Mark 10:17-31
“What Have You Got to Lose?”
October 14, 2012 - Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost

         Isaac Stern, Itzhak Perlman, and Fritz Kreisler are all virtuoso players of the violin. In one of those everybody’s-heard-it-but-where-did-it-come-from stories, they are all said to have played a beautiful concert one evening. Afterward a woman enthusiastically rushed up to foolishly gush something like, “Oh, I would give my life to play like that!” The violinist is supposed to have replied, “Ma’am, that is what I did.”

         With similar enthusiasm and lack of thought the man in verse 17 ran up to Jesus, knelt and asked, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” It’s not a bad question. He didn’t ask how to get victory over his enemies or how to make profitable investments or even how to stay healthy and live longer. His question did not focus on temporary things of this world, but on spiritual things, on the eternal world to come. He wasn’t too far off track.

         Yet just in his first two words, his address to Jesus, “Good Teacher,” the Lord heard a problem in the question. Before answering the main issue, Jesus starts out in verse 18 by correcting the form of address. He asks, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.”

         Rabbis in general were hesitant to be called “good” for exactly the reason Jesus gave. They feared it would be blasphemy against God to accept the title “good” for themselves. But for Jesus to decline being called “good” had a different meaning. From our perspective we can hear the implication and the irony in the words. Jesus is God. It’s perfectly right and good to call Him good. But the problem is that the young man (Matthew 19:20 tells us he was young) had no clue about that. All he knew was that he was flattering a teacher he hoped would answer his big question.

         We’ve all used titles and descriptions for others as thoughtlessly as that young man. We can call someone “doctor,” “professor,” “officer,” or “the honorable” while meaning absolutely no honor or respect at all. I’ve had a person or two call me “pastor” in a tone that made it absolutely clear they did not really regard me at all as their pastor.

         That young man’s use of “Good Teacher” was not deliberately insincere, but it completely failed to recognize who Jesus really is. As we see in what follows, it failed to truly acknowledge Jesus as Lord and God. Not that Jesus did not want to be called “Good Teacher.” He was all that and more. It’s that the man failed to realize who Jesus was for him. That’s the issue this text should raise for all of us this morning.

         In verse 19 Jesus answered the man’s question by giving him a list from the second part of the Ten Commandments, the moral commands about how we treat other human beings. He even adds a command, “You shall not defraud,” implying the general Old Testament understanding that it was a sin to defraud and rob the poor. The man’s response in verse 20 shows that he didn’t get the first part of Jesus answer, the part about who Jesus is, about his relationship with Jesus as Lord and God. Instead he came right back with the assurance, “Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.”

         It sounds arrogant to Christian ears, because we are so quick to acknowledge that we are all sinners, that no one is righteous. But Jesus didn’t confront the young man on that level. He didn’t repeat the lessons of the Sermon on the Mount to argue that keeping the commandments has to do with the heart as well as one’s actions. Instead, Jesus went right for the issue of where that young man’s heart actually was.

         Verse 21 begins, “Jesus, looking at him, loved him…” He was youthful and impulsive, he was a flatterer, he was overconfident in his own righteousness, but Jesus overlooked all that. Jesus saw a person expressing a real desire for spiritual life, for a way to know God. So He loved him. In Mark, that’s not said about anyone else.

         Because He loved him, Jesus asked him to do something that felt impossible, “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.”

         Let’s have a little sympathy for this young fellow as we read verse 22, “When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.” Who of us can hear this text and not wonder how we would respond to the command Jesus gave that man? In fact, much of the energy in interpreting what Jesus says here is often given to figuring out why this doesn’t apply to all of us.

         We point out that Jesus had at least some followers who retained possessions. Whose homes did He stay in as He traveled? Who provided meals for Him and the disciples? Who even donated a tomb for His burial? Not everyone was asked to do what the young man was asked to do. So, we conclude, it’s not expected of us either. Or we may quibble about the definition of “rich,” concluding we are not. So again, this doesn’t apply to us.

