Sermon for Sunday, October 13, 2024

October 13, 2024

By Kristin Berkey-Abbott


Mark 10: 17-31


We might have thought that last week’s Gospel about divorce was a tough one, but this week’s teaching on wealth seems even harder. It’s such a hard teaching, in fact, that even the disciples protest at how impossible it is—and these are people who have already done what Jesus instructs the rich man to do.

The response of the disciples is not different from everyone else who hears this Gospel. Through the ages, theologians and teachers have twisted themselves into pretzel shapes to assure us that Jesus didn’t really mean what he said. As a child, I was told that it’s not really as impossible as it seems, that there was an ancient gate called the Eye of the Needle, and a camel could crawl through it. As far as I’ve been able to tell, there’s no archaeological evidence for that. Some Biblical interpreters have noted the similarity in the Greek word for camel and for a ship’s cable and wondered if Jesus was talking about threading the eye of a needle that way. Some have said that the teaching was for a specific man with a specific question.

In a way, that’s true. Jesus looks the man in the eye and takes his question seriously. But he then expands that teaching to be a lesson for all of us. In the ancient world, people equated wealth with virtue; people were wealthy because they had done something to deserve that wealth, and it wasn’t about working hard. It was the idea that God, or the gods, blessed people who deserved it. We’ve also seen the opposite idea at work in the time period of Jesus, that people are ill or cursed with a demon because of a moral failing, either theirs or their family’s.

Jesus comes at the issue of wealth differently, and we see this difference in two important ways. He tells the rich man to get rid of his wealth, but in a very specific way. He is to give what he has to the poor. In this way, Jesus operates like an Old Testament prophet, like Amos, or a contemporary critic of the economic systems that hold us all in their grip. Jesus knows that when one person has accumulated wealth, it so very often means that other people have less. If the rich man redistributes his wealth, it will alleviate a certain amount of suffering.

Many people have interpreted this Gospel as Jesus telling us to use our wealth wisely, to help those who have little. Many people have suggested that Jesus didn’t really mean to sell all that we have, but instead, to gain wealth so that we might redistribute it, a Robin Hood approach to economics.

But Jesus wants to release the man from his larger situation, not just to alleviate the suffering of not just the poor. Jesus tells the man to give away his wealth, an action that will release the man from his situation of being held captive by his wealth.

Jesus points to a deeper spiritual problem with wealth, and it’s a lesson he returns to, a lesson he gives much more frequently than any lesson about other moral issues that divide our communities, like marriage or divorce. Jesus points out the spiritual danger of wealth again and again. If we have wealth, we are in danger of relying on ourselves, not God. If we have wealth, we risk the pride of thinking that we are wealthy because we deserve to be wealthy and others do not. The more wealth we have, the harder it is to give it up, which may explain why so many of the early followers of Jesus were poor.

But then, Jesus seems to undercut this very message. He tells his followers that if they give up everything-- house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields—they will be rewarded, and not just with an entry ticket into eternal life, which is the question the rich man poses which starts Jesus on this teaching track. Jesus says if we give up wealth, we’ll be rewarded in this life too. Our wealth won’t be replaced, but we’ll get a hundred fold back. That’s quite a return on our investment. Maybe the rich man should have stuck around for the extended teaching. Maybe he wouldn’t have gone away grieving but he’d realize he had found the deal of the century.

And yet, if we take Jesus literally here, there’s a certain risk. After all, who wouldn’t take that bargain? Some of us rely on our stock portfolios and others rely on spiritual abundance, but most of us want some kind of assurance that we’ll be provided for, that we’re not just doing all of this for nothing.

It’s a good question, this deeper question, and some have seen the rich man as someone who has followed the rules and commandments but not done the deeper work of questioning the reason behind them. Or maybe he thinks he’s done all that is required. Maybe he’s thinking that Jesus will praise him and offer him a one way ticket to eternal life that he’s already earned. But we can’t be sure about the motivations for the question.

However, we can look to our own lives. We can think about the cost of discipleship. Like the rich man, we can ask the question about what else we might need to do.

As I’ve returned to this text again and again this week, this week of hurricane clean up, this week where the simple act of doing anything seemed to take 5 times longer, I’ve begun to wonder if Jesus is trying to tell us something about the way we look at doing. The rich man wants to know what he must do to have eternal life, and Jesus gives him a check list of things he’s already done. Jesus looks at him with love.

Jesus looks at all of us with the same love: those of us who want a check list of what we need to do, those of us who hope the check list is full of items that we’ve already done so that we can have the pleasure of checking them off the list. Jesus knows all the things that prevent humans from having a better life, a God-centered life instead of a life full of possessions that create ever more to do lists.

But Jesus also knows what humanity yearns for. Jesus knows our fiercest hungers. We may need to hear the tough answers over and over again. I think of that man who goes away grieving. We assume he’s grieving because he can’t give up his possessions. Maybe he’s grieving because he thought he was doing everything right, and now he’s got another task, a bigger task. Maybe, having done the grief work, he’s able to liquidate his assets, redistribute his wealth, and thus free, come back to follow Jesus.

So often Jesus leaves us with answers that are more parable and paradox than a straight path. But over and over, Jesus assures us that through God, anything is possible. Not just anything, but everything. Let us approach each day the way the Psalmist instructs, knowing that our days are limited, applying our hearts to wisdom. Let us rest assured that we can then approach the throne of grace with boldness, when our days on earth are done.