Heather L. Hayes
October 11, 2009
 

The Next Step
Mark 10:17-31

When I was younger, growing up in Cedar Rapids, my family developed a relationship with some of the children who lived in the neighborhood around Westminster and participated in the programs of the church.  One of the things that I remember from that time was back-to-school shopping.  Piling into the minivan and heading out to Target or Walmart for school supplies and a new outfit to wear on the first day of school.  One year, after such an excursion, for some reason, instead of going back to the church and making sure all the kids got safely home we first went back to our house.  It might have had something to do with finishing off ice cream treats from Tastee Freeze.  Anyway, I still to this day remember one of the little girls as we pulled up the drive and went into the house.   Eyes wide and hands on hips, she blurted out, “Well, you didn’t tell me you were rich!”
       Me – rich?  No, I thought.
       Sure I had my own room and the house had a big yard and a couple of cars in the garage.  But rich?  Rich people had much bigger houses than mine.  They drove much nicer cars and had more of them – no sharing cars there.  They didn’t wear Lee jeans and tops from Casual Corner and Maurices.  They paid full price at The Limited –or shopped at exotic stores like Banana Republic that we didn’t even have in Cedar Rapids.
       Rich – no siree – not me!
       An interesting study on people’s perceptions of wealth and money points out that invariably the bulk of people place themselves as “somewhere in the middle” of the spectrum of wealth.  That while they may be aware of those who have less, there also is always someone else who has more that can be pointed to as a truly wealthy person.  This is true both for the person who is making $35,000 a year and the person who pulls in $100,000.  Related to that, it seems as though in general people tend to think about 20% more than their current income would be adequate – then they would be really comfortable. 
       Reverend Stacy Simpson remembers that the first time she heard today’s gospel story she was seven years old and reading through her Bible before bed.  When she reached verse 25 it so alarmed her she slammed her Bible shut and ran down the hall and whispered to her mom, “Mom, Jesus says that rich people don’t get into heaven.”  Her mother’s reply – “We are not rich.  Go back to bed.”
       We are not rich.  Go back to bed.
       “But I knew better.” Reverend Simpson writes, “I knew I had all I needed plus plenty more.  Jesus’ words to me were clear, and hard and scary.”  And somewhere deep down we all know that.  That we have all we need plus plenty more.  And so Jesus’ words, “it is easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle than a rich man to get into heaven” seem a little scary.   
       Is it any wonder that there is a nearly irresistible urge to soften the passage?  If you read the King James version you will see that the words “those who trust in riches” is added to the passage.  The problem being then not the riches themselves but the man’s trust in his wealth.  A ninth century interpreter made up the idea of a low gate into Jerusalem that was called the “eye of the needle” through which a camel could pass only if stooped and unladen.  The problem then is not the riches but the pride, and it is not impossible but only difficult.  And countless preachers have suggested that Jesus omnisciently perceives that wealth was this man’s particular problem – so he zero’s in on this challenge.  This gives us permission to assume that Jesus would not ask us to part with our stuff, because we don’t really have that problem. 
       We’re uncomfortable.  And trust me, as a new homeowner buying some furniture this week, this passage makes me very uncomfortable too.  But despite our discomfort, we have to be honest about the fact that Jesus is talking to us. 
       A young man approaches Jesus with a question.  Now this is very different than many of the other questions that are being asked and is not the same as many of the other interactions that Jesus has been having.  This young man is not a Pharisee, Sadducee or scribe approaching Jesus with hostility and the intention to trap or discredit him.  The young man is obviously a religiously observant person, he has both the knowledge of and desire to participate in the Jewish faith through an attention to the law.  But yet he has this question, perhaps born of a desire to sew up any loose ends in his life or stemming from deep hunger that tells him that there is something more than merely the law. 
