"What good thing must I do?"
Just then a man came up to Jesus and asked, “Teacher, what good thing must I do to get eternal life?”
“Why do you ask me about what is good?” Jesus replied. “There is only One who is good. If you want to enter life, keep the commandments.”
“Which ones?” he inquired.
Jesus replied, “You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, honor your father and mother, and love your neighbor as yourself.”
“All these I have kept,” the young man said. “What do I still lack?”
Jesus answered, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”
When the young man heard this, he went away sad, because he had great wealth.
“Why do you ask me about what is good?” Jesus replied. “There is only One who is good. If you want to enter life, keep the commandments.”
“Which ones?” he inquired.
Jesus replied, “You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, honor your father and mother, and love your neighbor as yourself.”
“All these I have kept,” the young man said. “What do I still lack?”
Jesus answered, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”
When the young man heard this, he went away sad, because he had great wealth.
In Matthew 19:16-22, (NIV) we have one of the
pithiest parables in all of the the gospels, I think. I’d go as far
as to say that this passage alone would do as an entire gospel
. . . except for one thing: we need the rest to help us figure out
what it can mean to “follow me.”
To be successful enough in this world
to possess both power and wealth is nothing to be sneered at
off-handedly; every day and in every way we teach our children to
strive in that direction: “Get a trade, go to college, work hard so
you avoid poverty. Make something of yourself, for God’s sake.”
And how can we be blamed? It’s biological for us to nurture our
offspring, to steer them toward self-sufficiency and adequacy, if not
wealth.
So how dare Jesus whisper the
perversion in their ears that its not adequacy or abundance or even
competence that secures their happiness, but rather the enigmatic and
only, “give it all up and follow me,”
that secures permanent contentment?
These
are not guidance-counselor words: these are words of revolution, more
of a guerrilla-like call to action than of anything else. These are
not pastor words, but a Che Guevara-like summons to join a radical
insurgency. And they were written down by the writer of Matthew to
encourage and sustain a tenuous reformation in the brutal tumult of
Roman occupation, where violence, even crucifixions were
common-place.
Here’s
a bit from Martin Klaassen’s History of the Defenceless
Anabaptist Churches: “Matthias
. . . returning to Palestine, was accused by the Jews of blasphemy
against God, Moses and the Law. He was tied to a cross, stoned there
and then beheaded with an axe.” (p.31)
However could the rich young ruler be
convinced that following Christ would be the key to his eternal
reward? It turns the whole world and everything in it upside-down.
And are we to understand in our day that it’s through Acts of
the Apostles and Paul’s
letters to the churches that we are meant to understand what it means
to “follow me?” Or should we place our confidence in the Sermon
on the Mount rather? Or do both
together give us plenty of clues about what Jesus meant by “come,
follow me?”
Perhaps
in an age where being crucified, stoned and
beheaded—as Matthias supposedly was—can’t be the measure of
how closely we've followed Christ, the struggle to which we’re called is
nevertheless the same as it’s been in every age: that good shall
prevail over evil, that the hungry shall be fed, the prisoners freed,
the sick be healed, the disappointed comforted. That all people shall be reconciled to one
another and to creation.
If we
today can engage more fully in that quest, that revolution, by giving
up our dependence on what we have and are, then the parable of the
rich young ruler can surely resonate with us.
Matthias’
eternal reward did not emanate from his determination to be brutally
killed, it was in his perseverance in following Christ in his time .
. . no matter the consequences.
“But
when the young man heard that saying, he went away sorrowful, for he
had great possessions.”
...with prophetic zing! Thanks much, George.
ReplyDeleteThanks for drawing our attention to this pivotal passage, George. It's challenging to figure out how it applies in western culture, but some things are clear.
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