Mark 10: 17–31
|
Lord, may we hear your voice in the words spoken in your name. Amen.
|
You and I have something in common this morning. We have come to
this place hoping to meet Jesus, hoping for a sense of his Presence
here with us, a sense of the peace of God that passes all
understanding. So we have come here to this church for the very
same reasons the unnamed man in Mark’s Gospel dares to run up to
Jesus and fall to his knees at his feet. We want something from
Jesus, something we sense only he can provide.
|
We don’t know this man’s name, but we’ve heard a lot
about him over the years because both Mathew and Luke tell the very
same story that Mark tells us this morning – only Matthew tells
us that he’s young, and Luke adds he was both rich and a
ruler. So no matter who’s telling the story, we’ve
taken to calling him “the rich young ruler.”
|
Now at his point you might be thinking that you really don’t have
as much in common with this guy as I’m suggesting, because you
don’t think of yourself as rich. But honestly, in the eyes
of the world, you and I have great possessions. As Americans we
really do have more of this world’s goods than the vast majority
of the rest of the world. In their eyes, at least, we really
are rich.
|
So what is it that this man wants from Jesus? If he was rich,
it probably wasn’t a material need. And if he was a ruler,
he probably wasn’t looking for significance. The way he
articulates his need is to ask Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal
life. So he’s looking for the Kingdom of God. And
Jesus replies with the obvious answer – that he’s to
follow the commandments of God.
|
“But I’ve followed those commandments all my life,” the
young man cries. And I think what he’s not saying there
is, “So why am I still yearning? What is it that I
still need?”
|
And at this point in the story Mark adds a detail that Matthew and Luke
leave out. Mark says that Jesus looks deeply into the young
man’s eyes and he loves him. He loves what he sees
there – a young man who has done the best he can with all that
he has – his natural abilities, the commandments of God and the
best he can make of this mystery we call life. Somehow, though,
it has not been enough. He is still yearning for something he
can’t quite put his finger on, something he can’t quite
articulate. And Jesus, seeing him yearn for something more, loves
him.
|
So he holds out to him the key to the life he’s been looking
for. “You lack just one thing,” he tells the young
man. “Go, sell what you own, and give the money to the
poor. Then come; and follow me.”
|
Now usually, when this story is told, much is made about this man
turning away sorrowfully – because he had many possessions – as
if that were the end of the story. So you and I have both heard
more sermons that we want to count about selling what we have to rise
up and follow Jesus. But I think it’s about a whole lot
more than that.
|
In fact, I think that’s putting the em pha’ sis on
the wrong syll ab’ le. What’s more
important here is the young man’s yearning – and
Jesus’ loving recognition of that yearning.
|
For look at what he does. He offers this young man the opportunity
to become one of his disciples. And that didn’t happen very
often, despite the fact that crowds of people were coming to Jesus
every day, often as individuals asking for something. But this
particular individual was different. Jesus saw something when he
looked deeply into this young man’s eyes. He saw the
yearning – and that yearning touched Jesus’ heart.
|
The opportunity he offered in return wasn’t some ornate gift
presented on a silver platter. No. It was the kind of
opportunity a college professor offers to his best students – an
opportunity to write an honors thesis that will stretch and grow them
in ways that will take a lot of work, a lot of time and
dedication. Most of the students will accept the challenge
because they know that professor has seen something in
them – something that’s worth developing. So maybe
they won’t accept the offer immediately. Maybe they will
have to turn away and think hard about what this will cost
them. But most of them, grasping that this is the opportunity
of a lifetime, will finally accept the challenge. And so, I
believe, will we.
|
In fact, I think many of us have already accepted that
challenge. But it’s not a one–time offer. Over
and over again, as we walk with him, Jesus offers us additional
challenges to go farther with him. And as we hear those
challenges, we think them over . . . we
count the cost . . . and we finally
accept them.
|
For that’s the thing about our yearning. No matter how old
we are we still want to please the One who created us. We still
thirst for the living water of his love and approval. That’s
why we keep coming back to this little church. That’s why
we listen intently for His voice, His words, addressed to us, among
all the words spoken in this place. For we still want to grow up
into the full stature of Christ. We still want to learn his
ways. No matter if we already have great riches, no matter how
gifted and talented we might be – we know if something is still
missing. And we won’t rest until we find it.
|
I’m reminded, actually, of a children’s story by C.S.
Lewis. Early on in his book The Silver Chair the young girl
Jill first encounters Aslan, the lion king of the mythical land of
Narnia, a land that resembles the Kingdom of God. And there she
comes face to face with the deep challenge of accepting Aslan’s offer.
“Are you not thirsty?” said the Lion.
“I’m dying of thirst,“ said Jill.
“Then drink,” said the Lion.
“May I – could I — would you mind going away while
I do?” said Jill.
The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And
as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as
well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience.
The delicious rippling noise of the stream was driving her nearly frantic.
“Will you promise not to – do anything to me, if I do
come?” said Jill.
“I make no promise,” said the Lion.
Jill was so thirsty now, that without noticing it, she had come a step
nearer.
“Do you eat girls?” she said.
“I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and
emperors, cities and realms,” said the Lion. It didn’t
say this as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it
were angry. It just said it.
“I daren’t come and drink,” said Jill.
“Then you will die of thirst,” said the Lion.
“Oh dear!” said Jill, coming another step nearer.
“I suppose I must go and look for another stream then.”
“There is no other stream,” said the Lion.
|
And that’s where we have to leave it this morning, never quite
knowing if Jill finally overcame her fear of Aslan – and bowed
her knee and drank from those waters of life. Nor do we know if
the rich young ruler finally realized that following after Jesus
was worth far more than any treasure he clutched in his hands. But
my guess is that they did, both of them. My guess is that they
both finally bowed the knee of their hearts and decided to live their
lives on Christ’s terms.
|
In fact, I think we all will, finally. It’s only a question
of when.
|
Amen.
|