One
day, as he was walking down the road, a man came running up to Jesus. He ran as
if his very life depended upon it. And as it turned out, that was true--he was running for his life. Because you
see, he wanted to change that life. He
fell down on his knees before the Master, and grabbed Jesus around his legs.
Then, his chest pounding, gasping for breath, his eyes big and desperate he
looked up into Jesus' face and pleaded,
"Good Teacher, what must I do in order
to become perfect? What must I do in order to inherit eternal life?"
I don't suppose I have to tell you that he was a young
man. Mark doesn't say that he was young. But for the past two thousand years,
scholars and preachers and lay people reading their Bibles have unanimously
called him: "the rich young man."
And
for good reason. Stop and think about it and you'll realize. An older person
wouldn't have asked such a question. Only a young person-- a very young person,
in fact, would ask it. Oh, we'd all like to be perfect, no matter our age.
We
may call it by different names—“walking the walk” or “getting saved”, or
“clinging to the cross”, or becoming more holy, or maintaining our sobriety, or
“going on toward perfection” as Wesley put it. But in the end, it’s the same-- we’re
all working on our own spiritual growth. Otherwise, what are we doing here?
We'd
all like to know without a doubt, that we'll one day inherit eternal life. But
I wonder if any one of us, however old or young we are, really expects
to ever do enough to earn eternal life— to be made
perfect— in this world?
It doesn't take a whole lot of life experience to realize
that none of us are ever going to become perfect in this world. Few of us are
all we ought to be. Few of us are even going to become all that we might
become. Few of us are likely to possibly begin to become all that we'd like to
be. It doesn’t take very long for our youthful hopes and dreams and ideals to
begin to give way to our disillusionment in this life.
Even while we're still young adults, most of us have come
to realize that perfection demands a cost few if any of us are willing to pay.
The rules of the game, the way of this broken world, our own human weaknesses
exclude the dream of any kind of earthly perfection— not intellectual, not
physical, not spiritual. The best any of us can possibly do after all, is going
to only be the best we can do.
All
of the disciples and the women and the crowd standing around Jesus that day
knew it. Jesus himself knew it. That's probably why he didn't give that young
man a direct answer. He refused to play that game. In fact, he questioned the
very idea that any human being-even he himself— could teach anyone spiritual
perfection-- much less how to “earn” eternal life. He said,
"Why are you calling me good? Why do you speak
of human perfection, or earning eternal life? Don't you realize that only God
is totally good? Only God is perfect."
And
then, born teacher that he was, Jesus proceeded to describe human goodness— relative
goodness. As usual, the Master spoke in words the young man, and all those
listening would understand-words right out of their heritage. He pointed to the
Commandments Moses brought us from on High.
" Do not set up idols. Do not steal. Do not
kill. Do not commit adultery. Do not slander. Honor your parents. Do not
covet."
But
that young man was in fact really young. You could see in his face that these
weren't enough. He had decided that he couldn't be satisfied with just these
rules for human morality. They weren’t enough. He replied to Jesus with a straight
face,
“I’ve kept all those since my
Bar-Mitzvah. Now I want to know what
else I have to do in order to guarantee that I’ll gain eternal life.”
No doubt hearing these words, the disciples and the women
and some of the crowd gathered there had to turn away to hide their knowing
smiles. Maybe some of them actually snickered out loud. How truly young this
man was!
How
naïve he was--to truly believe that he had managed to keep absolutely all the
commandments every single day of his adult life? Who could imagine that anyone could manage to keep every
single solitary commandment, all the time?
But Jesus didn't smile or turn
his head away. The Master looked deep into that man's face. He looked deep into
his eyes, deep into his heart. And Jesus knew him. Maybe looking upon the young man, Jesus
remembered his own youth, his own path of growth. Maybe Jesus remembered when
he reached the point in his own life when he had to move on. Maybe the Master
recalled when he realized he would have to give up that homey, comfortable,
virtuous life in Nazareth for the
hard and uncertain road of a traveling rabbi.
Looking
into the young man's soul--Jesus loved him. No doubt Jesus recalled when he
realized-- just like that young man kneeling before him had apparently realized--
that there was more to the godly life than simply personal virtue. The Almighty
was calling him to a higher obedience. A higher commitment would be required of
him. Just like the day he called Peter and Andrew and James and John and Mary
Magdalene, and all the others to their commitment. Just as you and I are
called.
And
Jesus must have known that the young man would not be satisfied with anything
less than the whole truth about his question. And no doubt Jesus understood
what that truth would mean, what it would do to that idealistic young man. It
must have been with a sad heart that the Master at last spoke to the young man.
“If as you say, you’ve kept
the commandments perfectly all your life, then you ought to be ready. You ought to be righteous enough to enter and be
a part of God's coming Realm. But something still holds you back. To put it
simply, you have too much. Your many possessions are blocking you from God.
Walk away from them. Give all that you have acquired to the poor. Hand it out,
and follow me."
And then that young man's
face fell. It was as if his heart had been broken. Mark tells us that he turned
away from Jesus sad and disillusioned. Because—just as Jesus had known all
along-- this young man had many possessions. He could not bear even the
thought of parting with any of all that he had acquired. He walked away
from the sight of Jesus. He walked away from the disciples. He walked away from
you and me. And perhaps it was just as well.
After
all, he doesn't really belong with us. He has nothing to teach us. He's
different from us. He was rich. We're not. Jesus was still speaking about
him-and to some of the others there-but not to us-- when he continued,
"How hard it is for those who have riches to enter into communion with
God. My children, how hard it is to enter the New Jerusalem."
Then, seeing the looks on some of their
faces, Jesus made a joke. "Why, it would be easier for a camel to
crawl through the eye of a needle, than for a wealthy person to find rest in
God's Eternal Sabbath."
F. Scott Fitzgerald is supposed to have
once remarked to Ernest Hemingway,
"You know Ernest, the very rich
are different from us."
"I know" Hemingway replied.
"They've got more money."
