Still blogging toward Sunday
Another take on Mark 10:17-31
Today, a bonus lectionary post—because preaching on Jesus and the rich man takes all the help you can get. —Ed.
Today’s
Gospel reading worries Christians seriously contemplating Jesus'
rigorous discipleship teaching. Preachers do well to honor both the
worry and the teaching. All three parts of the story—Jesus and the rich
man (17-22), Jesus and the disciples (23-27) and Jesus' reply to Peter (28-31)—concern money and discipleship.
Because
this is a story of failed discipleship, commentators often criticize
the rich man, but it is not clear that the Gospel does so. He is sincere
and serious, kneeling before Jesus and addressing him as "good
teacher." Jesus' reply ("Why do you call me good? No one is good but God
alone") is less a rebuke than one of several Markan hints at Jesus'
true identity—an identity hidden until his crucifixion.
Why
caricature the rich man as smug and self-righteous when Mark shows him
humbly asking a genuine question that is existentially real for him?
Instead, we might notice that Jesus probes his level of commitment by
asking not about his beliefs but about his practices: has he kept God's
commandments?
The commandment "do not defraud," while not in the
Decalogue, reflects the Bible's compelling interest in economic justice.
Jesus' mention of it invites him to assess how he achieved his wealth:
was it gained honestly? The man's answer, "I have kept all these since
my youth," need not be read as arrogant or self-aggrandizing. Rather,
the dialogue establishes his integrity and seriousness.
"Jesus,
looking at him, loved him." The loving gaze of Jesus penetrates to the
heart. Elsewhere in scripture he is described as the living and active
Word of God whose gaze, like a scalpel, dissects bone from marrow, the
one whose winnowing fork separates wheat from chaff. His love sees
clearly and speaks truthfully.
Today we might describe Jesus'
word to the rich man as an intervention, love bold enough to step
between an addict and his addiction: first things first; changing one
thing changes everything.
"You lack one thing," Jesus tells him.
"Go, sell what you own and give the money to the poor, and you will have
treasure in heaven; then come, follow me." (This was the story that
converted Francis of Assissi.)
Discipleship begins when the one
thing that enslaves us is renounced and all its claims upon us are
dissolved. We see the extent of the poor rich man's captivity by his
downturned head as he slowly retreats. This is the one thing he thinks
he cannot do.
Like many stories in Mark's Gospel, this one is
open-ended. The narrator does not add, "and he lived unhappily ever
after." We are free to wonder: did the rich man later realize that as a
disciple he would gain a support group? That Jesus' invitation conferred
the power to accept it? That "mission impossible" is God's daily
agenda?
We are not told. Instead, Jesus directs our attention to
the power of riches. How hard it is for those who have riches....
Preachers must keep awake: it is tempting to generalize the problem to
"whatever keeps us from following Jesus wholeheartedly." But then
perhaps we too would be walking away from Jesus.
Money is an
enslaving power: our possessions have a way of possessing us. How hard
it is to stay with the story and to submit to that loving gaze of Jesus
as it discerns the roles money plays in our own lives.
"It is
easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle that for a rich
person to enter the reign of God." Forget the medieval fantasy about a
special camel's gate in Jerusalem or trying to change the Greek word for
"camel" into the similar word "rope," as if that would help. These
attempts at domestication miss the point of Jesus' jolting joke.
It
startles disciples then and now. Isn't material wealth evidence of
God's blessing? If a rich person fails to enter God's reign, "then who can be saved?" But there is no prosperity gospel here. Even the material blessings of discipleship in community come "with persecutions."
Jesus' invitation to discipleship is still on the table. Will anyone pick it up?





