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Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?

Word for Sunday: http://usccb.org/bible/readings/101412.cfm

Wisdom 7: 7-11

Hebrews 4: 12-13

Mk 10: 17-30

If you had a choice which would you rather loose: your family ties or all your possessions? Granted, that isn’t much of a choice because both are important to us. But, in the end, I think the vast majority of us would gladly part with our possessions rather than our ties to the family. You hear of unfortunate folks who lose their home in a fire and with that most of what they hold dear. The material memories, the personal items which have emotional attachments and memories of stories told. But, the family is able to escape and everyone is saved. Stuff you can replace but people are one of a kind.

This Sunday’s Gospel reading from Mark poses a similar question. Jesus encounters a well-meaning young man who happens to be very rich. The young man poses a question to Jesus, the same question that each of us must ask: “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” In the man’s question, however, there may be a sense of entitlement – “. . . inherit eternal life?” It is as if God owes us something? Essentially he is asking, “What must I do to be saved?” but implies – “inherit” – as if God was going to pass on to him what was his due as we may feel our parents owe us stuff as they pass on from this life to the next.

All that aside for now, however, the question elicits a response from Jesus as he ticks off the precepts of the Ten Commandments. The man states that he has been a serious minded Jew – “. . . all of these I have observed from my youth.” Evidently, he senses that there is still something missing. In ancient belief, the many riches he enjoys are a sign to him that God has blessed him for being so faithful but he still wonders if there is something more. Jesus’ answer is unexpected.

“You are lacking in one thing. Go, sell what you have, and give to the poor . . . then come, follow me.” The incredulous response of the man is sad, “. . . At that statement, his face fell and he went away sad, for he had many possessions . . .” Remember Jesus looked upon him with love – he may indeed have wanted him to join his group of disciples but his attachments were too many.

Is Jesus asking us to choose abject poverty before we can say we follow him? Our western modern minds go that way indeed. But, look at the Gospel in its entirety today. Later, Peter queries: “We have given up everything and followed you.” We’ve done what you asked the young man to do so what’s in it for us? “Everything” seems to imply more than material possessions. Family ties have been left behind, the comfort of home and security of regular employment have been set aside, we travel from village to village and risk our reputations, etc. This is no small sacrifice that the disciples of Jesus have made.

Our Lord’s response is reassuring about the “riches” that will come to them: “. . . a hundred times more now and in this present life . . .” But the what’s in it for us question seems natural but still a bit off the mark. Jesus essentially lays the grounds for discipleship. That his mission is so essential that our priorities must be set right before we attach ourselves to his mission. This doesn’t necessarily mean we all need to be Francis of Assisi but we do need to have our attachments and detachments in proper order.

God must be first in our lives. If stuff and even human ties hold us tighter, then we might need to take a look at our priorities. It’s a kind of a “I can’t have it all” and “I must choose between” perspective. It seems to me that once God is center stage in our life, then all the stuff and the emotional ties to family and friends come into its proper order. We can live easily with something that isn’t new and shiny, the latest and the greatest, because we have found that our spiritual life provides so much more:

Each week we gather as Church around the table of the Lord. Not to be spectators but to fully and actively participate. Yet, if we simply leave Church at the end of holy Mass with no connection to our daily lives we are missing the point of coming at all. Here we bring all that we have and are. We offer it in thanksgiving and repentance and then go forth to "glorify the Lord by our lives." By the choices we make and the example we give to others throughout our week, we show that God is always first above all things.

Where is God in your life? I recently read what I thought was a wonderful insight about the power of secular culture today: “We give a nod to God and then go and do what we want.” What about the so called cafeteria Catholics? Recently I heard about a parishioner who boldly proclaimed he was a “cafeteria Catholic” and proud of it. I would guess he is choosing only the easy stuff.

Much to ponder this weekend. Jesus does ask much of us if we are really serious but we’re not just let out to dry. He states that salvation is really God’s business and that with his help we will do well: “For human beings it is impossible, but not for God. All things are possible for God.” Reassuring words if we let go.

More will come . . .

Fr. Tim

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for Sunday, October 14, 2012 | Carl E. Olson

Readings:
• Wis 7:7-11
• Ps 90:12-13, 14-15, 16-17
• Heb 4:12-13
• Mk 10:17-30

“Once we see Jesus as a teacher of enlightenment, faith changes its focus,” wrote New Age guru Deepak Chopra in his 2008 best-seller, The Third Jesus: The Christ We Cannot Ignore (New York, 2008), “You don't need to have faith in the Messiah or his mission.”

[My lengthy review and critique of Chopra's book can be read on Ignatius Insight: "Chopra's Christ: The Mythical Creation of a New Age Panthevangelist".]

Chopra’s statement is a perfect summation of the way many people today claim to accept Christ while actually rejecting him. And although the language of “enlightenment” might be modern and monistic, Chopra’s approach is hardly new. In fact, it bears a strong resemblance to the path chosen by the rich young ruler, whose encounter with Jesus is described in today’s Gospel reading.

Kneeling in respect, the man addressed Jesus as “Good teacher” and asked, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” It was a good start. After all, many people of the first century and the twenty-first century (and every century between) have failed to appreciate Jesus as a teacher. Many of them, it seems, don’t even ask the basic, essential questions about their existence: “Who am I? Why am I here? What or who am I made for?”

“Why,” Jesus asked the man, “do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.” This response is often misunderstood or misinterpreted. Some skeptics say, “See! Jesus denied that he was God!” But this misses how Jesus used questions to prompt deeper answers, and how he offered in his response an invitation to deeper reflection and recognition. Put another way, Jesus was asking the rich young man to more clearly identify the basis for his recognition that Jesus was good.

In reciting some of the core commandments of the Law, Jesus further opened the doors of invitation. He knew—as the one of gave the Law and fulfilled it perfectly—that the Law was a signpost, not the destination. The Law, as Paul often pointed out, reveals our desperate need for God, but cannot save us.

The young man seemed to implicitly understand the incomplete nature of the Law, for he had observed the Law his entire life, yet wanted something more. Jesus then took the invitation to the next level, asking him to sell his possessions, “then come, follow me.” It is here that the rubber meets the road, for it is one thing to give your attention to a teacher for a few hours, days, or semesters; it is quite another to give yourself completely to the Savior. It’s nice to have a good teacher; it’s frightening to a put your life in the hands of the Messiah and to join in his mission.

“He did not follow,” wrote St. Augustine of the rich young man, “He just wanted a good teacher, but he questioned who the teacher was and scorned the identity of the One who was teaching.” Jesus seems so agreeable as long as he agrees with us. It is so much easier to make him a mere teacher, or to remake him in our image and according to our likes and dislikes. Jesus, however, will have none of it, for he came not just to teach but also to transform.

The treasure of earth is so tangible, while the treasure of heaven can seem remote and unobtainable. Pleasure is so immediate, while God can sometime seem so distant. Power is intoxicating, while humility can appear dry and dull. We can be tempted to despair, like the disciples, and exclaim, “Then who can be saved?” In response to this question, Jesus offered a third invitation—or, better, a third overture of the same essential invitation: “For human beings it is impossible, but not for God.” This is the invitation to total faith and familial trust in God the Father, who sent the Son as Savior, and who gives the Holy Spirit as a seal “in our hearts as a guarantee” (cf. 2 Cor. 1:21-22).

Many men—rich, famous, and otherwise—have rejected the invitation. Will we depart in sadness or accept in gladness?

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the October 11, 2009, edition of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)