In Luke 10, we meet a self-righteous lawyer who wanted to put Jesus to the test and catch Him in His words by laying what he thought was a daunting puzzle of masterful rhetoric. “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” Of course, the answer to that question is nothing; there is nothing that he can do to inherit eternal life. Eternal life is all gift, accomplished only by the salvific work of Jesus. But Jesus answers his question directly. If you ask a law-oriented question, you will get a law-oriented answer: “[Jesus] said to him, “‘What is written in the Law? How do you read it?’ And 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 answered correctly; do this, and you will live.’” As an aside, there is a promise of salvation in the Law; the problem is that it’s a conditional promise. What must I do to inherit eternal life? Do it all. Keep God’s Law perfectly and completely and fully, on your own, from the smallest to the greatest, every time, without fail, inside and out. If you want the salvation ball in your court, that’s what you have to do. 

Now, cut to the heart: Knowing that he hasn’t loved God with all his heart, soul, strength, and mind, nor his neighbor as himself, the lawyer tries to wiggle away from the Law’s accusing finger. “And who is my neighbor?” he asks with what may be a timid voice. What follows, of course, is what is known as the Parable of the Good Samaritan. 

In these responses, Jesus isn’t just wriggling out of a trap; He is also teaching and catechizing.  In the two great commandments, as Jesus teaches another lawyer in Matthew 22, our love goes two ways: vertically toward God and horizontally toward our neighbor. The First Table of the Ten Commandments (Commandments 1-3) orients our love toward God, and the Second Table of the Law (Commandments 4-10) orients our love toward our neighbor. Thus, the Commandments set our lives in a cruciform shape: a vertical love toward God and a horizontal love for the neighbor. 

“And who is my neighbor?” asks the lawyer. 

Though the lawyer may have been asking it as a way to justify himself, the question, “Who is my neighbor?” gets to the heart of the doctrine of vocation. The word “vocation” comes from the Latin word vocatio, which means “calling.” You may immediately think of vocation as what you do for a living, what you do to earn money. Certainly that is included, but the doctrine of vocation goes broader and wider. Simply put, vocation consists of all the stations, relationships, and responsibilities into which God has called and placed you. You put on different vocation hats as you go through your day, as you interact with differing neighbors God has put before you to love. 

The doctrine of vocation reveals how God serves our neighbors through ordinary people like you. We’re called to love our neighbor. Vocation gives shape to the love we have for our neighbor. It reveals the neighbors whom God has entrusted to our care and the ways He calls us to serve them. Vocation defines both our good works and the neighbors for whom those good works are intended.

This is the beautiful thing about vocation: it most often takes place in the mundane things of life, but God delights in the good works that seem so mundane to us. When we think of good works, we often think of the big things: feeding thousands, organizing a benefit, or rescuing orphans from a fire. To be sure, these are all good works when done in faith, but good works also include: a mother changing her baby’s diaper, a teacher patiently instructing her students, a father teaching the faith to his children. This is why the sheep to Jesus’ right are confused and answer Him, “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you as a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?” The King answers, “Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.” The sheep were simply going about their vocations as fathers and mothers and children, and the like. 

Any good done in faith in Christ is a good work before God. To be sure, even our good works are tainted with sin. Maybe it is 2:00 a.m., and the mother is not feeling much affection as she changes the diaper; maybe the teacher is weary and feels no satisfaction in her work; maybe the father is exhausted and skips the hymn in family devotions. We are sinners, and so even our good works are mixed with weakness and sin. Yet for the sake of Christ, God receives them as good—not because they’re pure in themselves, but because Christ has cleansed them with His blood.

This is why, in the Fifth Chief Part of the Small Catechism, Luther grounds our repentance in our vocations. “Which are these?” That is, from the previous questions, which are these sins which we know and feel in our hearts? Answer: “Consider your place in life according to the Ten Commandments: Are you a father, mother, son, daughter, husband, wife, or worker…” Luther grounds the examination of our hearts in our vocations and how we have failed in them. 

God ordinarily places us into three great spheres of life—the Church, the household, and the state. These spheres are often called the Three Estates. In the coming months we will examine each of them in turn and consider how God works through them for the good of our neighbors.

But for this article, the doctrine of vocation answers the question, “Who is my neighbor?” Children are neighbors to the mother and father. Wives are neighbors to husbands. Congregation members are neighbors to pastors. Citizens are neighbors to those who rule. The Lord places us in many and various stations in life to carry out these vocations, in love, for our neighbor, often carrying out many vocations every day. 

And as we sin, as we often muddle through these vocations, we are neighbors to Christ. He is the Samaritan, the one rejected by the world, who found us on the side of the road dead in sin. He paid, with His blood and life, everything required for our eternal care. Jesus is our neighbor who, out of love, came not to be served but to serve and to give His life as a ransom for many (Matthew 20:28).

In the next three months, we will continue the conversation about vocation. May the Lord grant that we carry out our vocations in love toward our neighbor and faith toward God.