One of them, a lawyer: I had sought to walk in the way of perfection for all of my life. At the beginning of that day, I was certain of what righteousness consisted. My years of prayer and study, studying both the Law and traditions of our people, had produced a quiet confidence out of which I could teach others and converse with the great men who loved the Law of our God. My life of purity made me determined not to ‘set before my eyes anything that is worthless.’[1] I thought then that if only our people would make atonement for our sins, live according to God’s Law and keep to our traditions, God would favour us again and we would not live under the rule of pagan oppressors.
Jesus had entered Jerusalem
The problem which concerned my colleagues, teachers of the law who practised ritual purity and followed the faith perfectly, was now close to home. Jesus of Nazareth, wandering prophet-rabbi, had entered Jerusalem and not entered as any man might but entered the city in the manner of the Messiah, as the people clearly understood. For those of us, trying to quietly maintain our faith under foreign rule, it was an act of provocation. For us, also, his teaching was an even greater provocation.
His message was clear. His parables were a clear attack against the teachers and authorities of our faith. The familiar pedagogy of the story was shocking in this context. No one could mistake the message; the image of the wedding feast and the fate of those who refused the invitation or were unprepared for the feast was not subtle. My colleagues heard his criticism and hastily arranged a meeting; great minds gathered together.
We set up a student, Samuel, to trap him over the tricky question of paying taxes to Caesar. We could not fault the reply, though. Then the Sadducees too were confounded with the reply to their ridiculous trick question about a widow dutifully marrying and losing all her husband’s brothers.
We made a plan. We would lead Jesus into the depths of the mystery: the Law of the Lord. We would trap him quite simply with the ongoing question about the greater and the lesser in God’s law. No scholar could give a perfect answer to such a question. Someone would be offended. The law of the Lord is perfect, but it is also complex, and our schools of study had each drawn from different elements, adding swathes of extra teachings and conditions over successive generations. Opinions changed almost daily, and new voices came to the fore.
I had a simple question to ask
The question
I stood before him that day and asked,
“Teacher, which is the great commandment in the Law?”
I waited, noting how still the crowd was and how clearly he saw the truth, there was no sign of stress. He looked into my eyes.
The reply
He spoke clearly, as if he were speaking to me alone, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment.”
Yes, of course, I would not have expected any other answer – heart, soul, mind must all be directed towards, and devoted to, the Lord God,
… but then he continued,
“And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbour as yourself.”
I did not expect these two elements of the law to be so bound together. The thought dropped from my head into my heart and I began to understand. The heart and spirit of the law, the motive in the practice of our faith, all of it was encompassed in this double commandment, the second part of flowing from the first.
Then he concluded,
“On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.”
At that point I turned around to follow the Lord.
[1] Psalm 101:3
Loved it. Thank you