Job 23:1-9, 16-17; Psalm 22:1-15; Hebrews 4:12-16; Mark 10:17-31
Once upon a time, there was... Well. Matthew tells us he was a young man. Luke says he was a ruler. And they both, along with Mark, tell us he was rich...
Once upon a time, there was a rich young ruler. We don’t know much about his growing up, except that somewhere along the way he was taught the ten commandments - the six hundred and thirteen commandments, if you’re really counting in the Hebrew scriptures. It was the very first one, though, that stirred something his soul: I am the Lord your God; you shall have no other gods but me. There was such power there, such certainty, such conviction.
And so, from his youth, he devoted himself to keeping the commandments - all of them. No one would have been surprised, then, at the riches and power, the certainty and conviction he accumulated for himself. In his time, wealth and authority were believed to be signs of God’s blessing. The rich young ruler had everything he could ever want, everything he could ever hope for.
Why, then, was there an emptiness inside? He would have thought it impossible, but there it was, a space that was not filled, a hunger for something more. Did he search the scriptures? Did he pray for guidance? Did he consult with rabbis and teachers? We only know that the rich young ruler came to understand that there was one treasure he did not possess, something worth far more than even he could measure. He did not possess eternal life, the promise of one day having power in God’s own kingdom.
The rich young ruler had heard about Jesus, a rabbi whose way with God’s word was compelling, whose knowledge of God was commanding. Jesus was said to be nearby, on the road to Jerusalem, and so the rich young ruler sought him out, threw himself at Jesus’ feet, and asked, Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?
Was he impatient as he listened to Jesus rehearse the commandments he already knew by heart? You shall not murder; you shall not commit adultery; you shall not steal; you shall not... The way Mark tells the story, it almost sounds as though the rich young ruler interrupts Jesus, so eager is he to know how to please God. Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.
From where he knelt, the rich young ruler looked up at Jesus looking down at him, and it seemed to him, though he could not understand how, that Jesus’ own eyes possessed the eternity he was seeking. He could not imagine ever turning from that gaze until Jesus’ words wrested his attention...You lack only one thing.
The rich young ruler’s heart leapt - he was nothing if not obedient, willing to follow God’s laws (whether ten or six hundred thirteen), willing to do good deeds. Here, at last, he was going to learn what he could do to gain that which he did not possess. Go, Jesus said. Go, sell all that you have, and give the money to the poor...then come, follow me.
There must have been some mistake. Perhaps Jesus had not understood the question. What must I do to inherit eternal life? The rich young ruler took a quick mental inventory of all that he possessed, an impossible amount. He tried to imagine his life without all that he had accumulated, an impossible picture. He wrenched himself away from the penetrating gaze of Jesus, in whose eyes there was now a sadness as immeasurable as eternity itself. And he went away grieving, Mark tells us, because he had many possessions.
The end. That’s as much as we know about what happened to the rich young ruler. And though Jesus would go on to say more about how difficult it is for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God, we, too, are distracted from listening, as we quickly take a mental inventory of all that we possess. Impossible, we think, that Jesus would say the same to us. One preacher remembers being terrified when she read this story as a little girl. She went running to her mother, who was sleeping, and shook her awake. Mom, mom, the bible says that rich people won’t get into heaven! We’re not rich. Go back to sleep, her mother mumbled, pulling the covers over her head.
But I knew better, the preacher writes. I knew that I had more than I needed. We know better, too, and so this story makes us want to pull the covers over our own heads. Unless, that is, we’re the stewardship chairperson for our parish, in which case this story is one of our favorites. Go, sell all that you have, and give the money to the poor...or to the church. Here’s a pledge card.
Beyond a shadow of a doubt, this story is about what we possess. And it is as true now as it was then that money, and anything money can buy, is a possession to which we cling tightly. But this story is, I believe, about far more than creatively shifting the weight on our camel’s backs. Listen again...
Once upon a time there was a rich young ruler who asked Jesus a costly question. What must I do to inherit eternal life? He was prepared to do anything, having already spent a lifetime serving God, faithfully following the commandments. You shall not bear false witness; you shall not defraud; honor your father and mother...
