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Tuesday, November 10, 2015

November 8, 2015 Mark 10:17-31



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? 
No one 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 father and mother.’” 

The man said to Jesus,
“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 the man heard this,
he was shocked and went away grieving, 
for he had many possessions. 

SERMON (Rev. Katy Nicole)

I wonder how the man asked the question, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Did he ask it in way that conveyed he already knew the answer? That the checklist of not to murder, not to commit adultery, not to steal or slander, had been accomplished since his youth. Did he say it with pride and that was why Jesus looking at him loved him and said, “You lack one thing.” Is that why when the man heard this he was shocked and went away grieving, had he thought he had done enough. Had he thought he followed every rule, and then realized he had forgotten the golden one. 

Or perhaps, did the man ask the question, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Did he ask it in a way that was scared of what the answer might be. Was it one of those answers that deep down he knew. Did he merely have to look around his house, and then look outside to see the discrepancy between the haves and the have nots? Was it something that had been nudging him, and now, in the moment with the Good Teacher, compelled him? Was he not at all surprised to be told, “go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor,” was his grief instead the shock of being told exactly what he didn’t want to hear? 

Today? years later, the scripture asks us the same question, and I wonder if we are surprised. Having kept those commandments quite well, did we think we have lived a good life and believed we are righteous by our merit alone? Did we try to alter the text, and say such things as, “I think it speaking of priorities,” and therefore excuse ourselves from the radical nature of giving away for all we have worked? Or do we get it, and are shocked at the new checklist of all we have to give away. If we were to line up everything we own in front of our door, how long would the line stretch, and would this be the first time we have looked at its conglomeration, it’s rich excess? Would be shocked, or do we already know what’s there?

Are you like me, does this scripture come as no surprise, is its presence routine like a ever present reminder of the still more there is to do? When there is that extra little something in our shopping bag does it also bring guilt as it pulled out and placed among the myriad of other things? Do we hear Jesus’ admonition and walk away sulking because though we kept the bigger commandments, this most pervasive one has snuck in as a new this, or just a little that. Are we to scared to line up our belongings outside our door because we already know the shame of having too much when others have so little. Likewise if we lined out our time, our calendar, do we spend it seeking the treasures on earth, or is it lived in the treasures of heaven of the action of the golden rule?

I am not sure which one each of you are, if you hear this scripture and are shocked by its radical charge, or if you are constantly reminded to reassess. Either way, the charge is humanly impossible, and we get lost from where to start and cannot imagine where to end. The scripture doesn’t tell us what the man does, if he goes home and begins, or never starts, and if he starts, to whom he begin to give, and how long does he keep on giving? Jesus didn’t tell him how, or how long. Instead he looked on him with love, and I imagine him looking upon us the same, that standing beside our hoarding lines of stuff stretching down the street from our front door, he looks on us with love, and asks us to come follow him, to leave those treasures. And I wonder if I could do it, if I could walk away from everything I own, for all my years of accumulation, and walk on down ninth street and follow him. But I will tell you, the times Jesus has looked on me with love, I would. I would do it for the frivouslness of joy, for the spontaneousness of laughter, for the depth of thankfulness, for the satisfaction of justice, for the encompassing of love. He has looked at us with love, and with it our shock or reminder, he is saying follow. It is ours now, to tell the beginning of how we shed our earthly treasures, and of the treasures we have found in following him. The treasure of being looked upon with love. Which story will we tell?