One
of the things about the wealthy is that they know very well that their wealth can
protect them from all the everyday concerns and petty problems that bedevil
ordinary folk like you and me. They don’t have small, practical problems to
worry about. So they can find themselves worrying about but the great problems
of life-- how to love and be loved-- how to find something worth getting out of
bed for every morning-- how to spend your day if you don’t have to make a
living—how to contribute-- how to be happy. As a result, some of them come to
think that they can solve those problems as well, with their
checkbooks. But the truth is, sooner or later they must come to realize-- they
can't.
As
Jesus continued teaching, some of the disciples must have begun to wonder. Why
is he speaking of these things? What has this got to do with us? All this applies to princes and merchants and
rich landowners. We're not like them. We're different. We're poor. And yet,
they still must have begun to feel uneasy, hearing this teaching.
Why did the Lord’s words bother them so much? They were
poor peasants. Most of them owned little more than the clothes on their backs.
They had already walked away from their most valuable possession-- half
interest in a dilapidated fishing boat and some torn netting.
Yet
Jesus' words seemed to burn in their souls. He seemed to be talking to them--
as well as to that rich young man. Finally Peter found the courage to ask Jesus
the question that was in all their hearts.
"But if that's
the case, Master, who can possibly
be saved?" They must have realized that there are none among us who
are not rich in one way or another. Who among us does not acquire wealth of one
sort or another? Who among us is not filled up to the brim— rich in our loves
or hates, our habits or desires, our needs, skills, customs, longings, pride,
thoughts, desires, dreams, children, loved ones, friends, families, property or
responsibilities?
Who
among us can set aside those things that they have acquired? Suppose a man comes to Jesus asking,
"Master, what can I do?" And
Jesus replies
"Set aside the envy you harbor in your
heart against your brother".
A
woman asks, "What can I do?" And Jesus says,
"End
your feud with your sister--reconcile yourself to her."
And another man asks, "And what can I
do?" And Jesus replies,
"Give
up alcohol, it enslaves your body and your soul."
Another
woman asks, "What can I do?" And Jesus replies,
"Forget
your selfish pride. Admit your human frailties."
And
another man asks, “What must I do?" "What about me?". "And
me?"
The Lord’s answer would vary from person to person.
"Quit smoking." "End that negative relationship you're embroiled
in." "Put away that torch you're carrying for that married man."
"Forsake your prejudices" "Put away your fears."
When
you and I first come to Jesus and honestly ask, "What must I do?" There is a different reply for each of
us. It's a reply that first asks, "What
enslaves you?" And then says, “Give it up." What holds you back? Whatever it is, walk away
from it.
So
the story of the rich young man does apply to our lives, after all. Jesus is talking to us. This is where you
and I come into this story. This
is where Jesus is calling us to build in our own lives, and our own community, a foretaste of
God’s coming reign. This is where we are invited to build from the ashes of our old
worlds-- a New World . Jesus invites and calls us to set
aside everything that stands in our way,
"That's
a hard call, Jesus. We're not sure we're up to it." And Jesus replies,
"You're absolutely right. For human beings it is quite impossible. But
not for God. Nothing is impossible for God."
Sisters
and brothers, Jesus invites us each to ask ourselves the question. “What is it
that I am so rich in—what am I so attached to-- that it holds me back from
Jesus’ call? What do I need to jettison?
What's keeping me from total commitment? What is in the way of me giving
myself in faithful discipleship?"
It’s
not a matter of earning, or becoming worthy to inherit salvation. It’s a
matter of freeing ourselves up to be able to follow Jesus wholeheartedly—without
reservations or hindrances. I don't pretend to know what that will be for any
of you. We may pretend that we don’t. But each of us knows what is inside our
inner most heart. Each of us knows, what's in the way, what's blocking us.
I'm afraid that what blocks most North American
Christians is exactly the same thing that blocked the rich young man. The love
of possessions-- the love of money. We
are the richest people in the richest country in the history of the world. And
for people in our shoes, money can be a spiritual problem of devastating
potential.
Jesus
may have been making a joke with that camel in the needle remark, but he was
pointing to a real spiritual struggle that you and I must engage in. There's an
ultimate question that each of us must sooner or later answer for our selves.
Are
our possessions in the way of our relationship with Him? And by the way, with
one another? And if so, how do we use
our possessions? What do we do with our wealth in a world of poverty? And if it’s
not
our possessions, then what is in our way? The only way you
and I are ever going to be able to answer that is to dare to look within.
If you and I are serious
about following this Jesus, sooner or later, each and every one of us is going
to have to pull back all the inner walls and pretensions and images and self
delusions we’ve built, and look deep inside ourselves. We’ll need to enter into
that place within where we never admit anyone else, and are afraid to visit too
often ourselves-- our deepest and most secret hearts.
And
once we're in there, we need to ask ourselves what it is that's standing
between us and the fullness of existence, the joy of believing, the new and
abundant life, the eternal life that rich young man was so desperately seeking?
And then we need to ask ourselves—can I walk away? And once we've finally done
it for the first time, we'll still have to go back every now and then, just to
make sure things haven't changed.
It is the basic requirement for a life of
integrity. It is obligatory to any sort of spiritual life. None of us gets off
the hook. Even that old pagan Plato knew it.
“The unexamined life is not worth living.”
It
won't necessarily be pleasant. Some
people call it call it examining our consciences. In Twelve Step groups they call it “making a
searching and fearless moral inventory”. Muslims call it “the Inner, or Greater
Jihad”. We Christians call it being “convicted
of our sins”. Whatever we call it, it’s
no more and no less than asking ourselves the question. What is there in my
life-- in my heart-- that I need to get rid of?
It
won’t necessarily be easy. But Jesus has promised. If you and I make the honest
effort—forgiveness will be there for us. If we are willing to repent—to
actually walk away— even only that first time— if we’re willing to follow Him
in faith—all the power and the possibility that we could possibly need or
imagine will be there for us.