The rich young ruler knew there was more to life, however, than following the letter of the law. He had grown restless, and was ready to do more, to be more, in order to get more. From where he knelt, he looked up at Jesus looking down at him, and it seemed to him, though he could not understand how, that Jesus’ own eyes possessed the perfection he was seeking. He could not imagine ever turning from that gaze until Jesus’ words wrested his attention...You lack only one thing...Go, sell all that you have, and give your money to the poor...then come, follow me.
Over and again the past several Sundays, as he walks the road to Jerusalem, Jesus has been answering challenges and settling disputes about what it means to follow him, to answer his call, to be a disciple, a servant of God. Over and again, his disciples have not understood what price Jesus is prepared to pay, a price that will be demanded of them as well. Perhaps Jesus, his gaze a two-edged sword piercing the rich young ruler’s heart, saw in the man an eagerness the others had since lost, a hunger the others had since fed. Come, follow me, Jesus said to the would-be disciple. But for the first time in Mark’s gospel, the call to discipleship was turned down. It was too costly.
A stewardship story. A discipleship story. Still others suggest that this is a healing story. Once upon a time, there was a rich young ruler who ached inside. He would gladly have paid any doctor who eased the pain, but no medicines worked, no cure could be found, until he realized he was only barely alive.
The rich young ruler had heard of Jesus, a rabbi whose way with God’s word was compelling, whose touch in God’s name was healing. Jesus was said to be nearby, on the road to Jerusalem, and so the rich young ruler found him, threw himself at Jesus’ feet, and asked, Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?
From where he knelt, he looked up at Jesus looking down at him, and it seemed to him, though he could not understand how, that Jesus’ own eyes possessed the life he was seeking. He could not imagine ever turning from that gaze until Jesus’ words wrested his attention...You lack only one thing.
In the end, the man was not willing to pay for the cure that Jesus offered. The cost of it would have cut too deeply, leaving a jagged wound on top of the ache that would not go away. And he went away grieving...
A stewardship story. A discipleship story. A healing story. Once upon a time... The story of the rich young ruler is all of these things, piling grief upon grief as though the man were Job himself. But the story is also none of these things, and to understand why we must return nearly to its beginning, to the question that rich young ruler asks and is so certain Jesus has misunderstood. Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life? What must I do?
The answer Jesus gives is not to be found in anything he says about commandments or camels or cost. The answer is here: Jesus, looking at him, loved him.
The truth is, no amount of effort on our part can do what it takes to inherit the kingdom of God. It is an inheritance. A outright gift of love offered by God, who alone can give it. We can give everything we have down to our last penny. We can leave everything behind and follow Jesus to the ends of the earth. We can offer our brokenness to him to be healed. But none of that can earn us eternal life, life that is always, already ours.
Listen once more. Once upon time there was... Well. Mark often calls him Son of Man. Matthew calls him Rabbi. John calls him a Good Shepherd. They all tell us he was the Messiah, the Christ... Once upon a time, Jesus, on the road to Jerusalem, where he would count no cost as greater than his love for us... Once upon a time, Jesus met a rich young ruler who desired eternal life.
Jesus, looking at him, loved him. And there, right then and there, face to face with God, the rich young ruler was given what he desired. Everything from that point forward - the healing that was offered, the call that was issued, the admonition about allowing anything other than God to possess us - everything else Jesus asks him to do takes place from where he stands with Jesus already in the midst of the kingdom prepared for him, prepared for all, from the foundation of the world. Go, sell everything that you own and give the money to the poor...then come, follow me. It’s not about how we get in. It’s about how we live because we already there. It seems impossible, yes, impossible to give so much, to follow so faithfully.
But the One whose gaze cuts clear through to our barest souls knows our weaknesses, and so, we are reminded in the letter to the Hebrews, we may approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in the time of need. If we stay with Jesus, looking up at him looking down at us, then by that very grace we will find we can give a little more each day, heal a little more each day, understand ourselves a little more to be God’s most valued possessions.
May we give, but let it be for gladness. May we follow Jesus, and let it be for joy. May we accept the healing of our aching camel’s backs, and let us then offer our lives for the healing of the world. Jesus, looking at us, loves us. And that makes all things possible. Amen.
Artwork: "Meeting with the rich young ruler," by Frank Wesley; Not sure who created the camel sculpture, but I found lots of pictures of it online; "For he had many possessions," by George Frederic Watts; "Faces of Christ," by Judith McManis.
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