Margie Quinn
This morning, we get another round of what I’d like to call the “Hard Words from Jesus.” We’ve heard about divorce and about tearing out our eyes or cutting off our limbs if we are tempted to sin, but now… we get what might be one of the hardest things Jesus says. Because there’s really no way around it.
So, let’s get into it. There is a young man, a certain ruler, who kneels before Jesus. That’s a good start, right? He shows humility toward Jesus, the Son of God. He then addresses Jesus as “Good Teacher.” “Good Teacher,” he says with reverence, “what do I have to do to be saved, to inherit eternal life?” He goes on, “I have followed the law, obeyed the commandments, and have been a good student. I haven’t stolen anything or cheated on my spouse, I have honored my parents, I haven’t murdered or committed fraud.” And Jesus, looking at him, seeing him, and loving him, answers: “You lack one thing. Go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. THEN, come follow me.”
In this moment, Jesus requires an action that is even more extreme than the commandments our ruler had so obediently followed.
A lot of preachers and scholars have tried to explain this passage away, wanting to leave their listeners feeling heartened, but I don’t think Jesus minces words in the gospel of Mark. He says what he says.
And when the young ruler hears what Jesus has to say, he is shocked and goes away grieving, “for he had many possessions.”
After the young guy leaves, Jesus starts talking to the disciples, who are probably scratching their heads as they often are, and says, “It’s gonna be really hard for those with wealth to enter the kingdom of God.” Notice here: he doesn’t say, “It’s gonna be hard for someone with wealth to inherit eternal life.” He is not thinking about the then and there. He’s thinking about the here and now. He says it two more times: “It’s gonna be hard to enter the kingdom of God, y’all. It’s gonna be easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” Jesus makes his point three times because sometimes we don’t want to hear it the first time, or even the second time. He makes his point clear: I’m not talking about the future, I’m talking about the present, real, kingdom of God, which is near, as scripture tells us, and it is happening all around us.
This is a tough one for the disciples to grasp, so they ask Jesus the same kind of question that the rich man did, “Okay then who can be saved?”
“It’s impossible for you to be saved on your own,” Jesus responds, “You’ve got to rely on God to help you with that.” Peter gives him a little back-talk. “Look, we have left everything behind and followed you.” “Nice work,” Jesus reassures him, “because if you follow me, you know better than anyone that the first are gonna be last, and the last first.”
According to this story, I am delivering the bad news this morning: It’s gonna be pretty hard for those of us with wealth to participate in and stay near to the kingdom of God at work around us.
But let me be clear: I don’t think this story is intended to guilt-trip those of us who are economically or materially privileged. I don’t think Jesus is calling the young ruler evil. We aren’t evil for having economic privilege. This isn’t a story about hating the rich. In fact, this is the only time in the gospel of Mark where someone is being singled out as being loved by Jesus. And as someone deeply seen and loved by Jesus, Jesus trusts him enough to tell him some hard news; some news that, if taken seriously, will transform this man’s character, his relationships, and his life.
I want to tell you a story. When I lived in Seattle after college, working in policy advocacy for affordable housing, I met a man named Rex Hohlebin. Rex was an architect in Seattle who designed million-dollar homes. His office looked out onto a popular walking and biking path in the city. There were several benches along the path for people to sit and rest. Rex biked down this path every day on his way to work, zooming past countless women and men sleeping outside and on benches lining the path. One day, Rex saw a man sleeping on a bench and, for whatever reason that day, got off of his bike and just said hello. The man’s name was Chiaka. He was a prolific painter who had severe mental health issues and had been living outside for a long time. Rex talked with him for a while and, to Rex’s surprise, asked if Chiaka wanted to come into his office for a cup of tea. An hour later, Chiaka did just that. They sat for a while, swapping stories. It was one of the most meaningful conversations that Rex had ever had, he told me. Then, Rex asked something else that surprised him, “Would you like to sleep in the shed next to my office?” This began a friendship between Rex and Chiaka, who started sharing more and more cups of tea together.
