The cost of devotion
This week is on Luke 18:18-25:
These verses are often used by wealthy ministries to goad people into giving them their savings. But in reality they contain an important truth about the kingdom of God and the cost of being devoted to it. It touches on our attitudes towards wealth and on our views of righteousness.
We don't know who the ruler was who talked to Jesus, but we know that he wanted to score high on the admission criteria to the kingdom of God and gain eternal life. He wants to know what he must "do" in order to be saved. Jesus replies by giving him a summary of the ten commandments, which are a great starting point, but the ruler wants more. He wants the advanced level.
Jesus' response is shocking. "Sell all that you have and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me." We sort of numb ourselves to the impact of this statement, because few of us consider ourselves to be rich. But think about it from the perspective of the ruler. His wealth is either something he worked hard to achieve, or which represents the labour and heritage of his family. If we can avoid stereotyping him as "the 1%" we can see that this is a pretty big sacrifice. Imagine being asked to give up your life's savings, 401k plans, house and property, coin collection, and access to social security funds, and not just to give them up to someone like Jesus but to indigents, homeless people, welfare folks, people who are stereotypically undeserving of the fruits of your labour. Sit and think about that for a minute.
Imagine you have a contract sitting in front of you, detailing all of the things, and once you sign they're no longer yours. Imagine further that there's a good chance you'll lose your job and be cut off from your family as a result of so badly mismanaging your resources. Who wouldn't balk at that?
It's no wonder the ruler became sad. His wealth may have come to define him. He would be giving up his identity, his credentials, his reputation, his circle of friends, the luxuries he'd taken for granted, his social power, pretty much everything. Instead of eternal life being something he could pursue as a side project, now it's a choice between that and everything.
And that's kind of the point Jesus is making with him. Jesus had to pay everything to buy us, so if we're going to follow in his steps we're not going to be able to throw some pocket change at the problem and call it done. Nobody pays the kind of price that Jesus paid for us unless it's something incredibly valuable, and the kind of love that makes you do that desires reciprocation.
Jesus asks and answers the question for the ruler, "Who or what do you love more than me?" It's a jealous lover's question. He's saying "I'm committed. Are you?" He frequently asks us questions like that. He asked Abraham "Are you willing to leave your family and native lands in order to be with me?" He asked Moses "Are you willing to give up the comforts of upper class living to burn bridges with the elites and spend the rest of your life leading a bunch of ungrateful fools in a gruelling journey through the desert?" He says "I died for you. Would you die for me too?" It's not a question of obedience as much as it is a question of love and devotion.
But his question is also beautifully ironic. He is asking the ruler to give up everything for those who least deserve it. In other words, he's asking the ruler to do what he's about to do. He's saying "If you want to be 'good' like me, you'll love people to the point of ridiculous grace." In other places he tells people that if they want to be like him, they'll need to take up their cross and follow him. In other words, they need to be ready to lose everything for him, like he is asking the ruler in these verses to do. If you don't love anyone enough to do that, you don't understand the love of God.
If you've read about saints in the past and present, you'll notice that this is a common point of transformation in their lives. In the middle ages, a lot of saints were wealthy playboys or of noble blood when Jesus appeared to them and asked them to give it all up for a life of poverty, simplicity, serving the poor and sharing his message. One of them even gave up his last item of clothing and showed up naked to tell his family that he was running away to become a priest. (Not recommended.) It's shocking!
The church tells us that to inherit eternal life and be good people, we need to show up to church every week, maybe attend some meetings during the week, give ten percent to the church plus more if they pass the collection plate around for something special, and generally do nice things. I think that's the sort of answer the ruler was hoping to hear from Jesus. Instead we have to understand that all we have could be in play, not just ten percent of our money or time, but even up to our life itself!
And this is where Jesus talks about wealth. It's hard for rich people to be fully devoted to God. And by rich, he doesn't mean rich in the sense of celebrities and politicians, but even anyone who has money put away and likes a bit of disposable income. The levels of wealth we have today, in terms of what we consider to be rich, were unheard of back in Jesus' day.
Generally, if you're accumulating a lot of money, it's because you want it that way. It gives you a sense of security, or you have plans for it, or you just like how the number makes you feel. That fact hasn't changed from Jesus' day to now, even if the size of the number or what it can buy has. Over time, you get used to that security, or the assurance of your plans someday being realised, or the pride of having attained a certain number, and it becomes a very difficult thing to part with. The money itself isn't evil, but the habituation to it, or even the addiction to it, is dangerous to our spiritual health.
So are we supposed to give up all of our money to the homeless and join them under the bridge if we want to be considered good Christians? Not necessarily. It's more of a question for self-examination. What do I have in my life that I love more than God? It's rare that we're lucky enough to find out directly like the ruler in the verses did. Usually it's something that is exposed through what we won't do. Like maybe we don't want to give $50 to help someone in need because we know we won't be able to buy froofy coffees for awhile if we do. Or maybe we don't want to talk about religious topics at work because we're afraid we won't get a bonus if someone overhears, or that we'll be sidelined for promotion. Maybe we're hesitant to obey the call to go be a missionary in Africa because we're afraid we might get malaria or worse. Just spend some time in self-reflection to see if anything is sticking out that shouldn't be there.
I hope things turned out well for the ruler who Jesus challenged. But either way, we still have a chance for things to turn out well for ourselves, if we are willing to measure out the cost of devotion.