       And then our text says that Jesus looked at him and loved him.  I think that this detail is a critical one for us to remember.  Jesus says what he does in love.  This is not him calling the Pharisees hypocrites as they come for baptism in the Jordan.   It is not the angry Jesus tipping over the money changers tables in the temple.  No, as Fred Craddock says, we have to assume that this man asks a big question and Jesus, in love, gives him a big answer, for small answers to ultimate questions are insulting.  It would not honor the question nor the questioner to do any less.
       I’d like to spend a little time right now unpacking both the question and Jesus’ answer. 
       First, the question. 
       The young man approaches Jesus and asks what he must do to inherit eternal life.  There are two things to note about this question.  First the man asks what he must do – I’m not going to talk about that quite yet, just remember it for later.  The second thing to note is that he uses the language of inheritance, the language that a son, who was part of a family, would use.  And this is important because it gives us a lens through which to view Jesus’ answer.
       So now let us look at that answer.
       One thing you lack.  Go sell all you have, give it to the poor and follow me.  Again remember this is said in love.  Jesus is not accusing that “you have too much stuff”, but is inviting the young man to take the next step into God’s family.  That next step involves redefining his relationship with God and God’s family.  Notice that in the charge there are two parts – the first to sell and the second to give.  Jesus does not say, get rid of your stuff – junk it, walk away from it, burn it – but sell and give.  By giving to the poor, it redefines this man’s relationship with people who are part of God’s family, with people who are to be considered brothers and sisters in Christ.  This charge is an invitation to fully become part of the family by doing something that would connect him with the poor, the children, the outcast.
       Participation in a family goes far beyond following the rules.  It is entering into relationship, being open and honest with one another, being concerned for the welfare of all parts of the family.  Being part of a family is sitting up late nights until the last teenage child is home.  It is rearranging one’s life to care for an ailing parent.  It is dropping everything to be by a sister’s side during a crisis.  There is an implicit sacrifice, a setting aside of self when you are part of a family.  Jesus enjoins this young man and us to take the next step, to push beyond a flesh and blood understanding of family and include all God’s children, especially the poor and the powerless.  What would you sacrifice for the person sitting in the next pew over?  Your time, your money – would you be willing to share something of yourself, to make yourself vulnerable in some way?  What would you sacrifice for the man who sheltered last night under the eaves of our building?  This is the question for us implicit in Jesus’ charge.  Are we willing to take the next step into the family of God?
       Jesus’ charge is meant to impact not only the man’s relationship with others, it is also meant to transform his relationship with God.  One of the perils of wealth is a false sense of security, of self sufficiency.  Abundant resources at our fingertips leads us to think that whatever needs done we can do it – that we can secure our own future.  Remember I said that I would come back to the man’s question…what must I do?  Self-sufficiency and self-produced security can cut us off from grace.  Everything becomes reduced to what we do or what we can achieve and God becomes cut out of the equation.  Our stuff, our wealth can keep us from realizing our need for God because we use it as a buffer against our vulnerability.  We try to exempt ourselves from the vagaries of life and ignore how needy we really are.  But yet, but cutting out our experience of God’s grace, we enter into a never-ending treadmill of insecurity.  Like the man we are left asking – is there anything else that I need to do?  Have I forgotten anything, left anything out?  We worry constantly about when the ball is going to drop. 
       Jesus’ charge to give it all away and follow him is meant to free the man to fully experience God’s grace.  Henri Nouwen has a lovely image of letting go what one is grasping on to tightly in order that one might receive with open, unclenched hands God’s grace.  Life is a gift to be humbly and joyfully received.  Grace is not something we can earn or negotiate, it is just freely given.  Again, in love, Jesus invites us to let go of all that we have and all that we do that gets in the way of seeing that there is nothing we can do to save ourselves.
       My preaching professor in seminary, Don Wardlaw, repeatedly said that when you’re preaching don’t forget the grace.  And that’s squarely where Jesus lands at the end of this passage.  After all those uncomfortable and hard sayings, he ends with grace and promise.  Think that what I have asked you is impossible, he says, you’re right, for you working on your own it is.  But all things are possible for God – and through God’s grace you will be able to move forward, to let go, to become vulnerable, to embrace the other, to care, and to take the next step.