Camels, Needles, and Possibilities

John Killinger, in his book The Real Way to Personal Fulfillment, tells the story of how he once heard a man describe two paintings that hung side-by-side in his home. More than forty years later, that story still haunted Killinger… even through he never saw the paintings the man described.  One painting was an artist’s rendering of the wealthy man described by Jesus in Luke 12… the man whose crops produced so abundantly that he tore down his barns to build bigger ones.  That man told himself that he had finally stored enough that he could “eat, drink, and be merry,” not realizing that his time on this earth was at an end.  That painting was entitled, "The Failure that Looked Like Success."  The other painting was the artist’s rendition of the crucifixion… the lonely figure of Jesus dying on the cross, a crown of thorns on his head, crude nails in his hands, and no friends by his side. That painting was entitled, "The Success that Looked Like Failure."

Every culture has its own definition of success and, for ours, the picture of success looks more like the first painting than the second… as is evidenced by our culture’s often quoted standard of measurement: “He who dies with the most toys wins.”  Somewhere, deep within us, we would all like to be successful and feel as though we had accomplished much in our lifetime.  Unfortunately, if we listen to the stories that Jesus tells and draw our inspiration from his ministry, we realize that, as Christians, success is not defined by the accumulation of wealth and possessions, but by what we give to others.  With that comes the realization that we can never make a significant dent in this world’s needs… even if we devoted every remaining minute of our lives… and every dollar we earn… to the task.

We call the man in this story the rich, young ruler… though there is really nothing in scripture that says he is young and only the gospel of Luke calls him a ruler.  He is wealthy… or has many possessions, which in most societies translates into wealth… and the assumption is that with wealth comes power and thus, this man must rule over something… or someone.  This man comes with the earnest question, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” and Jesus begins to quote, from Hebrew scripture… from the law of Moses, all the requirements of the commandments given by God.  The man says that he has observed all these from his youth… his childhood.   Perhaps, that is why we think he is young… for most of us who are older know that it is impossible to keep all of the commandments God has given, as hard as we try.  But this man has tried to keep all of the commandments and he now wonders whether that is enough.  So, he comes to this new rabbi, asking the question he has probably asked of others. “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”

Our text tells us that Jesus, looking at him… and the Greek word tells us that he sees beyond the man’s outward appearance to the intent of his heart…, loved him.  This is the only time… in all of the gospels… that we are told that Jesus loved someone.  Yes, John claimed to be the disciple whom Jesus loved.  And when Mary and Martha sent for Jesus to come to the bedside of Lazarus, they named Lazarus as one whom Jesus loved.  Apart from these, this rich man is named as one whom Jesus loved.  Why?  Perhaps, because Jesus knew that this man was seeking the truth with all his heart and, yet, Jesus also knew that… as close as he was to the truth… he would not find it, for there was one obstacle that he could not overcome… his love for his own possessions.

I tried to think of an illustration of a person being separated from something they treasure in life and the only illustration that came to mind was Linus and his blanket.   Of course, on the evening news, we almost daily confront video footage of people who have lost all that they have… people coping with disastrous flooding in the Philippines… refugees displaced by war in the Sudan… but there is little that brings their pain home to us.  I saw a photograph this week of a woman and child sitting on the ground on one side of a barbed wire fence.  On the other side of the fence was their home… forever out of reach to them because of a political solution crafted by those who never had to meet that woman or know her pain.   As much as she grieved the loss of her home, a far more valuable possession sat on the ground beside her… her child.  And yet, in the photograph, we see no joy that she is with her child… only her longing for that which was unattainable… her home and all her possessions that now existed within sight, but out of reach.

And so this wealthy man turns and walks away… grieving, because what he wanted was also within sight, but out of reach… for he could not do what Jesus asked of him.  Jesus then tells his disciples that it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven.  But was he really talking about us?  Is it fair to call us rich?   According to itinerant preacher and founder of the Methodist chuch, John Wesley, it is. He said that the word "rich" in the Bible means to have the necessities of life… food, shelter, and clothing… and then something left over. And most of us fit that category. But the true curse of our possessions is not their existence in our lives, it is their capacity to steal our hearts and souls.  It is the importance that they assume in our lives.