Now a certain ruler asked him, “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone. You know the commandments: ‘Do not commit adultery, do not murder, do not steal, do not give false testimony, honor your father and mother.’” The man replied, “I have wholeheartedly obeyed all these laws since my youth.” When Jesus heard this, he said to him, “One thing you still lack. Sell all that you have and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” But when the man heard this he became very sad, for he was extremely wealthy. When Jesus noticed this, he said, “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God! In fact, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.”
These verses are often used by wealthy ministries to goad people into giving them their savings. But in reality they contain an important truth about the kingdom of God and the cost of being devoted to it. It touches on our attitudes towards wealth and on our views of righteousness.
We don't know who the ruler was who talked to Jesus, but we know that he wanted to score high on the admission criteria to the kingdom of God and gain eternal life. He wants to know what he must "do" in order to be saved. Jesus replies by giving him a summary of the ten commandments, which are a great starting point, but the ruler wants more. He wants the advanced level.
Jesus' response is shocking. "Sell all that you have and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me." We sort of numb ourselves to the impact of this statement, because few of us consider ourselves to be rich. But think about it from the perspective of the ruler. His wealth is either something he worked hard to achieve, or which represents the labour and heritage of his family. If we can avoid stereotyping him as "the 1%" we can see that this is a pretty big sacrifice. Imagine being asked to give up your life's savings, 401k plans, house and property, coin collection, and access to social security funds, and not just to give them up to someone like Jesus but to indigents, homeless people, welfare folks, people who are stereotypically undeserving of the fruits of your labour. Sit and think about that for a minute.
Imagine you have a contract sitting in front of you, detailing all of the things, and once you sign they're no longer yours. Imagine further that there's a good chance you'll lose your job and be cut off from your family as a result of so badly mismanaging your resources. Who wouldn't balk at that?
It's no wonder the ruler became sad. His wealth may have come to define him. He would be giving up his identity, his credentials, his reputation, his circle of friends, the luxuries he'd taken for granted, his social power, pretty much everything. Instead of eternal life being something he could pursue as a side project, now it's a choice between that and everything.
And that's kind of the point Jesus is making with him. Jesus had to pay everything to buy us, so if we're going to follow in his steps we're not going to be able to throw some pocket change at the problem and call it done. Nobody pays the kind of price that Jesus paid for us unless it's something incredibly valuable, and the kind of love that makes you do that desires reciprocation.
Jesus asks and answers the question for the ruler, "Who or what do you love more than me?" It's a jealous lover's question. He's saying "I'm committed. Are you?" He frequently asks us questions like that. He asked Abraham "Are you willing to leave your family and native lands in order to be with me?" He asked Moses "Are you willing to give up the comforts of upper class living to burn bridges with the elites and spend the rest of your life leading a bunch of ungrateful fools in a gruelling journey through the desert?" He says "I died for you. Would you die for me too?" It's not a question of obedience as much as it is a question of love and devotion.
But his question is also beautifully ironic. He is asking the ruler to give up everything for those who least deserve it. In other words, he's asking the ruler to do what he's about to do. He's saying "If you want to be 'good' like me, you'll love people to the point of ridiculous grace." In other places he tells people that if they want to be like him, they'll need to take up their cross and follow him. In other words, they need to be ready to lose everything for him, like he is asking the ruler in these verses to do. If you don't love anyone enough to do that, you don't understand the love of God.
If you've read about saints in the past and present, you'll notice that this is a common point of transformation in their lives. In the middle ages, a lot of saints were wealthy playboys or of noble blood when Jesus appeared to them and asked them to give it all up for a life of poverty, simplicity, serving the poor and sharing his message. One of them even gave up his last item of clothing and showed up naked to tell his family that he was running away to become a priest. (Not recommended.) It's shocking!
The church tells us that to inherit eternal life and be good people, we need to show up to church every week, maybe attend some meetings during the week, give ten percent to the church plus more if they pass the collection plate around for something special, and generally do nice things. I think that's the sort of answer the ruler was hoping to hear from Jesus. Instead we have to understand that all we have could be in play, not just ten percent of our money or time, but even up to our life itself!
And this is where Jesus talks about wealth. It's hard for rich people to be fully devoted to God. And by rich, he doesn't mean rich in the sense of celebrities and politicians, but even anyone who has money put away and likes a bit of disposable income. The levels of wealth we have today, in terms of what we consider to be rich, were unheard of back in Jesus' day.
Generally, if you're accumulating a lot of money, it's because you want it that way. It gives you a sense of security, or you have plans for it, or you just like how the number makes you feel. That fact hasn't changed from Jesus' day to now, even if the size of the number or what it can buy has. Over time, you get used to that security, or the assurance of your plans someday being realised, or the pride of having attained a certain number, and it becomes a very difficult thing to part with. The money itself isn't evil, but the habituation to it, or even the addiction to it, is dangerous to our spiritual health.
So are we supposed to give up all of our money to the homeless and join them under the bridge if we want to be considered good Christians? Not necessarily. It's more of a question for self-examination. What do I have in my life that I love more than God? It's rare that we're lucky enough to find out directly like the ruler in the verses did. Usually it's something that is exposed through what we won't do. Like maybe we don't want to give $50 to help someone in need because we know we won't be able to buy froofy coffees for awhile if we do. Or maybe we don't want to talk about religious topics at work because we're afraid we won't get a bonus if someone overhears, or that we'll be sidelined for promotion. Maybe we're hesitant to obey the call to go be a missionary in Africa because we're afraid we might get malaria or worse. Just spend some time in self-reflection to see if anything is sticking out that shouldn't be there.
I hope things turned out well for the ruler who Jesus challenged. But either way, we still have a chance for things to turn out well for ourselves, if we are willing to measure out the cost of devotion.
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