Rex quickly realized that he wanted to share and sell Chiaka’s paintings. He began taking pictures of these paintings and sharing them on Facebook. Very quickly, people started buying Chiaka’s art. And very quickly, some people living on the street heard about this architect who let people use his bathroom and sit in a warm office for a while. Rex’s architecture projects started falling by the wayside as he sat with people, listening to their stories. He began taking photographs of people and sharing their needs, whether for a pair of boots or a sleeping bag, on a new Facebook page he named, “Homeless in Seattle.”
I met and started working for Rex around the time that the Facebook page took off. He decided to ditch his architecture practice and start a non-profit out of a Methodist church called “Facing Homelessness.” Rex would meet people living outside, take their picture and post their needs. Then, people all over the city–girl scouts and businessmen and church ladies and families–would bring in those items, sometimes interfacing with the very person or people in the picture. In my time working with Rex, every single need he posted was met.
Rex walked away from designing million-dollar homes to pursue a life in relationship with people who didn’t have homes. Rex didn’t give away everything he owned, but his life and the relationships in it were immediately transformed when he just said hello. Rex was a stand-up guy before he met Chiaka. He was a law-abiding citizen, just like the young ruler. Something in Rex moved him to look beyond the money he made and see the person sitting right outside of his office.
We have been lied to, church. We have been told that our success in this life is not measured by what we give away, but by what we own, what we accumulate. The goal as I see it, is the older we get, the more we should acquire, gain and even hoard. And that lie is not just coming from one political party that a lot of us see as the enemy, though it’s easy to point fingers. No, all of us fall prey to this myth of meritocracy.
In 2024, I have been encouraged by the more frequent conversations we are having about race, gender and sexuality. But, I am convinced that we still don’t know how to talk about money. We don’t know how to talk about it, because we don’t want to address it. It is, perhaps, the greatest systemic sin in our country and world: the belief that we have a right to our wealth. And yet, in one of the hardest passages in scripture, in which a very earnest young man kneels at the feet of Jesus, exclaiming that he has followed the law, Jesus requires him to perform an action that we later learn leaves him shocked and grieving.
Church, if the gospel isn’t making us feel shocked and grieving, if it isn’t challenging us to take a good hard look at our wealth, then we are not listening to the words of Jesus. We are not hearing the good news, which is always a little bit of bad news for those of us who find ourselves on the more comfy side of things. Because, and I think all of us know this deep down, the more we have, the harder it is to give.
This passage actually gives me hope at the same time that it challenges me. It gives me hope that Jesus, in talking about the here and now, is anticipating and dreaming about the kingdom of God, where people share resources, have each other’s backs, want to upend class systems, and take care of each other. It’s a kingdom that wants to call out the lie that we worship Empire, not God. It’s a kingdom that wants us to worry less about being “saved” and more about joining Jesus in what one scholar calls “kingdom activity.”
Kingdom activity, like an architect in Seattle whose life has been transformed from a simple “hello.” Kingdom activity, like the community grants that we give out to organizations serving the direct needs of the poor. Kingdom activity, like going to Target right after the service to purchase the supplies we need to serve our brothers and sisters who are living unhoused, because of the lack of affordable housing in this city, because of the lack of resources, because of the abuse happening in the homes they had to flee. Kingdom activity, which isn’t just about one-off charity donations, although that’s a great place to start, but a kingdom activity that is about looking our city in the eye, our country in the eye, with love, and seeing it and saying, “we can do better than this.” Kingdom activity, which is desperately trying to free us from captivity, (and yes it is a captivity), of wealth. Kingdom activity, which wants us to believe, really believe, that we are a part of co-creating a new life, in Jesus.
In Jesus’ kingdom, he promises new life. A life that, if we follow him, calls for a transformation of character. We may walk away from this interaction with Jesus shocked and grieving, but hopefully we also walk away from this interaction feeling seen and loved, too, by a God who loves us enough to say some hard things to us in the hopes that we give up our stuff and follow him.
May it be so.