         George MacDonald has a sarcastic reply to all that, to all our attempts to get ourselves off the hook of what Jesus required of this one rich man. He says not to worry. We haven’t even reached where that man was yet. The first thing Jesus required was to keep the commandments. If we haven’t yet done that, what makes us think Jesus wants our money?

         It is in you but pitiable presumption to wonder whether it is required of you to sell all that you have. When in keeping the commandments you have found the great reward of loving righteousness… when you have come therefore to the Master with the cry, “What shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?” it may be He will then say to you, “Sell all you have and give to the poor, and come follow me.” …For the young man to have sold all and followed Him would have been to accept God’s [welcome into His family]: to you it is not offered.[1]

         Ouch! Jesus doesn’t want us to take the extraordinary step of giving up everything to follow Him because we haven’t even taken the first ordinary step of obeying the commandments. The commandments themselves, says MacDonald, already teach us much more than we like to admit about what we do with our money and possessions.

         The rest doesn’t get any easier. Starting in verse 23, Jesus does generalize what he said to the rich young man. He applies it to all those who have riches. “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!”

         If that’s perplexing for us, then think about how perplexed the disciples were in verse 24. Jewish theology, Old Testament theology, seemed to teach that riches and wealth were a sign of God’s blessing. If you were well off, you must be living right, as we still say. If you are poor, then you must have done something to deserve it. So how can Jesus say that riches will keep you out of the kingdom of God?

         Even in Christian theology it’s hard to understand. We believe in grace, don’t we? It’s not what you do, but what God does that matters, isn’t it? It’s not what we give but what God gives, isn’t it? Trying to get into heaven by how much you give away is a mistake. Isn’t that trying to be saved by works instead of by the free grace of God given us in Jesus?

         It only gets worse. Verse 24 finishes with Jesus repeating the thought, “Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God!” And then verse 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.” It’s impossible for rich people to be saved.

         Once again, our self-preservation instinct kicks in and we start trying figure out how to wiggle off the hook, or how to get our particular camel through the hook’s eye. Back in the 70s I got to see the Broadway musical “The Rothschilds” by the same people who gave us “Fiddler on the Roof.” The Rothschilds were a Jewish family who rose to wealth and nobility in the 18^th and 19^th centuries. Their patriarch was Mayer Rothschild.

         In the play, Mayer’s son’s are confronted by his wife Gutele (Mama) about their love for money. She has an amusing habit (for a Jewish mother) of quoting the New Testament and warned them with Jesus’ words here, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” One son sighs, “Mama, Mama, that’s the New Testament!” But another replies, “Ah, but Mama, if one is rich enough, one can buy very small camels and very large needles.”

         Another more serious suggestion is that words have been confused here. The word for “camel” in Greek sounds very much like the word for “rope,” kamaelos versus kamilos. So Jesus is just saying that it’s very hard to thread a rope through a needle. But a rope through a needle is just as impossible as a camel. That doesn’t get us very far.

         Another idea has shown up in a lot of sermons over the years. Supposedly there was a gate into Jerusalem called “The Needle’s Eye.” It was a very low, very small gate. You could not enter it with a fully loaded camel carrying all your goods. You might just get your animal through if you took everything off its back and sent it through crouched low, almost on its knees. Difficult but not quite impossible.

         There was no such gate in Jesus’ time. It’s just a cute story. Jesus really meant to say that being wealthy makes it impossible to enter God’s kingdom. In Luke 14:33, Jesus says, “none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.” We can spin off creative interpretations about camels and needles all day and it’s still impossible.

         The disciples felt it. A lot of people have at least some wealth. In verse 26, they ask, “Then who can be saved?” I once heard a Jewish philosopher speaking at a Christian philosophy conference say he had never known any Christian who had actually done it, had actually sold off every possession and given it all away. I hope that you and I can feel some of the force of that observation, some of the challenge to who we say we are and what we believe. I hope we can feel a little like the disciples, worried about our salvation.