And
Jesus has assured us. In that Kingdom he calls us to join him in building and
living out—we will receive all we truly need. We will receive all we long for,
all we had forsaken, all that we might have thought we'd lost for ever---
relationships, vocation, joy, challenge, hope--- transformed and magnified and
liberated and renewed a hundred fold.
Let us pray,
Empower us
to walk away from the false and simply follow you. Amen.
One
day, as he was walking down the road, a man came running up to Jesus. He ran as
if his very life depended upon it. And as it turned out, that was true--he was running for his life. Because you
see, he wanted to change that life. He
fell down on his knees before the Master, and grabbed Jesus around his legs.
Then, his chest pounding, gasping for breath, his eyes big and desperate he
looked up into Jesus' face and pleaded,
"Good Teacher, what must I do in order
to become perfect? What must I do in order to inherit eternal life?"
I don't suppose I have to tell you that he was a young
man. Mark doesn't say that he was young. But for the past two thousand years,
scholars and preachers and lay people reading their Bibles have unanimously
called him: "the rich young man."
And
for good reason. Stop and think about it and you'll realize. An older person
wouldn't have asked such a question. Only a young person-- a very young person,
in fact, would ask it. Oh, we'd all like to be perfect, no matter our age.
We
may call it by different names—“walking the walk” or “getting saved”, or
“clinging to the cross”, or becoming more holy, or maintaining our sobriety, or
“going on toward perfection” as Wesley put it. But in the end, it’s the same-- we’re
all working on our own spiritual growth. Otherwise, what are we doing here?
We'd
all like to know without a doubt, that we'll one day inherit eternal life. But
I wonder if any one of us, however old or young we are, really expects
to ever do enough to earn eternal life— to be made
perfect— in this world?
It doesn't take a whole lot of life experience to realize
that none of us are ever going to become perfect in this world. Few of us are
all we ought to be. Few of us are even going to become all that we might
become. Few of us are likely to possibly begin to become all that we'd like to
be. It doesn’t take very long for our youthful hopes and dreams and ideals to
begin to give way to our disillusionment in this life.
Even while we're still young adults, most of us have come
to realize that perfection demands a cost few if any of us are willing to pay.
The rules of the game, the way of this broken world, our own human weaknesses
exclude the dream of any kind of earthly perfection— not intellectual, not
physical, not spiritual. The best any of us can possibly do after all, is going
to only be the best we can do.
All
of the disciples and the women and the crowd standing around Jesus that day
knew it. Jesus himself knew it. That's probably why he didn't give that young
man a direct answer. He refused to play that game. In fact, he questioned the
very idea that any human being-even he himself— could teach anyone spiritual
perfection-- much less how to “earn” eternal life. He said,
"Why are you calling me good? Why do you speak
of human perfection, or earning eternal life? Don't you realize that only God
is totally good? Only God is perfect."
And
then, born teacher that he was, Jesus proceeded to describe human goodness— relative
goodness. As usual, the Master spoke in words the young man, and all those
listening would understand-words right out of their heritage. He pointed to the
Commandments Moses brought us from on High.
" Do not set up idols. Do not steal. Do not
kill. Do not commit adultery. Do not slander. Honor your parents. Do not
covet."
But
that young man was in fact really young. You could see in his face that these
weren't enough. He had decided that he couldn't be satisfied with just these
rules for human morality. They weren’t enough. He replied to Jesus with a straight
face,
“I’ve kept all those since my
Bar-Mitzvah. Now I want to know what
else I have to do in order to guarantee that I’ll gain eternal life.”
No doubt hearing these words, the disciples and the women
and some of the crowd gathered there had to turn away to hide their knowing
smiles. Maybe some of them actually snickered out loud. How truly young this
man was!
How
naïve he was--to truly believe that he had managed to keep absolutely all the
commandments every single day of his adult life? Who could imagine that anyone could manage to keep every
single solitary commandment, all the time?
But Jesus didn't smile or turn
his head away. The Master looked deep into that man's face. He looked deep into
his eyes, deep into his heart. And Jesus knew him. Maybe looking upon the young man, Jesus
remembered his own youth, his own path of growth. Maybe Jesus remembered when
he reached the point in his own life when he had to move on. Maybe the Master
recalled when he realized he would have to give up that homey, comfortable,
virtuous life in Nazareth for the
hard and uncertain road of a traveling rabbi.
Looking
into the young man's soul--Jesus loved him. No doubt Jesus recalled when he
realized-- just like that young man kneeling before him had apparently realized--
that there was more to the godly life than simply personal virtue. The Almighty
was calling him to a higher obedience. A higher commitment would be required of
him. Just like the day he called Peter and Andrew and James and John and Mary
Magdalene, and all the others to their commitment. Just as you and I are
called.
And
Jesus must have known that the young man would not be satisfied with anything
less than the whole truth about his question. And no doubt Jesus understood
what that truth would mean, what it would do to that idealistic young man. It
must have been with a sad heart that the Master at last spoke to the young man.
“If as you say, you’ve kept
the commandments perfectly all your life, then you ought to be ready. You ought to be righteous enough to enter and be
a part of God's coming Realm. But something still holds you back. To put it
simply, you have too much. Your many possessions are blocking you from God.
Walk away from them. Give all that you have acquired to the poor. Hand it out,
and follow me."
And then that young man's
face fell. It was as if his heart had been broken. Mark tells us that he turned
away from Jesus sad and disillusioned. Because—just as Jesus had known all
along-- this young man had many possessions. He could not bear even the
thought of parting with any of all that he had acquired. He walked away
from the sight of Jesus. He walked away from the disciples. He walked away from
you and me. And perhaps it was just as well.
After
all, he doesn't really belong with us. He has nothing to teach us. He's
different from us. He was rich. We're not. Jesus was still speaking about
him-and to some of the others there-but not to us-- when he continued,
"How hard it is for those who have riches to enter into communion with
God. My children, how hard it is to enter the New Jerusalem."
Then, seeing the looks on some of their
faces, Jesus made a joke. "Why, it would be easier for a camel to
crawl through the eye of a needle, than for a wealthy person to find rest in
God's Eternal Sabbath."