Mom and I are struggling now with the knowledge that we have too much “stuff”… and trying to decide what “stuff” we don’t need.  The reality is that we don’t need most of that “stuff,” so the question changes to become “what can we bear to part with”… which is a different question entirely. But this, then, becomes our “Garage Sale Paralysis.”  There is the “stuff” which adds to our comfort and our entertainment… which we don’t need, but we would miss if it were not there. Then there is the “stuff” which evokes memories of times, places and people we have known… which seems a betrayal of those things and those people if we let it go.  And, finally, there are all those things… that “stuff”… we are saving because… and my Dad was famous for this… some day, we will need it… from bits of twine and rubber bands and bricks… to chairs and beds and pots and pans.   Next week… for the first time in the five years we have lived here… every bed in that house will be full.  My sister, my brother and my son will all be here… occupying the garage apartment, the guest bedroom, and the fifth bed… and some of you know where that is.  How long will we have to wait for that to happen again?  And, since it has happened once, does that justify holding on to all those things?  And, if we have used all of our beds once, does that mean that we will, indeed, use all those other things we are saving as well.  Seriously, how can we part with any of it?

And yet, at some point, we realize that the maintenance of our possessions robs us of the opportunity to do other things with our time and our money… and distracts us from things that, in the long run, might be more precious to us than all these things we have been hoarding all these years.  Just as, on a small scale, we realize that it takes time to dust all those collectibles that sit on a shelf… it also takes more time to clean a larger room… to mow a larger yard...  and more money… to heat a larger home… to clean and store the clothes we never wear.   As I write this, I look at a television set in my bedroom that is collecting dust… yet I faithfully pay the bill for the cable modem for that television set each month… just in case I should ever want to use it.  We’ve all heard stories of those who gave up television and rediscovered conversation with family members… or renewed friendships that had withered from years of neglect.  While we are all inspired by such stories, few of us have the will or the courage to follow their example.

There have been countless attempts to make this scripture palatable to those who hear it.  There is the translator of the King James Version who added a few words “how hard it is for those who trust in riches to enter the kingdom of God.”  There is the preacher who told his flock that Jesus omnisciently perceived that wealth was this particular man’s weakness and, thus, we are only to focus on our particular weakness.  And there is the historian who claimed that one of the gates of Jerusalem was named the “eye of the needle” for its narrowness and that camels could only enter if they had no baggage.  The reality is that there is no such gate.

Bluntly, there is no way to soften the message of this text… just as there is no way to soften the “Beatitudes” given in the fifth chapter of Matthew.  Jesus is gives a vivid example that brings the unpalatable reality home to his hearers… and to us.  The kingdom of God is simply unattainable… for anyone.   Without God, there is nothing we can do that will insure our entry into that kingdom.  Some of you may recall a moral principle that was first captured on paper by Stephen Grellet, a Quaker missionary who came to this country around the time that it was founded.  Often erroneously attributed to William Penn, an associate of his, the principle reads as follows: "I expect to pass through this world but once. Any good thing, therefore, that I can do or any kindness I can show to any fellow human being let me do it now. Let me not defer nor neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again."   This is certainly a worthwhile objective and moral compass for our lives, but… like the rich man who had obeyed all of God’s commandments from his youth… it carries with it no guarantee of salvation.  There is simply no way that we can earn our way into the kingdom of God.

Our only hope lies in other stories that Jesus told… the story of the shepherd who found one lost sheep… the story of the woman who found one lost coin.  And, at the point when we feel most discouraged by our feeble efforts to live a Christian life, we see again the image of our Savior on the cross… juxtaposed with the image of the man who built bigger barns and told himself to “eat, drink and be merry”… and we remember that our salvation does not depend upon anything what we do, but upon the unmerited grace of God.  It is then that we realize that our greatest hope… our only hope… and the hope of the rich man whom Jesus loved… lies in Jesus Christ himself… not in the example of his ministry, but in his willingness to lay down his life for our salvation.    There is no greater reason for us to make a joyful noise to the Lord… to worship the Lord with gladness and come into his presence with singing.  For the Lord is God. It is he that made us, and we are his.  We are his people and the sheep of his pasture. For this, we enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise. We give thanks to him, bless his name.  And yes, when we are down and our souls are weary, we cling to him… for it is from him that our salvation comes.  God is able to raise us up to stand on mountains.  Indeed, the Lord is good.  His steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations.  Therefore, “nothing in my hand I bring… only to thy cross I cling.”  Amen.

Mark 10:17-31