You Don’t Have to Do Anything

Luke 10:25-37    Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” He answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.” But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’ Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”

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Years ago when I had a house full of children from the age of ten down to infancy, I discovered an author at my public library who spoke to me with words of hope:  how to simplify your life.  Elaine St. James wrote these little books – really little, about eight inches square.  “Simplify Your Life: 100 Ways to Slow Down and Enjoy the Things that Really Matter” and “Inner Simplicity: 100 Ways to Regain Peace and Nourish Your Soul.”  And there are others.  Books on simplifying your work life, simplifying Christmas, simplifying life with children.  I pulled them off the shelves like a hungry person who had found food.  She promised me peace.   I wanted peace.  I hoped and believed that it was truly possible to find peace through her 100 ways.

I don’t know if people read Elaine St. James anymore.  Now there is Marie Kondo with “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up.”  This book has been a runaway bestseller.  Marie Kondo has grown from a little girl who loved organizing her possessions to an international icon, a guru for women, mostly, who crave this life-changing magic she is offering.  She speaks of the joy that can be found by following her method.  Who doesn’t want joy?  They buy the book eager to learn what they have to do to obtain this joy.

We all want joy.  We all want peace.  We all want life in all its abundance.  We just need to know what we have to do to get it.

The lawyer who approached Jesus was the same.  He wanted to know, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”  Luke says it was a test, although I am not sure exactly what kind of test it was.  Was the lawyer testing Jesus’ knowledge of the law?  Quite possibly.  Or was it more personal?  Was he testing Jesus ability to offer him something he desired, craved, and maybe even despaired of finding.  He knew the law, yet he was still seeking, chasing after something just out of reach: the peace and contentment of knowing eternal life. 

What must I do to inherit eternal life? 

It is a question that any of us might ask many times in our lives, because it is a desire we all share in common. Death is the enemy, but the promise of life beyond this life is the hope we cherish.  What must we do to ensure we receive it?  It is an important question.

It is a question Jesus doesn’t answer.  And if he did, the answer would be: You don’t have to do anything.

You don’t have to do anything to receive eternal life.  There is no action, no practice you can undertake, no skill you can acquire to obtain eternal life for yourself, or for anyone else.  This is a very simple, uncomplicated message I have for you today.  What do you have to do to inherit eternal life?  Nothing.

And yet that is still so hard for us to believe.  You might doubt that I really mean what I am saying, because most weeks it sounds as though I am saying something entirely different.  Most sermons seem to be packed full of instructions and lists of things to do to get in God’s graces, to live up to God’s expectations.  Many sermons feel like self-help seminars, which we come to with the fervent hope that we can be made better, that we can finally find the peace and joy and fullness of life we so desire. 

It doesn’t sound like a trustworthy answer, to say that you don’t have to do anything.  Because when the lawyer asks the question Jesus directs him toward the law.  What do you read in the law?  The law is full of all kinds of things we must do and other things we must not do.  The lawyer knows it well enough to be able to summarize all 613 commandments of the law very concisely: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself. 

And this is where it strikes me that if he was testing Jesus’ knowledge of the law, he was doing a lousy job.  Because he gave him the answer.  This is what makes me think that there might be something deeper, more personal going on with this man.  He knows what he has been taught to do.  He knows the answer.  And yet it remains a question for him.

As Christians we all learned the Ten Commandments, many of us had to memorize them as children.  And we know that our efforts to obey all of them all the time will fail.  Perfection will elude us.  When we reduce the law to the two greatest commandments – love God and love your neighbor – we might be tricked into thinking this is easier.  It is simpler, yes.  But it is not easier.

It turns out that love is a very hard thing to do.  It is so easy to say, and yet so hard in the ways that really matter. 

The books of the Hebrew scriptures contained the 613 written laws God handed down to Israel through Moses, but for Israel, this was only the beginning.  Interpreting the law is a never-ending task.  In addition to the written law, there is the oral law, the work of the Pharisees and later the Rabbis to interpret the law for every possible occasion.  It is compiled in the Talmud.  But even the interpretation of the law is subject to interpretation.  Times change, problems change, needs change.  And quite possibly the answer to the question, what must I do to inherit eternal life, also changes. 

This is an urgent question for the lawyer, and it is, at times, an urgent question for us.  And yet I say to you the answer to the question is this:  You don’t have to do anything.

I have known some good people who pondered this question deeply – and uneasily.  A man who was nearing the end of his life – a good man, a lifelong active church member – confessed that he was afraid he had not done enough to inherit eternal life.

You don’t even have to be on your deathbed to have such thoughts, to wonder, as you get older and less physically able: how can I be worthy of eternal life if I can no longer perform any good deeds?   

Somehow we are encouraged to believe that we must earn our salvation, and yet there is nothing more hopeless than trying to earn your salvation.  The truth that is somehow so hard to hear is that you don’t have to do anything to inherit eternal life.

You don’t have to prepare snacks for coffee hour, teach Sunday school, or clean up the church yard.  You don’t have to sing in the choir, serve as an usher, or sit with the babies in the nursery.  You don’t have to donate to the food pantry or contribute to One Great Hour of Sharing.  You don’t have to do anything to inherit eternal life.  There is nothing you can do that would earn your eternal life.

That is what Jesus could have said to the lawyer.  But, instead, he told a story – a story in which the least likely character was the hero, the most despised man was the only one who showed compassion.  And the moral of the story was not that this man considered so loathsome had earned his salvation.  Rather, the point of the story was that living in obedience to the law of God demands that you love the unlovable.  Perfectly.  And when you are able to do that, then we can talk about whether you have earned your salvation.

As Presbyterian Christians, we know that it is only by God’s grace that we are redeemed.  It’s one of the first things we learn in our catechisms: From the Westminster Catechism we learn justification is God’s free gift, wherein our sins are forgiven and we are accepted as righteous in God’s sight.  We receive this wonderful gift by faith alone.  And from our Heidelberg Catechism, we know that through our redemption we are renewed – transformed and made new by the power of the Holy Spirit. 

It is this gift, alone, that even makes it possible for us to grow in grace and fulfill our purpose in life: to glorify God and enjoy God forever.  You can’t justify yourself.  Only by the power and goodness of God do we live.

Thanks be to God.