F. Scott Fitzgerald is supposed to have
once remarked to Ernest Hemingway,
"You know Ernest, the very rich
are different from us."
"I know" Hemingway replied.
"They've got more money."
One
of the things about the wealthy is that they know very well that their wealth can
protect them from all the everyday concerns and petty problems that bedevil
ordinary folk like you and me. They don’t have small, practical problems to
worry about. So they can find themselves worrying about but the great problems
of life-- how to love and be loved-- how to find something worth getting out of
bed for every morning-- how to spend your day if you don’t have to make a
living—how to contribute-- how to be happy. As a result, some of them come to
think that they can solve those problems as well, with their
checkbooks. But the truth is, sooner or later they must come to realize-- they
can't.
As
Jesus continued teaching, some of the disciples must have begun to wonder. Why
is he speaking of these things? What has this got to do with us? All this applies to princes and merchants and
rich landowners. We're not like them. We're different. We're poor. And yet,
they still must have begun to feel uneasy, hearing this teaching.
Why did the Lord’s words bother them so much? They were
poor peasants. Most of them owned little more than the clothes on their backs.
They had already walked away from their most valuable possession-- half
interest in a dilapidated fishing boat and some torn netting.
Yet
Jesus' words seemed to burn in their souls. He seemed to be talking to them--
as well as to that rich young man. Finally Peter found the courage to ask Jesus
the question that was in all their hearts.
"But if that's
the case, Master, who can possibly
be saved?" They must have realized that there are none among us who
are not rich in one way or another. Who among us does not acquire wealth of one
sort or another? Who among us is not filled up to the brim— rich in our loves
or hates, our habits or desires, our needs, skills, customs, longings, pride,
thoughts, desires, dreams, children, loved ones, friends, families, property or
responsibilities?
Who
among us can set aside those things that they have acquired? Suppose a man comes to Jesus asking,
"Master, what can I do?" And
Jesus replies
"Set aside the envy you harbor in your
heart against your brother".
A
woman asks, "What can I do?" And Jesus says,
"End
your feud with your sister--reconcile yourself to her."
And another man asks, "And what can I
do?" And Jesus replies,
"Give
up alcohol, it enslaves your body and your soul."
Another
woman asks, "What can I do?" And Jesus replies,
"Forget
your selfish pride. Admit your human frailties."
And
another man asks, “What must I do?" "What about me?". "And
me?"
The Lord’s answer would vary from person to person.
"Quit smoking." "End that negative relationship you're embroiled
in." "Put away that torch you're carrying for that married man."
"Forsake your prejudices" "Put away your fears."
When
you and I first come to Jesus and honestly ask, "What must I do?" There is a different reply for each of
us. It's a reply that first asks, "What
enslaves you?" And then says, “Give it up." What holds you back? Whatever it is, walk away
from it.
So
the story of the rich young man does apply to our lives, after all. Jesus is talking to us. This is where you
and I come into this story. This
is where Jesus is calling us to build in our own lives, and our own community, a foretaste of
God’s coming reign. This is where we are invited to build from the ashes of our old
worlds-- a New World . Jesus invites and calls us to set
aside everything that stands in our way,
"That's
a hard call, Jesus. We're not sure we're up to it." And Jesus replies,
"You're absolutely right. For human beings it is quite impossible. But
not for God. Nothing is impossible for God."
Sisters
and brothers, Jesus invites us each to ask ourselves the question. “What is it
that I am so rich in—what am I so attached to-- that it holds me back from
Jesus’ call? What do I need to jettison?
What's keeping me from total commitment? What is in the way of me giving
myself in faithful discipleship?"
It’s
not a matter of earning, or becoming worthy to inherit salvation. It’s a
matter of freeing ourselves up to be able to follow Jesus wholeheartedly—without
reservations or hindrances. I don't pretend to know what that will be for any
of you. We may pretend that we don’t. But each of us knows what is inside our
inner most heart. Each of us knows, what's in the way, what's blocking us.
I'm afraid that what blocks most North American
Christians is exactly the same thing that blocked the rich young man. The love
of possessions-- the love of money. We
are the richest people in the richest country in the history of the world. And
for people in our shoes, money can be a spiritual problem of devastating
potential.
Jesus
may have been making a joke with that camel in the needle remark, but he was
pointing to a real spiritual struggle that you and I must engage in. There's an
ultimate question that each of us must sooner or later answer for our selves.
Are
our possessions in the way of our relationship with Him? And by the way, with
one another? And if so, how do we use
our possessions? What do we do with our wealth in a world of poverty? And if it’s
not
our possessions, then what is in our way? The only way you
and I are ever going to be able to answer that is to dare to look within.
If you and I are serious
about following this Jesus, sooner or later, each and every one of us is going
to have to pull back all the inner walls and pretensions and images and self
delusions we’ve built, and look deep inside ourselves. We’ll need to enter into
that place within where we never admit anyone else, and are afraid to visit too
often ourselves-- our deepest and most secret hearts.
And
once we're in there, we need to ask ourselves what it is that's standing
between us and the fullness of existence, the joy of believing, the new and
abundant life, the eternal life that rich young man was so desperately seeking?
And then we need to ask ourselves—can I walk away? And once we've finally done
it for the first time, we'll still have to go back every now and then, just to
make sure things haven't changed.
It is the basic requirement for a life of
integrity. It is obligatory to any sort of spiritual life. None of us gets off
the hook. Even that old pagan Plato knew it.
“The unexamined life is not worth living.”
It
won't necessarily be pleasant. Some
people call it call it examining our consciences. In Twelve Step groups they call it “making a
searching and fearless moral inventory”. Muslims call it “the Inner, or Greater
Jihad”. We Christians call it being “convicted
of our sins”. Whatever we call it, it’s
no more and no less than asking ourselves the question. What is there in my
life-- in my heart-- that I need to get rid of?
It
won’t necessarily be easy. But Jesus has promised. If you and I make the honest
effort—forgiveness will be there for us. If we are willing to repent—to
actually walk away— even only that first time— if we’re willing to follow Him
in faith—all the power and the possibility that we could possibly need or
imagine will be there for us.
