who faithfully and thoughtfully meditate on God’s Word, begin to experience a transformation that enables them to love. The Church is the “inn” where wounds are healed, the weak are made strong, and the sick recover. Those who find comfort and solace within, will receive a new heart and a new mind, the heart and mind of Christ. It is here that they begin to truly love God above all things and their neighbour as their very self. And it is not they who do it. Let us never forget this. It is Christ who does it in them.