Risky Business That Jesus Fellar

You could say that I met Jesus when I was six years old at least that's what my baptism certificate officially says. You could say over the next several years I grew to know Jesus and meet him in a variety of ways. I remember once hearing his voice, or what I assumed was his voice, very audibly on run at summer camp. I heard him distinctly say, “I want you to quit football and just run track.”

Jesus obviously wasn't a Texan because a Texas boy going into his freshman year in high school, with a father as a coach, just doesn't stop playing football. Even if it Jesus told him to because no good Texas Christian boy would ever hear Jesus say such a thing. But Jesus said it.

I believe Christians understand the tough demands Jesus makes of them. I believe we all have an understanding that giving our life to Christ means we are going to face some difficult decisions and make some difficult choices. I also believe we make our choices depending on the cost of the choice. Sure, I could have quit football but I wasn't going to, at least not until I had to decide which sport was going to get me out of town and into college. The risk wasn't worth it, in my mind. Likewise, we make choices everyday where we say to Jesus, “I hear what you're asking of me but it's too much.”

As Jesus was setting out on a journey, a man ran up and knelt before him, and asked him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? Not is good but God alone. You know the commandments: “You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honor your mother and father.”

He said to him, “Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.”

Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, “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.”

When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions. Then Jesus look around and said to his disciples, “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God” (Mark 10:17-25 NRSV).

It is hard for us to give up what we have to follow Jesus. It's even hard for ministers to give up what we have and follow Jesus. It is hard. Taking up the cross and following Jesus is not an easy task. It is demanding and it comes at a cost. We don't talk about the cost of following Jesus very much, or if we do we do so in a patronizing, graceless way. We talk down to those who walk away grieving or those who doubt or those who fear what following Christ means. But in our story today, Jesus doesn't talk down to the man, who Matthew later says is a young man, and Luke later says is a rich young ruler. In fact, upon hearing the man say, “I have kept all of these since the days of my youth.” Mark writes that Jesus loved him.

Jesus, looking at him, loved him. If we're not careful we will miss the phrase. Matthew and Luke do not keep the phrase, “Jesus, looking at him, loved him” in their retelling. Why does Mark write this phrase? I think it's because the man ran to Jesus. In the other two retellings, the man is already there or he makes his way to Jesus. In Mark, he runs and kneels before him. The man seeks out Jesus and I think this is important for our text because we are all seeking Jesus in some form. We're all seeking in some form salvation, redemption, forgiveness, grace, mercy, healing, and above all, love. The thing is we are seeking the mercy and grace of Jesus without the expectations of following Jesus. We are all seeking salvation in Christ; we're just looking for the path of least resistance.

Following God's commandments are easy to do until God asks us to do something we do not want to do, like loving our enemy and praying for those who persecute us; or feed the hungry and clothe naked, things that actually cost us something or require us to get our hands a little dirty and participate in the life Christ has given us.

I do not doubt the sincerity of the young man, as I don't doubt the sincerity of each person who becomes a follower of Christ. I truly believe we are sincere but when it comes to crossing the icy rivers we tend to tell Jesus, “You go on to the other side, I'll wait here until a boat comes by.” We are all like this rich man. We become sad when Jesus asks us to do just a little bit more. It is a part of our weakness as humans. It is a part of our sin.

But here is where the text shows us Christ's unfailing faithfulness, “Looking at him, he loved him.” Even when we walk away Christ's love stays with us. Christ doesn't walk away from us. He understands the difficulty of following him. He understands that for those who have something to lose it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle. We've been conditioned to be protective over what we believe is ours. Our money, our homes, our valuables, our family, ourselves, our church, we've been conditioned to believe that because we built it, earned it, or birthed it, we own it. And is hard to let go of what we believe is ours.

It reminds me of a story:

Clarence Jordan, that great Southern, social prophet, visited an integrated church in the Deep South. Jordan was surprised to find a relatively large church so thoroughly integrated, not only black and white but also rich and poor; and this was in the early sixties, too. Jordan asked the old country preacher, "How did you get the church this way?"

"What way?" the preacher asked. Clarence went on to explain his surprise at finding a church so integrated, and in the South, too.

The preacher said, "Well, when our preacher left our small church, I went to the deacons and said, 'I'll be the preacher.' The first Sunday as preacher, I opened the book and read, 'As many of you as has been baptized into Jesus has put on Jesus and there is no longer any Jews or Greeks, slaves or free, males or females, because you all is one in Jesus.' Then I closed the book and I said, 'If you are one with Jesus, you are one with all kind of folks. And if you ain't, well, you ain't.'"

Jordan asked what happened after that. "Well," the preacher said, "the deacons took me into the back room and they told me they didn't want to hear that kind of preaching no more."

Jordan asked what he did then. "I fired them deacons," the preacher roared.

"Then what happened?" asked Jordan.

"Well," said the old hillbilly preacher, "I preached that church down to four. Not long after that, it started growing. And it grew. And I found out that revival sometimes don't mean bringin' people in but gettin' people out that don't dare to love Jesus." (Hauerwas and Willimon, Where Resident Aliens Live, Nashville: Abingdon, 1996, p. 103).

I believe we want to love Jesus and follow him. I believe we truly do; but the hard truth we all struggle with is that we do not dare to love Jesus fully. We, in country built on the idea that are worth is measured by what we have, struggle to love a Christ whose love is unconditional but requires us to give up something. In the case of the rich man that struggle was to give up his wealth and give the profits to the poor. He was to become poor and in his poverty he would find fullness in Christ. That, I believe, is the struggle of the American church and Christians in America.

The center of life for the church in America, for Christians in America is not Christ but stuff. We base the worth of a Christian life and the worth of a church based on much they have and how many attend. The more we accumulate the more we feel valuable and safe and perhaps feel loved or blessed. The story of the rich man shows us that the center of life, not just everlasting life, but life itself is not found in one's possessions, it is found in the unconditional love of Christ.

Once we are able to reconcile the false narrative of living well means living in style with the true narrative of a follower of Christ, our defenses are taken away and we are able to give of ourselves freely when Christ asks of us. No longer do we perceive our stuff as our stuff; instead we see it as a gift, a gift to be shared with others; and our walls slowly come down and we no longer see each other as competition or as enemies but as friends.

Being a follower Christ comes with great risk. It is easier to live in the world and be of the world than it is to live in the world and not be of the world. Giving up ourselves to follow Christ requires the faith that the risk is worth the reward. The pain of following Christ is over matched by the marvelous glory of being in his presence.

May we become a people, when asked to, give of ourselves as a gift to others as Christ gave of himself.