And
Jesus has assured us. In that Kingdom he calls us to join him in building and
living out—we will receive all we truly need. We will receive all we long for,
all we had forsaken, all that we might have thought we'd lost for ever---
relationships, vocation, joy, challenge, hope--- transformed and magnified and
liberated and renewed a hundred fold.
Let us pray,
Empower us
to walk away from the false and simply follow you. Amen.
One day, as he was walking down the road, a man came running up to Jesus. He ran as if his very life depended upon it. And as it turned out, that was true--he was running for his life. Because you see, he wanted to change that life. He fell down on his knees before the Master, and grabbed Jesus around his legs. Then, his chest pounding, gasping for breath, his eyes big and desperate he looked up into Jesus' face and pleaded,
"Good Teacher, what must I do in order to become perfect? What must I do in order to inherit eternal life?"
I don't suppose I have to tell you that he was a young man. Mark doesn't say that he was young. But for the past two thousand years, scholars and preachers and lay people reading their Bibles have unanimously called him: "the rich young man."
And for good reason. Stop and think about it and you'll realize. An older person wouldn't have asked such a question. Only a young person-- a very young person, in fact, would ask it. Oh, we'd all like to be perfect, no matter our age.
We may call it by different names—“walking the walk” or “getting saved”, or “clinging to the cross”, or becoming more holy, or maintaining our sobriety, or “going on toward perfection” as Wesley put it. But in the end, it’s the same-- we’re all working on our own spiritual growth. Otherwise, what are we doing here?
We'd all like to know without a doubt, that we'll one day inherit eternal life. But I wonder if any one of us, however old or young we are, really expects to ever do enough to earn eternal life— to be made perfect— in this world?
It doesn't take a whole lot of life experience to realize that none of us are ever going to become perfect in this world. Few of us are all we ought to be. Few of us are even going to become all that we might become. Few of us are likely to possibly begin to become all that we'd like to be. It doesn’t take very long for our youthful hopes and dreams and ideals to begin to give way to our disillusionment in this life.
Even while we're still young adults, most of us have come to realize that perfection demands a cost few if any of us are willing to pay. The rules of the game, the way of this broken world, our own human weaknesses exclude the dream of any kind of earthly perfection— not intellectual, not physical, not spiritual. The best any of us can possibly do after all, is going to only be the best we can do.
All of the disciples and the women and the crowd standing around Jesus that day knew it. Jesus himself knew it. That's probably why he didn't give that young man a direct answer. He refused to play that game. In fact, he questioned the very idea that any human being-even he himself— could teach anyone spiritual perfection-- much less how to “earn” eternal life. He said,
"Why are you calling me good? Why do you speak of human perfection, or earning eternal life? Don't you realize that only God is totally good? Only God is perfect."
And then, born teacher that he was, Jesus proceeded to describe human goodness— relative goodness. As usual, the Master spoke in words the young man, and all those listening would understand-words right out of their heritage. He pointed to the Commandments Moses brought us from on High.
" Do not set up idols. Do not steal. Do not kill. Do not commit adultery. Do not slander. Honor your parents. Do not covet."
But that young man was in fact really young. You could see in his face that these weren't enough. He had decided that he couldn't be satisfied with just these rules for human morality. They weren’t enough. He replied to Jesus with a straight face,
“I’ve kept all those since my Bar-Mitzvah. Now I want to know what else I have to do in order to guarantee that I’ll gain eternal life.”
No doubt hearing these words, the disciples and the women and some of the crowd gathered there had to turn away to hide their knowing smiles. Maybe some of them actually snickered out loud. How truly young this man was!
How naïve he was--to truly believe that he had managed to keep absolutely all the commandments every single day of his adult life? Who could imagine that anyone could manage to keep every single solitary commandment, all the time?
But Jesus didn't smile or turn his head away. The Master looked deep into that man's face. He looked deep into his eyes, deep into his heart. And Jesus knew him. Maybe looking upon the young man, Jesus remembered his own youth, his own path of growth. Maybe Jesus remembered when he reached the point in his own life when he had to move on. Maybe the Master recalled when he realized he would have to give up that homey, comfortable, virtuous life in Nazareth for the hard and uncertain road of a traveling rabbi.
Looking into the young man's soul--Jesus loved him. No doubt Jesus recalled when he realized-- just like that young man kneeling before him had apparently realized-- that there was more to the godly life than simply personal virtue. The Almighty was calling him to a higher obedience. A higher commitment would be required of him. Just like the day he called Peter and Andrew and James and John and Mary Magdalene, and all the others to their commitment. Just as you and I are called.
And Jesus must have known that the young man would not be satisfied with anything less than the whole truth about his question. And no doubt Jesus understood what that truth would mean, what it would do to that idealistic young man. It must have been with a sad heart that the Master at last spoke to the young man.
“If as you say, you’ve kept the commandments perfectly all your life, then you ought to be ready. You ought to be righteous enough to enter and be a part of God's coming Realm. But something still holds you back. To put it simply, you have too much. Your many possessions are blocking you from God. Walk away from them. Give all that you have acquired to the poor. Hand it out, and follow me."
And then that young man's face fell. It was as if his heart had been broken. Mark tells us that he turned away from Jesus sad and disillusioned. Because—just as Jesus had known all along-- this young man had many possessions. He could not bear even the thought of parting with any of all that he had acquired. He walked away from the sight of Jesus. He walked away from the disciples. He walked away from you and me. And perhaps it was just as well.
After all, he doesn't really belong with us. He has nothing to teach us. He's different from us. He was rich. We're not. Jesus was still speaking about him-and to some of the others there-but not to us-- when he continued,
"How hard it is for those who have riches to enter into communion with God. My children, how hard it is to enter the New Jerusalem."
Then, seeing the looks on some of their faces, Jesus made a joke. "Why, it would be easier for a camel to crawl through the eye of a needle, than for a wealthy person to find rest in God's Eternal Sabbath."
