Scripture Matthew 19:16-26
Someone came to Jesus and said, “Teacher, what good deed must I do to have eternal life?” And Jesus said to him, “Why do you ask me about “goodness”? There is only one who is good. If you wish to enter into life, keep the commandments.” He said to him, “Which ones?” And Jesus said, “You shall not murder. You shall not commit adultery. You shall not steal. You shall not bear false witness. Honor your father and mother. Also, you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” The young man said to him, “I have kept all these; what do I yet lack?” Jesus said to him, “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, then give to the poor, and you will have treasure in the heavens; then come, follow me.” When the young man heard this word, he went away grieving, for he had many possessions.
Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Truly I tell you all, it will be hard for a rich person to enter the realm of the heavens. Again I tell you all, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the realm of God.” When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astounded and said, “Then who can be saved?” But Jesus looked at them and said, “For mortals it is impossible, but for God all things are possible.”
Sermon “What Must I Do?” Rev. Pat Raube
Somewhere between 1881 and 1882, Francesco di Pietro di Bernardone was born in the duchy of Spoleto, Italy. The son of a prosperous merchant and a French mother of esteemed rank, he was raised with the best kind of education, learning Latin and French and exhibiting what has been called an “exuberant love of life and a general spirit of worldliness, [making] him a recognized leader of the young men of the town.”[i]
Somewhere around the age of 20, he took part in a regional war and was held captive for nearly a year. He became seriously ill after his release. Following his restoration to health, Francesco attempted to join an army fighting on behalf of the pope against the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II. On his way, however, he had a vision that sent him back home, to Assisi, where he had been told to await another kind of knighthood.[ii]
Francesco made a pilgrimage to Rome during which he chose to live as a beggar among other beggars. Other visions followed. While praying in a tumble-down chapel at San Damiano, he heard the crucifix above the altar speaking to him. It instructed him “Go, Francesco, and repair my house which, as you see, is… in ruins.”
Francesco immediately returned home and started to divest himself of his father’s riches. After he sold some of his father’s fine cloth, his furious father dragged him before a judge. Francesco would not answer the charges, so his father took him to the bishop. The young man peeled off his clothes, gave them back to his father, and stood before the bishop, naked. He said, “Until now I have called you my father on earth. But henceforth I can truly say: Our Father who art in heaven.” The Bishop gave him a cloak and sent him on his way.
The man we know as Francis of Assisi spent the rest of his young life living in poverty, preaching to the people of the town, dressed in rags and living according to Jesus’ commandment to his disciples:
“As you go, proclaim the good news, ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ …Take no gold, or silver, or copper in your belts, no bag for your journey, or two tunics, or sandals, or a staff, for laborers deserve their food. Whatever town or village you enter, find out who in it is worthy, and stay there until you leave.”
Today Francis is remembered, not only for his life of poverty and service, but also for his love of God’s creation, his uncanny connection to animals and people alike, and the poetry of faith he composed and lived.
It’s been done, selling all you have (and maybe all your father has) and giving to the poor. There are, believe it or not, many examples of people who have strived to live out the commandment of Jesus in our passage today to “Go, sell your possessions, then give to the poor, and you will have treasure in the heavens; then come, follow me.” ~Matthew 19:21 Dorothy Day, Mother Teresa of Calcutta, Anthony of the Desert, plus uncounted numbers of nuns and monks who took vows of poverty. Nevertheless, we don’t tend to receive this passage as good news. On the contrary. A commentary I read began with this statement: “The first thing to say about this text, and hopefully not the last thing to say, is that there’s pretty much nothing we can do but manage it.”[iii]
Before going any further, I want to clarify. When Jesus talks about eternal life, he is not talking only about an afterlife, what happens when we die. He is also talking about a kind of life that begins here and now, a life in which we are fully committed to loving God and neighbor. Eternal life begins here, in this life, as we are already one with God and God’s all-encompassing love.