         Because the only answer is what Jesus has to say in verse 27, “For humans it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.” Wealth really does make it hard, make it impossible for us to save ourselves. Our only hope is that God will do what we cannot do for ourselves.

         We are talking about grace here after all. The same forgiving, free, unmerited grace of God which deals with the fact that it’s impossible for us to keep the commandments also deals with the inability of anyone with money and possessions to enter the kingdom. We cannot do it on our own. We completely depend on God. If we get to keep some of our stuff and still be saved, it’s only because God loves us and receives us by grace.

         Then why did Jesus tell the rich man to give away everything? Why did He say the same to every would-be disciple in that verse from Luke? Why in the last verses of our text does He promise blessing and reward to those who leave homes and family and possessions in order to follow Him? Because money and stuff really can make it impossible to follow Him and enter His kingdom.

         There’s another old sermon chestnut of a story about trapping monkeys. Supposedly some tropical tribe captures monkeys by taking a coconut and carving a hole in the side just big enough for a monkey to slip in its hand. Then the coconut is filled with peanuts or fruit or whatever. A monkey comes along, puts in its hand, and grabs hold of as much of the loot as it can hold. But then, with its hand wrapped tightly around the peanuts, its fist is too large to withdraw from the coconut. Hampered by that weight, it’s easily caught and killed.

         Once again, I doubt it’s a true story. But it’s not a bad image. Even when God offers us His grace, even when He looks on us with love like He looked at the young man, and like Mark means to say Jesus looked at the disciples in verse 27, we can still resist. If we try to have it both ways, if we try to accept the grace and follow Jesus but hold tight to all our stuff, we’ll be trapped, we’ll be lost.

         It’s only when we let go of the stuff that we’ll have empty hands to receive the grace. That’s why Jesus is so hard on that young man, and so hard on us. He loves us and wants to give us all those blessings He promised to Peter in verse 30, “houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields,” rich with grain and fruit. When we let go of our own private riches and enter into His kingdom, into His family in the church, then we find ourselves suddenly sharing together in riches we could never have alone.

         The question then today is, “What have you got to lose?” But I ask it without the usual emphasis which suggests that something is a good bet, that what you risk is nothing compared to what you stand to gain. That’s true of course. What are earthly riches in comparison to eternal life? But I’m asking, “What have you got to lose?” What do you need to lose, to let go of, to give away, in order to be ready to receive the grace of Jesus Christ and to follow Him wherever He’s leading you?

         I won’t stand here and tell you to give away everything. I haven’t done it and it’s true enough that Jesus doesn’t seem to ask that literally of everyone. But what is He asking you to give away? What’s in your hand that is trapping you in the concerns of this world and keeping you from entering the kingdom? That’s the question for you and for me.

         It’s hard. Jesus said it twice in this text and He never, ever, ever promised to make life totally easy for those who follow Him. That’s why in the promise of verse 30, to all the blessings, He adds the hard words, “with persecutions.” It’s hard to lose what we’ve got to lose in order to follow Him. We may be persecuted for it. But the outcome is just exactly what the young man wanted, but walked away from, “ and in the age to come eternal life.”

         The last verse of the text is a thought Jesus repeated often and in many ways, “But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.” That idea will show up again in next week’s text. But for now, let it just remind us that we can’t see how it will all come out, just like we can’t see how to get the camel through the needle’s eye.

         What we do know is that what looks like losing now will often be winning in Jesus’ kingdom. What we let go of now will be multiplied and given back to us in His kingdom. What feels like last place now will be first place in the kingdom of God. May we lose what we need to lose, in order to win the places He’s prepared for us there.

         Amen.

         Valley Covenant Church
         Eugene/Springfield, Oregon
         Copyright © 2012 by Stephen S. Bilynskyj