Mark 10:17-30
17
As he was setting out on a journey, a man ran up and knelt before him, and
asked him, "Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" 18
Jesus said to him, "Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.
19 You know the commandments: "You shall not murder; You shall not commit
adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not
defraud; Honor your father and mother.' " 20 He said to him,
"Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth." 21 Jesus, looking at
him, loved him and said, "You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and
give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come,
follow me." 22 When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving,
for he had many possessions. 23 Then Jesus looked around and said to his
disciples, "How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the
kingdom of God!" 24 And the disciples were perplexed at these words. But
Jesus said to them again, "Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom
of God! 25 It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for
someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God." 26 They were greatly
astounded and said to one another, "Then who can be saved?" 27 Jesus
looked at them and said, "For mortals it is impossible, but not for God;
for God all things are possible." 28 Peter began to say to him,
"Look, we have left everything and followed you." 29 Jesus said,
"Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters
or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the
good news, 30 who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age—houses,
brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields, with persecutions—and
in the age to come eternal life. 31 But many who are
first will be last, and the last will be first."
At first sight, he does not seem
like one who’s lacking a thing: his tailored clothes are made from the finest fabrics
in the latest fashions; his shoes are highly polished without the first crease;
his hands and wrists are expensively adorned with all manner of gold, platinum,
and diamonds, and his hair is kept in check by weekly visits to a stylist who
slathers on the latest hair care products and trims the rebellious hairs about
his head and face. Moreover, as he strolls down the street people take a moment
to step aside or compliment him on his latest achievements, or perhaps they
call out his name from the open windows of houses and shops and passing cars.
It seems as if he has everything he could want, and all the respect a
sharp-dressed, well-to-do man could stand.
I don’t know about you, but these
sorts of folks make me a little suspicious. After all, it is far too often that
we hear stories of those who seem to have it all together in public only to
have it falling apart at home. Well, there, I’m afraid the story only gets
better for our leading man. He has a lovely wife, from the finest of families,
an entire house filled with respectful sons and loving daughters, servants who
live to wait on him and his family, full pantries, and even his very own cook
to prepare his supper. Yes, it seems as if he has the world on a string.
“Ah, but what about his soul?!
What about his spiritual well-being?” you might ask, and that’s fair
considering we are in a church on the Lord’s Day. I’m afraid, however, you will
find no flaw there either. He and his family are there every time the doors to
the church are opened. He’s a Sunday School teacher, a deacon, serves on
several committees, gives his tithe in Sunday School and maybe a little extra
when the plate comes around. He sings in the choir, leads prayers, and even
occasionally visits a shut-in or two. Yes, it seems as though he has it all together,
as if he’s checked all the right boxes, is living in all the right ways with
all the evidence to prove it.
So, I don’t know what stirred him
from his routine, what caused him to reexamine his otherwise flawless life, but
one day that rich man decided that he was missing something, something that he
couldn’t quite put his finger on, and so with the determination of one seeking
to put an end to frustration, he set out to find just what he was lacking.
Now, I don’t know where all he may have stopped along the way. Perhaps he
checked in with the local palm readers, hoping for a clear sign from that
precarious practice, or maybe he grabbed the morning’s paper as he headed out
the door, quickly turning to the horoscopes hoping to find his answers in the
stars. Maybe he checked in with his parents, old friends from school, or new
friends from work, all the while hoping someone would have some insight as to
what in the world he could possibly be missing. True enough, his friends and
family tried to help, but in the end, there was still that void, that vacancy
in his very being that he couldn’t fill. I have to think it was about that time
that he turned to that man he had begun to hear so much about. He had heard
that he was going around talking about God and eternal life, and how they were
not some removed, distant idea, but an ever-present reality. He had heard about
the trouble he was causing in the congregations around town with his new ideas
and deep theology. Maybe he saw him as a last resort, or maybe he saw him as
the man with all the answers, but either way, one day, this rich man came to the
rabbi from Nazareth and said, "Good Teacher,
what must I do to inherit eternal life?"
In his day, that was not such an unwarranted question. Everybody wanted
to know how to get eternal life—they wanted to know how they could be saved
from eternal punishment, delivered from the death that was to come. If they had
the luxury of literacy and bookstores, the shelves of the “bestsellers” would
have had titles like The Apocalypse of
Abraham, Enoch, or The Apocalypse of Adam. So it’s helpful to take the
shock out of what seems to be so bold a question. However, it isn’t a question
that has been retired with the ages. To this day there are those people, not
too unlike the rich man in our story, who have it all and yet still wonder what
they are lacking, and in the end, the answer isn’t always what they are hoping
to find.