F. Scott Fitzgerald is supposed to have once remarked to Ernest Hemingway,
"You know Ernest, the very rich are different from us."
"I know" Hemingway replied. "They've got more money."
One of the things about the wealthy is that they know very well that their wealth can protect them from all the everyday concerns and petty problems that bedevil ordinary folk like you and me. They don’t have small, practical problems to worry about. So they can find themselves worrying about but the great problems of life-- how to love and be loved-- how to find something worth getting out of bed for every morning-- how to spend your day if you don’t have to make a living—how to contribute-- how to be happy. As a result, some of them come to think that they can solve those problems as well, with their checkbooks. But the truth is, sooner or later they must come to realize-- they can't.
As Jesus continued teaching, some of the disciples must have begun to wonder. Why is he speaking of these things? What has this got to do with us? All this applies to princes and merchants and rich landowners. We're not like them. We're different. We're poor. And yet, they still must have begun to feel uneasy, hearing this teaching.
Why did the Lord’s words bother them so much? They were poor peasants. Most of them owned little more than the clothes on their backs. They had already walked away from their most valuable possession-- half interest in a dilapidated fishing boat and some torn netting.
Yet Jesus' words seemed to burn in their souls. He seemed to be talking to them-- as well as to that rich young man. Finally Peter found the courage to ask Jesus the question that was in all their hearts.
"But if that's the case, Master, who can possibly be saved?" They must have realized that there are none among us who are not rich in one way or another. Who among us does not acquire wealth of one sort or another? Who among us is not filled up to the brim— rich in our loves or hates, our habits or desires, our needs, skills, customs, longings, pride, thoughts, desires, dreams, children, loved ones, friends, families, property or responsibilities?
Who among us can set aside those things that they have acquired? Suppose a man comes to Jesus asking, "Master, what can I do?" And Jesus replies
"Set aside the envy you harbor in your heart against your brother".
A woman asks, "What can I do?" And Jesus says,
"End your feud with your sister--reconcile yourself to her."
And another man asks, "And what can I do?" And Jesus replies,
"Give up alcohol, it enslaves your body and your soul."
Another woman asks, "What can I do?" And Jesus replies,
"Forget your selfish pride. Admit your human frailties."
And another man asks, “What must I do?" "What about me?". "And me?"
The Lord’s answer would vary from person to person. "Quit smoking." "End that negative relationship you're embroiled in." "Put away that torch you're carrying for that married man." "Forsake your prejudices" "Put away your fears."
When you and I first come to Jesus and honestly ask, "What must I do?" There is a different reply for each of us. It's a reply that first asks, "What enslaves you?" And then says, “Give it up." What holds you back? Whatever it is, walk away from it.
So the story of the rich young man does apply to our lives, after all. Jesus is talking to us. This is where you and I come into this story. This is where Jesus is calling us to build in our own lives, and our own community, a foretaste of God’s coming reign. This is where we are invited to build from the ashes of our old worlds-- a New World. Jesus invites and calls us to set aside everything that stands in our way,
"That's a hard call, Jesus. We're not sure we're up to it." And Jesus replies,
"You're absolutely right. For human beings it is quite impossible. But not for God. Nothing is impossible for God."
Sisters and brothers, Jesus invites us each to ask ourselves the question. “What is it that I am so rich in—what am I so attached to-- that it holds me back from Jesus’ call? What do I need to jettison? What's keeping me from total commitment? What is in the way of me giving myself in faithful discipleship?"
It’s not a matter of earning, or becoming worthy to inherit salvation. It’s a matter of freeing ourselves up to be able to follow Jesus wholeheartedly—without reservations or hindrances. I don't pretend to know what that will be for any of you. We may pretend that we don’t. But each of us knows what is inside our inner most heart. Each of us knows, what's in the way, what's blocking us.
I'm afraid that what blocks most North American Christians is exactly the same thing that blocked the rich young man. The love of possessions-- the love of money. We are the richest people in the richest country in the history of the world. And for people in our shoes, money can be a spiritual problem of devastating potential.
Jesus may have been making a joke with that camel in the needle remark, but he was pointing to a real spiritual struggle that you and I must engage in. There's an ultimate question that each of us must sooner or later answer for our selves.
Are our possessions in the way of our relationship with Him? And by the way, with one another? And if so, how do we use our possessions? What do we do with our wealth in a world of poverty? And if it’s not our possessions, then what is in our way? The only way you and I are ever going to be able to answer that is to dare to look within.
If you and I are serious about following this Jesus, sooner or later, each and every one of us is going to have to pull back all the inner walls and pretensions and images and self delusions we’ve built, and look deep inside ourselves. We’ll need to enter into that place within where we never admit anyone else, and are afraid to visit too often ourselves-- our deepest and most secret hearts.
And once we're in there, we need to ask ourselves what it is that's standing between us and the fullness of existence, the joy of believing, the new and abundant life, the eternal life that rich young man was so desperately seeking? And then we need to ask ourselves—can I walk away? And once we've finally done it for the first time, we'll still have to go back every now and then, just to make sure things haven't changed.
It is the basic requirement for a life of integrity. It is obligatory to any sort of spiritual life. None of us gets off the hook. Even that old pagan Plato knew it.
“The unexamined life is not worth living.”
It won't necessarily be pleasant. Some people call it call it examining our consciences. In Twelve Step groups they call it “making a searching and fearless moral inventory”. Muslims call it “the Inner, or Greater Jihad”. We Christians call it being “convicted of our sins”. Whatever we call it, it’s no more and no less than asking ourselves the question. What is there in my life-- in my heart-- that I need to get rid of?
It won’t necessarily be easy. But Jesus has promised. If you and I make the honest effort—forgiveness will be there for us. If we are willing to repent—to actually walk away— even only that first time— if we’re willing to follow Him in faith—all the power and the possibility that we could possibly need or imagine will be there for us.
