Clinging

21st Sunday after Pentecost
Year B

Mark 10:17-31

When you were a child (or maybe an adult!), did you ever climb up a tree or go rock climbing only to find yourself stuck and unable to get back down to safety? I can recall a time when I went river rafting. It was high water season and we were cruising down the river and maneuvering our raft with precision until we hit a rapid at the wrong angle and I went flying out of the raft. Fortunately, I landed close enough to a rock that I could cling to rather than get sucked under by a churning rapid. The guide was able to maneuver the raft as close as he could, but it meant I was going to have to let go of the rock and jump to the boat for safety. But there was still quite a bit of turbulent water between me and the boat and I was too terrified to try it. So, I just kept clinging to the rock. But that was a false sense of safety. I was clinging to what I believed was keeping me safe and the action I was being encouraged to take seemed too risky. But it was the risky action that was going to save me. Eventually I jumped and there were arms ready to haul me into the boat.

Today’s Gospel is also talking about the consequences of clinging to the things that are only temporary security and the riskiness of following Jesus. This story is also told in Matthew and Luke, but in Matthew the nameless man is a “young” man and in Luke he is a “ruler” but in all three he is clearly a man of means. But he’s also sincere. He’s not playing Jesus. He comes up and kneels before him, a true sign of admiration and respect. This man, we discover, has a lot of things, many possessions, and he recognizes that there’s something that he doesn’t have. And much like having to let go of the rock I clung to in order for me to be free and to be set on a course away from the dangerous water towards my true destination, Jesus tells this man he has to let go of the things he clings to in order to have what he truly desires–eternal life. But that’s not all there is to it. Jesus isn’t just  saying, just go get rid of everything. Jesus is saying, let go of these things and use them to tend to the poor. It’s also about the redistribution of resources. It’s about what the early church realized after Jesus’ resurrection that Christians are called to share what they have, to make sure everyone has enough. The assembly of the faithful  (meaning the church) was to tend to each other’s needs, support the gathering, and look after their neighbors. 

There are lots of reasons we cling to our things. I don’t think most of us are much different than this guy. Our possessions hold memories for us. Possessions can be status symbols and help us fit in with our tribe. We often think life is easier the more we have, and tragically we think that the more we have, the more successful we are, that it is a sign that God has blessed us, rewarded us even. Those who have a strong faith end up very prosperous. That certainly was the case in Jesus’ time–people believed that wealth was a sign of God’s blessing. I think Jesus shoots that idea down in this story which is told in three of the four Gospels. It’s important. Jesus would much prefer that we desire the Kingdom of God more than we desire our creature comforts. In fact, all those things seem to get in the way of following Jesus. Possessions start to own us after a while, especially when we accumulate more than we need and feel falsely protected to the point that maybe we just don’t need God as much as we think. We are tempted to trust in our possessions and our powers of acquiring them, rather than in God, for our ultimate security and comfort. Even honestly acquired and generously shared wealth can thus lead to pride. This is why 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. It is hard to let go of the immediate basis of our security and comfort—and the more we have, the harder it gets.

Jesus isn’t calling you to be poor, Jesus is calling you to discipleship. He isn’t questioning your wealth, he is questioning greed. Let go of what you cling to, share it around to the poor, and come follow me, says Jesus. That was Jesus’ response to this man’s request, “What must I do?” “Let go and come and see,” was Jesus’ reply. And the man went away sad. Was he sad because it’s too much to ask? Or did he go away grieving because he intended to do just that, but the prospect was still hard and letting go is risky? 

Jesus isn’t calling you to be poor, Jesus is calling you to discipleship.

Following Jesus truly is risky business. We just don’t know what decision this man made. But Jesus had looked at him and loved him. Jesus did not condemn him for his wealth. He saw a good man who had tried to live a righteous life and yet was tied up in anxiety and concern over his wealth, and with love Jesus could see the struggle. 

“How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God,” Jesus tells his disciples. They, like us, are a bit confused by this. But if you’ll recall throughout the Gospels Jesus is describing the Kingdom of God as a place of generosity and abundance, as caring for needs of those in the church as well as the poor, a place of healing and wholeness, a place of forgiveness and unity with God, a place where all God’s people gather together as One Body to worship the Risen Christ and give thanks. Anything that comes between the people of God and God’s Kingdom is a barrier. It is a barrier to true and meaningful relationship with God and each other. Jesus asks folks over and over to lay stuff down, lay down your weapons, lay down your wealth, lay down your life, to follow him. Jesus is saying, you want eternal life? Come on and be a part of that now, come and see. What Jesus asks of us is not merely a change in our bottom line and to relinquish our acquisitions, but to change our relationships.

Now as we continue in our Gospel reading for today, Peter interjects (of course) and was like, hey! We’ve left everything to follow you! Jesus does affirm this, and goes on to say that whatever you’ve let go of, whatever you’ve left behind, you will receive a hundredfold, more than you can ask or imagine, because God is a God of abundance, not scarcity, a God of generosity not meanness and we are to represent God’s kingdom in the same way. 

Letting go of what we cling to in this world is hard, even painful at times. Jesus even questions those who pride themselves on their virtue and faith. Even honestly sought virtue and faith are dangerous, because they also prompt us to rely on ourselves rather than God. The call of Jesus makes us wonder, like the disciples, “Who then can be saved?” We are saved only when we stop worrying about our salvation and turn our attention to God and neighbor.

Jesus calls us  into a new community with its own benefits. He reassures Peter that deprivation is not the hallmark of God’s kingdom. Authentic community and care are the same kind of community and care that Jesus asked the rich man to promote by giving his wealth to the poor. This, my friends, is what a church is called to. With God it is possible to do the impossible and to live into what we have been called to be and do in our little corner of the world. May we all set our hearts and minds and souls to follow this call of the Jesus Way. 

I’ll close with a little prayer from St. Benedict:

Do not be daunted immediately by fear and run away from the road that leads to salvation. It is bound to be narrow at the outset. But as we progress in this way of life and in faith, we shall run on the path of God’s commandments, our hearts overflowing with the inexpressible delight of love. Amen.