After correcting the young man’s use of the term “good,” Jesus actually
answers his question: “You know the commandments: ‘You shall not murder; You shall not commit
adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not
defraud; Honor your father and mother.'" Well, there you
have it. That’s the answer: Keep the commandments;
the pastor ought to say Amen, strike up the invitation hymn and let’s all go
home! Keep the commandments. Having
trouble keeping them? Can’t remember them? That’s alright, we’ll print them out
for you, give you a sign to stick in your yard, and give you a poster to hang
on your wall, just in case you can’t remember them. At this point one would
think he’d say “Thank you,” shake hands, and turn around to head back home.
After all, Jesus answered his question, and with what is not an all too
surprising answer—especially given that this rich man is likely a good,
synagogue-attending Jew. Keep the
commandments; a simple answer to a simple question…right?
If only it were that easy. You almost want to reach into the pages of
your Bible and put your hand over the young man’s mouth before he can ask, "Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth."
I have to confess; here I get a little aggravated with this guy. Instead of
thanking Jesus for his answers and walking away in order to try to live them
out, he responds to Jesus by saying, "I have kept all these…"
WHAT!? Am I supposed to believe that? Is Jesus going to buy that? But hold on,
let’s give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, if I went around this room
and asked each of you individually if you have kept these commandments you’d
likely reason your way into believing you have. Thank goodness Jesus can see
through our starched, Sunday morning facades.
After this ruch man (after we) tell Jesus he’s kept all these
commandments, Jesus really hits him in the face with the cost of true
discipleship: "Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, ‘You
lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you
will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.’" Wait
a minute Jesus. He’s not—we’re not—talking about the “right here” and the
“right now.” We’re talking about later, you know, after we die. What good is
selling my stuff now going to do me then anyway? You’ll notice this rich man
doesn’t have a response: “When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had
many possessions.”
Right about now, you’re probably looking forward to Jesus’ words in verses 23-25; after all, we could look
around this room and make the argument that there are few, if any, really rich folks among us (we would be dead
wrong of course!). When you’re on the lower end of the socio-economic ladder
it’s easy to hold this text up in a braggart sort of way. However, despite that
fact that each of us in this room is richer than 99% of the people in this world,
the following discourse from Jesus still speaks to us.
You see, all along this man is only known by what he is: a rich mans. It’s how we know who he is;
it’s how Mark knew who he was. His wealth was his identity. When Jesus says, "It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than
for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God,” it wasn’t
to simply single out the rich. You could place any adjective you wish in place
of “rich”: it will be hard for anyone who clings to their earthly identity to
enter the kingdom of heaven. That’s what makes this such a seemingly impossible
request. Jesus calls this rich man to give up everything that identifies him,
everything that he treasures, and only then, can he come and follow Christ.
The sad truth of it all is that there are a lot of folks who want to echo
the words of Peter: "Look, we have left everything and followed you.” They
want to claim because they have prayed a prayer, been baptized, and created a
religious compartment in their lives, that they have somehow “left everything.”
However, those who have truly left everything—everything they are—for Christ
are few and far between. We have tricked ourselves into thinking this story
only applies to the super rich (and then only to the mean, or evil ones), or
that we are somehow only to identify with Peter and the disciples, but when I
step back from the text and really see what Jesus is calling that rich man to
do, I am convicted and humbled.
After all, there are still things in my life that are exclusively “Chris”
and not “Christ.” There are things I have yet to leave behind, things that
still identify me, which I have yet to release in order to follow him. All of
us are called to leave everything, all that we are, all that we want, and all
that identifies us in order to follow the one who calls us to righteousness.
Perhaps when you hear that, you’re like the disciples, greatly astounded and [asking],
"Then who can be saved?" Thanks be to God, that Jesus
answers, “For
mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible."
We are called to the life of leaving all that we are to become all that he is.
It’s not an easy calling. Many of you may want to walk away just as that rich man
did. But when you give your life to Christ, despite your weakness, despite your
faults, despite your desires and ambitions, Christ gives you the power to begin
to walk in the light of life. Even if you feel as though you may come in last
place, as though you’ll be the last one to ever give up all that you are, there
is still hope in Jesus’ words in verse 31: “But
many who are first will be last, and the last will be first."
What must you do to eternal life? Christ calls you to leave all
of who you are behind: that includes the pride, the ambition, the pain, the
jealousy, all that defines who you are. He calls you to leave it all behind and
come follow him. Will you do that today? Will you begin the journey of leaving
all of you behind to follow Christ and embrace eternal life in the kingdom of God,
right here and right now? Amen.
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