Still. This is a tough passage. Most of us have been brought up to believe, and our society has certainly encouraged us to believe, that wealth is a good thing. My parents were both children of the Great Depression, but only my mother’s family knew true poverty and want, the kind of thing that made Scarlett O’Hara declare, “As God is my witness, I will never be hungry again.” Suffice to say, they cared very much about having enough, and maybe more than enough, just in case. Pastor and theologian Sarah Hinlicky Wilson, who I quoted a minute ago, offers a variety of interpretations of the passage that have been used by preachers throughout the ages to make this passage easier for us to swallow, to make it ok, to manage it.
There’s the “Well, the rich young man wasn’t really as good as all that, and Jesus saw through him and called his bluff” approach.
There’s the “Nobody can really keep the law, so Jesus is calling our bluff, and then it’s all ok” approach.
There’s the “Jesus only said this to one person, not to everyone, so it doesn’t apply to us” approach.
There’s the “Jesus is talking only to the rich, and since everyone can think of someone richer than themselves, we’re off the hook” approach.
And my personal favorite, “Since everyone is rich (because even the poor can think of someone poorer) it absolutely apples to us. Luckily, Jesus gives us the ultimate divine out: we can’t do it, but God can. Whew. Off to the mall.”[iv]
Then again, Pastor Wilson reminds us that this rich young man really does seem earnest in his desire to follow in the Way of Jesus. She describes him as “an attentive, devout, open-hearted keeper of a law that was intended to shield and uphold life, yet still ready to learn more from the Master.”[v]
And yet, he walks away when confronted with the one thing that, in Jesus’ Way, is a stumbling block. We feel his pain in this moment, because he seems to be a true seeker. And we feel Jesus’s pain, too. So close, and yet so far.
Where does this leave us? We, who live, increasingly, with the inner conflict of what to do when a person approaches us and asks for money. We, who probably think of ourselves as comfortable, but certainly not wealthy. As I write this, I’m looking at a beautiful painting in my living room. The thought of giving it up makes me feel awful, even a little desperate.
Yes, at the end, we read, “With God, all things are possible,” which isn’t as much of an out as we might hope it is. If all things are possible with God, then following Jesus’s command to the letter is possible, too. What can we do? What must we do?
In my letter to the congregation in the October Tower, I shared information about a Native American celebration I’d never heard of until recently. Nanomonestotse (pronounced NAH-noh-MAH-nay-STOHT-say) is a celebration of peace among Indigenous communities in the month of October. Among the preparations for the celebration, we find this item: Adults spend time in self-reflection…[discussing] how their economic activity can better help others. [vi]
One response to Jesus’ call here might be to budget, not only for ourselves, but for others in need. We certainly have many, many options in this department—everything from food pantries to campaigns for human rights to protecting creation, and beyond. And we may find that giving of our time and talent for the sake of others stands alongside and bolsters our financial giving. This kind of work calls us out of ourselves in a way that can be life-changing.
We are left with ourselves and our situations. We are left with the question of how to give ourselves to God authentically and fully, and to investigate those things that stand in the way of that. Some of those things may well be tied to our prosperity. As we will sing in our next hymn, “Possessions possess!”[vii] Others may be tied to other kinds of idolatry—the things we can tell are demanding our time, talent, and treasure just by taking a quick glance at our checkbooks.
We are left with ourselves, and our situations, and perhaps a brief prayer that I’ve also culled from Carolyn Gillette’s great text:
O Lord, may we have the courage today
To get rid of all that gets in your way;
And may the impossible now be found true:
By grace, we are blest and find treasure in you.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
[i] Ignatius Charles Brady, “St. Francis of Assisi, Italian Saint,” Encyclopedia Britannica. https://www.britannica.com/biography/Saint-Francis-of-Assisi.
[ii] Brady, op. cit.
[iii] Sarah Hinlicky Wilson, “Commentary on Mark 10:17-31: The rich young man: attentive, devout, open-hearted, keeper of a law intended to uphold life—yet still ready to learn more from the Master,” Working Preacher, October 13, 2024. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-28-2/commentary-on-mark-1017-31-11.
[iv] Wilson, op. cit.
[v] Wilson, op. cit.
[vi] W. D. Dudley, “Oral History: Nanomonestotse” in Southwest Intertribal Bulletin, Boulder, CO, 2010.
[vii] Carolyn Winfrey Gillette, “Lord, What Must I Do?” c) 2013. www.carolynshymns.com.