A man approached Jesus. He was
well dressed and well kempt. The type of man whom others admired. Surprisingly
he forced his way through the crowds to get to Jesus—halting the teacher and
his disciples from leaving on a journey in the process. Once the man had Jesus’
attention he knelt there in front of the one people were calling the Messiah.
Then, came the question.
“Good Teacher, what must I do to
inherit eternal life?” On the surface the question seemed innocuous enough. The
query had no barbs, at least on the outside, but something underneath his words
felt uncomfortable, hiding in plain sight, or sound. Inherit. What must I do to
inherit eternal life? Not, “What must
I do to enter eternal life?” nor
“What must I do to have eternal
life?” nor even “What must I do to earn
eternal life?” This successful man, this man who had kept the commandments since
his childhood, this rich man wanted something else added to his portfolio. “So,
what’s it going to cost me?” he might as well have said.
Jesus’ initial response to the
man had everything to do with throwing him off, or at least making sure he was
more than just someone who looked polished. Jesus wanted to know his soul. He
said, “You know the commandments.” The teacher probed this new pupil. “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.” Six
of the ten big ones.
Over half of the Ten
Commandments. Nothing about the Sabbath was mentioned, nor did Jesus bother
with the others directly having to do with God—there is only One God and you
shall not take the name of the Lord God in vain. Perhaps idol worship was on
the horizon, but Jesus did not broach the topic, not now. Instead, he allowed
for the rich man to respond. “I have kept all these since my youth.” Kept, like
one might keep a bond certificate? Or guard one’s fine china. Jesus did not
take the bait though, instead he did something odd.
Throughout the entire story that
Mark told Jesus showed examples of God’s transforming love to rich and poor,
old and young, Jew and Gentile. But, only here with this rich man did Mark say
that Jesus actually loved someone. Jesus agaped
him. He unconditionally loved this man who had almost everything and followed
the rules precisely. Jesus loved him, then he challenged him.
To use poker language, Jesus had
let the man call and raise his way to this point, such that all the chips were at
the center of the table, but now Jesus was going to call the man’s bluff. “You
lack one thing,” Jesus said piercing through the man’s defenses with his tough
and limitless love, “Go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and
you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” That was it. The man
folded. He walked away, grieving like he had lost his mother. But why?
Did he not want to give up his
pleasures? Was it that he did not want to let go of the things that made him
feel important? Could he not let go of material stuff? Whatever it was, he was
too attached to, to enamored by, and to invested in something to walk with Jesus at that moment. Maybe the man was
shocked and heartbroken because he could not invest his way into inheriting the Kingdom. “You can’t buy
your way in here. The only way in,” Jesus seemed to say, “is to sell it all.”
What about us?
Life eternal awaits us. Yes,
life everlasting is there for us to enjoy, but those things that we possess—whether
they be material goods, social status, honorary positions, or even our friend’s
praise and our family’s adoration—these things wrap onto us. Do we hold onto
them?
Think about what happens when we
hold onto something. As our hands grasp onto money, power, or prestige our
clinched fingers do not allow us to be open to taking hold of anything else. It
has been said, “The things we possess, they possess us too.” Said another way
it’s hard to follow the crowd and to follow Jesus too. Or, as Jesus himself put
it, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom
of God” (Luke 9:62), and more provocatively, “Let the dead bury the dead” (Luke
9:60). In this season when we discern our commitment to God, it takes courage
to truly address those things that we hold onto that prevent us from holding
onto God. So, I wonder for myself and for us, what happens when the thing we
are doing is the thing that is keeping us from following Jesus? What happens
when the thing you are doing is the thing that is keeping you from following
Jesus?
For the rich man long ago the
thing that he was doing was trying to buy his way into inheriting eternal life.
Even when he had eternal life right there in front of him asking him to follow,
he wanted to do it his way instead. He wanted to control his forever future. He
wanted to be entitled to eternity even with God Incarnate inviting him to live
into life everlasting right then and there. This sort of controlling though
does not only derive from the love of riches. Denying Christ’s invitation to follow could result from the love of anything that we put over and above the transforming love of God. Even when we love good things or great things over and above God, we find ourselves living a limited life. With God though, all things are possible, even relinquishing the control, even letting go of the thing that is keeping us from following Jesus. So again, I ask, what happens when the thing we are doing is the thing that is keeping us from following after Jesus? What happens when the thing you are doing is the thing that is keeping you from following Jesus?
Let me end with a parable by Paulo Coelho about how we so easily complicate the invitation from Christ to
let go of all else, so that we can come and follow Christ:
There was once a businessman who was sitting by the beach in a small Brazilian village.As he sat, he saw a Brazilian fisherman rowing a small boat towards the shore having caught quite [a] few big fish.
The businessman was impressed and asked the fisherman, “How long does it take you to catch so many fish?”
The fisherman replied, “Oh, just a short while.”
“Then why don’t you stay longer at sea and catch even more?” The businessman was astonished.
“This is enough to feed my whole family,” the fisherman said.
The businessman then asked, “So, what do you do for the rest of the day?”
The fisherman replied, “Well, I usually wake up early in the morning, go out to sea and catch a few fish, then go back and play with my kids. In the afternoon, I take a nap with my wife, and evening comes, I join my buddies in the village for a drink — we play guitar, sing and dance throughout the night.”
The businessman offered a suggestion to the fisherman.
The fisherman continues, “And after that?”
The businessman laughs heartily, “After that, you can live like a king in your own house, and when the time is right, you can go public and float your shares in the Stock Exchange, and you will be rich.”
The fisherman asks, “And after that?”
The businessman says, “After that, you can finally retire, you can move to a house by the fishing village, wake up early in the morning, catch a few fish, then return home to play with kids, have a nice afternoon nap with your wife, and when evening comes, you can join your buddies for a drink, play the guitar, sing and dance throughout the night!”
Christ Jesus is asking you right
now to follow him into eternal life. You cannot buy your way into inheriting
this life. You can’t earn it. You can’t think or achieve your way in. The only
way to eternity, the only way to oneness with God is to release all other
attachments that are not God. The way in is to let go of the thing you have
been trying to do, let go of it all, and simply be with Christ on the journey.
It is scary. It is bold. It takes courage and insight. But, it is your inherited
invitation as God’s child. So come, let everything else go, and follow Jesus.
[1] “The Fisherman and the Businessman,”
Paulo Coelho. Written September 4, 2015. Accessed October 12, 2018. http://paulocoelhoblog.com/2015/09/04/the-fisherman-and-the-businessman/.
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