And Jesus has assured us. In that Kingdom he calls us to join him in building and living out—we will receive all we truly need. We will receive all we long for, all we had forsaken, all that we might have thought we'd lost for ever--- relationships, vocation, joy, challenge, hope--- transformed and magnified and liberated and renewed a hundred fold.
Let us pray,
Empower us to walk away from the false and simply follow you. Amen.
One day, as he was walking down the road, a man came running up to Jesus. He ran as if his very life depended upon it. And as it turned out, that was true--he was running for his life. Because you see, he wanted to change that life. He fell down on his knees before the Master, and grabbed Jesus around his legs. Then, his chest pounding, gasping for breath, his eyes big and desperate he looked up into Jesus' face and pleaded,
"Good Teacher, what must I do in order to become perfect? What must I do in order to inherit eternal life?"
I don't suppose I have to tell you that he was a young man. Mark doesn't say that he was young. But for the past two thousand years, scholars and preachers and lay people reading their Bibles have unanimously called him: "the rich young man."
And for good reason. Stop and think about it and you'll realize. An older person wouldn't have asked such a question. Only a young person-- a very young person, in fact, would ask it. Oh, we'd all like to be perfect, no matter our age.
We may call it by different names—“walking the walk” or “getting saved”, or “clinging to the cross”, or becoming more holy, or maintaining our sobriety, or “going on toward perfection” as Wesley put it. But in the end, it’s the same-- we’re all working on our own spiritual growth. Otherwise, what are we doing here?
We'd all like to know without a doubt, that we'll one day inherit eternal life. But I wonder if any one of us, however old or young we are, really expects to ever do enough to earn eternal life— to be made perfect— in this world?
It doesn't take a whole lot of life experience to realize that none of us are ever going to become perfect in this world. Few of us are all we ought to be. Few of us are even going to become all that we might become. Few of us are likely to possibly begin to become all that we'd like to be. It doesn’t take very long for our youthful hopes and dreams and ideals to begin to give way to our disillusionment in this life.
Even while we're still young adults, most of us have come to realize that perfection demands a cost few if any of us are willing to pay. The rules of the game, the way of this broken world, our own human weaknesses exclude the dream of any kind of earthly perfection— not intellectual, not physical, not spiritual. The best any of us can possibly do after all, is going to only be the best we can do.
All of the disciples and the women and the crowd standing around Jesus that day knew it. Jesus himself knew it. That's probably why he didn't give that young man a direct answer. He refused to play that game. In fact, he questioned the very idea that any human being-even he himself— could teach anyone spiritual perfection-- much less how to “earn” eternal life. He said,
"Why are you calling me good? Why do you speak of human perfection, or earning eternal life? Don't you realize that only God is totally good? Only God is perfect."
And then, born teacher that he was, Jesus proceeded to describe human goodness— relative goodness. As usual, the Master spoke in words the young man, and all those listening would understand-words right out of their heritage. He pointed to the Commandments Moses brought us from on High.
" Do not set up idols. Do not steal. Do not kill. Do not commit adultery. Do not slander. Honor your parents. Do not covet."
But that young man was in fact really young. You could see in his face that these weren't enough. He had decided that he couldn't be satisfied with just these rules for human morality. They weren’t enough. He replied to Jesus with a straight face,
“I’ve kept all those since my Bar-Mitzvah. Now I want to know what else I have to do in order to guarantee that I’ll gain eternal life.”
No doubt hearing these words, the disciples and the women and some of the crowd gathered there had to turn away to hide their knowing smiles. Maybe some of them actually snickered out loud. How truly young this man was!
How naïve he was--to truly believe that he had managed to keep absolutely all the commandments every single day of his adult life? Who could imagine that anyone could manage to keep every single solitary commandment, all the time?
But Jesus didn't smile or turn his head away. The Master looked deep into that man's face. He looked deep into his eyes, deep into his heart. And Jesus knew him. Maybe looking upon the young man, Jesus remembered his own youth, his own path of growth. Maybe Jesus remembered when he reached the point in his own life when he had to move on. Maybe the Master recalled when he realized he would have to give up that homey, comfortable, virtuous life in Nazareth for the hard and uncertain road of a traveling rabbi.
Looking into the young man's soul--Jesus loved him. No doubt Jesus recalled when he realized-- just like that young man kneeling before him had apparently realized-- that there was more to the godly life than simply personal virtue. The Almighty was calling him to a higher obedience. A higher commitment would be required of him. Just like the day he called Peter and Andrew and James and John and Mary Magdalene, and all the others to their commitment. Just as you and I are called.
And Jesus must have known that the young man would not be satisfied with anything less than the whole truth about his question. And no doubt Jesus understood what that truth would mean, what it would do to that idealistic young man. It must have been with a sad heart that the Master at last spoke to the young man.
“If as you say, you’ve kept the commandments perfectly all your life, then you ought to be ready. You ought to be righteous enough to enter and be a part of God's coming Realm. But something still holds you back. To put it simply, you have too much. Your many possessions are blocking you from God. Walk away from them. Give all that you have acquired to the poor. Hand it out, and follow me."
And then that young man's face fell. It was as if his heart had been broken. Mark tells us that he turned away from Jesus sad and disillusioned. Because—just as Jesus had known all along-- this young man had many possessions. He could not bear even the thought of parting with any of all that he had acquired. He walked away from the sight of Jesus. He walked away from the disciples. He walked away from you and me. And perhaps it was just as well.
After all, he doesn't really belong with us. He has nothing to teach us. He's different from us. He was rich. We're not. Jesus was still speaking about him-and to some of the others there-but not to us-- when he continued,
"How hard it is for those who have riches to enter into communion with God. My children, how hard it is to enter the New Jerusalem."
Then, seeing the looks on some of their faces, Jesus made a joke. "Why, it would be easier for a camel to crawl through the eye of a needle, than for a wealthy person to find rest in God's Eternal Sabbath."
F. Scott Fitzgerald is supposed to have once remarked to Ernest Hemingway,
"You know Ernest, the very rich are different from us."
"I know" Hemingway replied. "They've got more money."
