Mark 10:17 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."

A Yearning Question:

The writer of Mark’s Gospel does not waste much ink on literary niceties. He doesn’t spend much time setting scenes, giving background, walking us into the next story as his Gospel progresses. We are simply presented with characters like a rapid succession of Rohrschach drawings, waiting for us to see both the simplicity and complexity of what is there.

In today’s story a man (we don’t know how old; we don’t know from where) comes running up to Jesus, kneels down and asks a question. “Good Rabbi, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Suddenly we know a whole lot more about this man. Just from his question, we know that he has some idea that perhaps Jesus can help him. Whether he has heard of Jesus by reputation or has been following Jesus, he knows that Jesus is talking about the coming “Reign of God.” Jesus has just taught that we must receive it like little Children (10:15). Perhaps in response, perhaps out the deep yearning to see God’s kingdom come to him also, he asks the question, “what must I do....” I think we know a great deal about this man, whom the text later reveals to have many possessions. We know so much, because we are so much like him.

By “we” I mean specifically the people who live, with me, in a particularly affluent part of the world, the developed western world, where even those below the poverty threshold live in luxuries that many in the other two thirds of the world don’t even dare to dream about. (Indoor plumbing, for example.) Our luxury gives rise to the ability to ask questions beyond the normal questions of subsistence. Where most ask, will I eat today? Will I have a roof over my head tonight? Will my child live tomorrow? Will I live tomorrow? We ask instead, am I happy? Am I filled and fulfilled? And if not, what will it take to make me so tomorrow? These questions are about both quality of life and life itself. They are in effect asking how we might inherit eternal life, a life that is more than just existing from moment to moment. Like the wealthy questioner of our text, it is our relative prosperity that gives us the opportunity to ask such questions.

And our questioning brings answers! We are bombarded by potential messiahs, each promising in turn the final answer to “life’s persistent questions” as Guy Noir, Private Eye (Garrison Keillor’s alter ego) might say. From Madison Avenue, we get advertisements of the latest and greatest stuff to come down the line, each offering to satisfy our hunger. Much of this advertising surprisingly, but subtly, offers to answer the question of eternal life. Whether it is actually hawking products that defy age, or simply implying, through the use of youthful models in the ad itself, that if we use this product we too will feel eternally young, each ad in turn is basing its appeal on the fact that we fear death. We deny its reality, and will believe at least a part of each appeal to take that denial into the public sphere, where our clothes, makeup, and lifestyle are at odds with the aging process to some degree. We have a culture of would be messiahs, from sports heros to political figures, each making the same claim, “I can ‘save’ your life from the void of meaning. I can fill you and fulfill your wants and desires. Trust in me.” And we do! To a point.

The problem with such claims and promises is that they do not ultimately deliver what they claim. We are not, at the end of the day, younger, happier, fuller. Though we search for meaning in our youth culture, we find that it ends in the meaninglessness and despair that cannot be easily bought, or even inherited. Our “would be messiahs” let us down. Now we are back where we started, with a burning, yearning question, “what must I do....” And when we hear the words and deeds of Jesus echo across time, we might be suspicious of his answer as well. Or we, like the man in our story today, might actually run up to Jesus, kneel down before him, and ask the question of yearning in our hearts and on our minds. For we have heard Jesus words about the “Reign of God,” and we yearn to be included, to fill the void, to know meaning and purpose beyond ourselves, to live.

A Terrifying Answer:

Jesus’ response to the man in our text is at first mundane. He calls him to the covenant faithfulness of Israel by recounting the commandments from the Sinai Covenant. Interestingly, the man responds in a way that most of us could not: “I have kept all these from my youth.” Then Jesus gives the most terrifying of answers. “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.”

When Mark says that the man was shocked, it is surely an understatement. In the ancient world, no less than ours, the possession of wealth is the universal, though perhaps misguided, proof of a good relationship with God. We speak of a wealthy person as “blessed” and even that cultural commentary speaks of a deeper theological understanding. If you keep the commandments, if you do the right thing, you will be blessed, financially, as a sign that God is pleased with you. So that Jesus suggestion that he give up his possession in order to have a deeper relationship with God, is a theological slap in his face and ours.

And, as if to add insult to our injury, Mark follows this up with a saying or two on the difficulties of wealth in relationship to God. “How hard it is for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God!” “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.” And with these sayings, the disciples, both ancient and modern, throw up our collective hands and say, with exasperation, “then who can be saved?”

The Gospel Connection

It is at this precise point that the good news is given by Jesus, news that answers the longing of many people who are worn out by the insufficient answers of many generations. “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.” This one saying exposes both our faulty logic, and the grace and wonder of our God.

Our faulty logic, again citing the rich man from the text, is to think that we are responsible for gaining our inheritance to eternal life. “What must I do to inherit eternal life.” It is the common technique of the rich, the confident, the successful; people who are used to the ability to make things happen for themselves. We expect that we will always and in every circumstance be able to work or think our way to whatever goals we have, and for the most part, our experience tells us we can. “What must I do...”

Jesus says, in effect, “If you want to know what you must do, I’ll tell you, but you won’t like it. You must give up your reliance on yourself, your possessions, your insistence that you can save yourself.” This is bad news, but hidden in it is good news. We give it up because it is the very stumbling block that is preventing God from giving us his love and care and the life we crave as a gift. Where we act as our own “gods,” providing for our own meager and less than eternal life, the true Lord of Life stands ready to invite us into relationship and give us the eternal life that we long for. Jesus demonstrates this by loving the man, even before giving his response. Just as he loves all of us.

It may help to look at things this way: my body needs a number of things to keep it going. It needs rest, it needs good food, and it needs water or other healthy liquid to keep on functioning well. When I need one of these things, my body lets me know by feeling tired, hungry or thirsty. When I feed my body junk food, high in sugars and carbohydrates, rather than the good food it craves, an interesting thing happens. I get a short, temporary boost in energy (the so-called sugar high) but soon, this wears off, and I am hungrier than when I started, and not only that, have an energy deficit.

With the craving for life, the equation is similar for all of us. When we try to satisfy the longing for authentic relationship (eternal life) that God gives us, with possessions or other things that give only a temporary boost, we end up with more longing than we started with. It is God alone who can give us the courage and the insight to leave this failed process behind. Through Jesus, God has initiated an authentic relationship with all people and specifically with me. As I am loved and cared for, not because of my stuff, or what I do, but because I am a treasured child and creation of God, I learn that there is a different affirmation, stronger, more sure, that comes to me as a gift. While this affirmation of me as a person is less tangible and visible than the world normally gives, it is ultimately one that grants my life security in God’s love and care, and offers me the chance to find the beginnings of authentic relationship and true “life” with those around me. This is what I crave, and there is nothing I can do to inherit it. It is God’s gift to me.

For what God gives is nothing less than a new primary identity. One deeper than the world of family origin, or even of the ownership of land and other possessions. It is “child of God.” The strange thing is that this identity helps me to participate in my family, and in the world of possessions in a unique and new way, no longer dependant on them to tell me who I am, but instead, secure as God’s child, free to explore the possibility that being human is more than what I own. This may make me “last” or “least” in the world’s eyes. But in God’s kingdom, Jesus became “first” and “greatest” by living just this way. Secure in God’s love, we are bidden to give up our crutches, our possessions, and follow.

Rev. Dr. Luke Bouman, Pastor
Peace Lutheran Church
Austin, Texas
plcluke@aol.com