Like you, I have often read this story within a story of the outcast Samaritan who demonstrated God's love when pious insiders would not. I have not as often noticed the bigger story in which this parable was given, of a powerful religious official struggling to define Jesus in his own terms. Just prior to this passage, this religious lawyer had witnessed the enthusiasm of 70 of Jesus' disciples returning from their mission to heal the sick and share the good news of God's love. He must have been appalled that such a large group of uneducated, common religious outsiders would have been trusted to do God's work. We don't know these 70 people in Jesus' large outer circle of followers, but we do know the dubious histories of the 12 apostles, so we can imagine how harshly this lawyer would have condemned their sinful situations. Yet, the lawyer stood nearby and heard story after story of miracles God had worked through these unworthy people. It must have been too much for him to take!

Right then, as these sinners were reveling in what God had done, he fought back with the strongest weapon he had against these surprisingly effective heretics—his superior knowledge of the Law of God. He confronted and challenged Jesus, and while most translations categorize his question using the word "test", the Greek word in this passage is the same word used when Satan tempted Jesus during his 40 days in the wilderness. This plainly was an attack.

However, the lawyer lost his argument in his first few words. The Greek text accurately translates into the phrase "what shall I do", but the meaning and self-centered intent is closer to "what must I accomplish." This lawyer intended to earn, the old-fashioned, honorable way, what has been squandered on these 70 unworthy simpletons.

But something happened when Jesus replied. This lawyer spoke with malice; Jesus responded with respect and love. Something in Jesus eyes reverberated with the Truth in the lawyer's mind. He could have answered Jesus' question of what was in the Law with an hour lecture on the commandments and the legal developments in support of that Law, but his answer, at least for the moment, spoke Truth—simple, pure, refined.

To pull him further towards Love and Grace, Jesus praised his answer and affirmed the letter of the Law, that if the lawyer would "do" these two commandments, perfectly, forever, then he would earn eternal life. The response Jesus hoped to get from the lawyer was to admit this wasn't humanly possible, and that admission would have opened the door to the lawyer's salvation.

But it wasn't to be. The lawyer shut the door on Truth, and fell back into legalism with his question on "neighbor." There were well-defined rules on exclusion and inclusion of "neighbor" for a good Jew, and the lawyer seized those human-created limitations to save his pride. In the story that followed, Jesus directly confronted those exclusions, forcing the lawyer to admit that one from the most despised race, the Samaritans, could be the one that demonstrates the Truth of the commandments. At that, the lawyer walked away, defeated, but apparently unchanged.

This story of the lawyer repeats itself daily. We want to act, and Jesus says "believe." We want to lead, and Jesus calls us to follow. We want to exercise our intellect, and Jesus tells us Truth is as simple as two commandments. We want answers, and the only true answer is Love. Sometimes, too, we walk away, defeated, but unchanged—but God always follows, going "before and behind" us as the psalmist wrote, to lead us back to the simple Truth.