Won't Let Go [Proper 23B - Mark 10:17-31]

 The Rt. Rev. Jeremiah Williamson

Mark 10:17-31

 

Won’t Let Go

Church of our Saviour, Lebanon Springs

 

This is not a test.  Last week, in the Gospel preceding today’s, a group of Pharisees did come to test Jesus; their question was nothing more than a trap, a linguistic exercise meant to ensnare their holy adversary.  But this is different: this man, this wealthy man in today’s Gospel, is sincere.  His humble posture and dirty garments are proof of his sincerity.  He kneels before Jesus on the dusty, grimy road and asks a question of ultimate importance.

 

“What must I do to inherit eternal life?”  The man’s question was personal – not theoretical, not academic.  He did not ask Jesus, “What must one do?” or “What must they do?”  His question was an “I” statement.  The man was concerned about the state of his own soul.

 

And about the acquisition of another inheritance – one more permanent than the treasures of this earth.  It is interesting to me that he asked Jesus about “inheriting” eternal life, rather than gaining or finding or earning.  This is the only time in Mark’s Gospel that inheritance language is even used.  And it is by a wealthy man who is looking to add to his considerable portfolio. 

 

Now, I don’t know much about inheritance.  I mean, I did once inherit a dresser and a glass chicken from my great-grandmother.  But that’s about it.  No generational wealth to speak of in my family.  I suspect the man at Jesus’ feet had a different experience.  It is not a stretch to imagine that his wealth, as is often the case, was inherited – a gift from a past generation – something good that came his way – without gaining or finding or earning.  With full coffers and plenty of financial security, this man was interested in playing the futures game.  What other inheritances might be out there – and what must he do to secure them? 

 

Jesus can see immediately that this man is not a bad man – actually he seems to be a good man.  He even knows at least six of the ten commandments.  He claims to have kept at least six of the ten commandments since his youth – a claim Jesus does not challenge.  But for all his success – both financially and morally – he lacks one thing.

 

He cannot let go.  What Jesus asks of this man is severe.  Let’s be honest: it is an incredible demand on this rich man. And not just because he has many possessions.  Sure, it is difficult to go from wealth to poverty.  Undoubtedly, the man is accustomed to a certain lifestyle.  And not just the luxury but the security.  Our world is harsh with the poor; that world was even harsher.  Security was a big deal.

 

And Jesus tells him to give it up, let it go.  It is hard – perhaps even unfair. 

 

Because even if this was a middle-class man or a working-class man letting go of all the stuff would be almost impossible.  This is not a Marie Kondo ask.  Jesus is not asking the man to scale back or simplify his life.  He is not asking him to tidy up or trim the excess.  Jesus is asking him to leave everything behind.

 

Let it all go.  And it was way too scary.  And it was way too shocking.  And so the man got up off his knees and left with a broken heart.  Because Jesus answered his question.  And the answer was simple.  But it was not easy.

 

Over the years, and still today, Christians have dealt with this squirmy passage in a number of ways.  Some watch from a distance, interpreting it as a particular call to a particular man.  Some take solace in the man’s great wealth, understanding this to be a call to the rich and famous – a category of which most do not self-identify.  Many take comfort in Jesus’ statement that Heaven is made possible by God alone and not by financial sacrifice – a loophole much more generous than the eye of a needle.

 

Very few take this passage literally.  Even fewer apply it directly to their own circumstances.  Because, again, Jesus’ demand is excruciating: for rich, poor, and middle alike.

 

I think it is clear that Jesus was not an economist.  He was not giving financial advice – or even practical advice.  If everyone followed this dictate, the whole world would be caught in an endless game of pass-the-buck.  Rich to poor and back again.  And again.  And again. 

 

But that doesn’t mean that Jesus wasn’t being serious.  The one thing the man lacked was not poverty.  What he lacked was a willingness to follow Jesus.

 

And it is hard to follow Jesus when our wealth anchors us in place, when our stuff demands our constant attention, when our fears freeze us in place. 

 

I think that is why so often in the Gospels, including in last week’s passage from Mark, Jesus tells the crowds that they must become like children in order to follow him.  Children are not tied down like adults are.  They have not yet spent a lifetime developing reasons and excuses.  They are free in a way that adults refuse to be.

 

And we do hold on for good reason.  Like the man in the Gospel, we have a lot to hold onto – and not just money.  Jesus, late in the passage, even makes a list: houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and fathers and fields.  Things that are hard to leave.  Things that make Jesus seem unreasonable.

 

Things that Jesus knows will be impossible.  “Then who can be saved?”  Jesus looked at them and said, ‘For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.’”

 

And that doesn’t mean Jesus didn’t mean what he said to that man.  But it does mean that God’s grace is much bigger than our failures.  It means that even when we cannot let go of our stuff, Jesus still refuses to let go of us.