One of the things about the wealthy is that they know very well that their wealth can protect them from all the everyday concerns and petty problems that bedevil ordinary folk like you and me. They don’t have small, practical problems to worry about. So they can find themselves worrying about but the great problems of life-- how to love and be loved-- how to find something worth getting out of bed for every morning-- how to spend your day if you don’t have to make a living—how to contribute-- how to be happy. As a result, some of them come to think that they can solve those problems as well, with their checkbooks. But the truth is, sooner or later they must come to realize-- they can't.
As Jesus continued teaching, some of the disciples must have begun to wonder. Why is he speaking of these things? What has this got to do with us? All this applies to princes and merchants and rich landowners. We're not like them. We're different. We're poor. And yet, they still must have begun to feel uneasy, hearing this teaching.
Why did the Lord’s words bother them so much? They were poor peasants. Most of them owned little more than the clothes on their backs. They had already walked away from their most valuable possession-- half interest in a dilapidated fishing boat and some torn netting.
Yet Jesus' words seemed to burn in their souls. He seemed to be talking to them-- as well as to that rich young man. Finally Peter found the courage to ask Jesus the question that was in all their hearts.
"But if that's the case, Master, who can possibly be saved?" They must have realized that there are none among us who are not rich in one way or another. Who among us does not acquire wealth of one sort or another? Who among us is not filled up to the brim— rich in our loves or hates, our habits or desires, our needs, skills, customs, longings, pride, thoughts, desires, dreams, children, loved ones, friends, families, property or responsibilities?
Who among us can set aside those things that they have acquired? Suppose a man comes to Jesus asking, "Master, what can I do?" And Jesus replies
"Set aside the envy you harbor in your heart against your brother".
A woman asks, "What can I do?" And Jesus says,
"End your feud with your sister--reconcile yourself to her."
And another man asks, "And what can I do?" And Jesus replies,
"Give up alcohol, it enslaves your body and your soul."
Another woman asks, "What can I do?" And Jesus replies,
"Forget your selfish pride. Admit your human frailties."
And another man asks, “What must I do?" "What about me?". "And me?"
The Lord’s answer would vary from person to person. "Quit smoking." "End that negative relationship you're embroiled in." "Put away that torch you're carrying for that married man." "Forsake your prejudices" "Put away your fears."
When you and I first come to Jesus and honestly ask, "What must I do?" There is a different reply for each of us. It's a reply that first asks, "What enslaves you?" And then says, “Give it up." What holds you back? Whatever it is, walk away from it.
So the story of the rich young man does apply to our lives, after all. Jesus is talking to us. This is where you and I come into this story. This is where Jesus is calling us to build in our own lives, and our own community, a foretaste of God’s coming reign. This is where we are invited to build from the ashes of our old worlds-- a New World. Jesus invites and calls us to set aside everything that stands in our way,
"That's a hard call, Jesus. We're not sure we're up to it." And Jesus replies,
"You're absolutely right. For human beings it is quite impossible. But not for God. Nothing is impossible for God."
Sisters and brothers, Jesus invites us each to ask ourselves the question. “What is it that I am so rich in—what am I so attached to-- that it holds me back from Jesus’ call? What do I need to jettison? What's keeping me from total commitment? What is in the way of me giving myself in faithful discipleship?"
It’s not a matter of earning, or becoming worthy to inherit salvation. It’s a matter of freeing ourselves up to be able to follow Jesus wholeheartedly—without reservations or hindrances. I don't pretend to know what that will be for any of you. We may pretend that we don’t. But each of us knows what is inside our inner most heart. Each of us knows, what's in the way, what's blocking us.
I'm afraid that what blocks most North American Christians is exactly the same thing that blocked the rich young man. The love of possessions-- the love of money. We are the richest people in the richest country in the history of the world. And for people in our shoes, money can be a spiritual problem of devastating potential.
Jesus may have been making a joke with that camel in the needle remark, but he was pointing to a real spiritual struggle that you and I must engage in. There's an ultimate question that each of us must sooner or later answer for our selves.
Are our possessions in the way of our relationship with Him? And by the way, with one another? And if so, how do we use our possessions? What do we do with our wealth in a world of poverty? And if it’s not our possessions, then what is in our way? The only way you and I are ever going to be able to answer that is to dare to look within.
If you and I are serious about following this Jesus, sooner or later, each and every one of us is going to have to pull back all the inner walls and pretensions and images and self delusions we’ve built, and look deep inside ourselves. We’ll need to enter into that place within where we never admit anyone else, and are afraid to visit too often ourselves-- our deepest and most secret hearts.
And once we're in there, we need to ask ourselves what it is that's standing between us and the fullness of existence, the joy of believing, the new and abundant life, the eternal life that rich young man was so desperately seeking? And then we need to ask ourselves—can I walk away? And once we've finally done it for the first time, we'll still have to go back every now and then, just to make sure things haven't changed.
It is the basic requirement for a life of integrity. It is obligatory to any sort of spiritual life. None of us gets off the hook. Even that old pagan Plato knew it.
“The unexamined life is not worth living.”
It won't necessarily be pleasant. Some people call it call it examining our consciences. In Twelve Step groups they call it “making a searching and fearless moral inventory”. Muslims call it “the Inner, or Greater Jihad”. We Christians call it being “convicted of our sins”. Whatever we call it, it’s no more and no less than asking ourselves the question. What is there in my life-- in my heart-- that I need to get rid of?
It won’t necessarily be easy. But Jesus has promised. If you and I make the honest effort—forgiveness will be there for us. If we are willing to repent—to actually walk away— even only that first time— if we’re willing to follow Him in faith—all the power and the possibility that we could possibly need or imagine will be there for us.
And Jesus has assured us. In that Kingdom he calls us to join him in building and living out—we will receive all we truly need. We will receive all we long for, all we had forsaken, all that we might have thought we'd lost for ever--- relationships, vocation, joy, challenge, hope--- transformed and magnified and liberated and renewed a hundred fold.
Let us pray,
Empower us to walk away from the false and simply follow you. Amen.
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