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Why Do You Call Me Good?Our series of sermons reflecting questions from the Bible lands in this fourth week on the one which has troubled me most often. Jesus responds to a question where he is saluted or honored this way, “Good teacher”, the man begins, “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Now there are obvious things wrong with the question, to start out with, and Jesus no doubt becomes aware of this instantly, as we see in the nature of his answers a little further on, but he stops his questioner right at the beginning, instead of moving to answer. He offers no corresponding salutation or acknowledgment of the kindness in the opening. Instead, it’s almost like an attack, almost like Jesus is offended by the remark. He says, “Why do you call me good?” There is no one good but God alone. That’s what bothers me - the content of the response - not Jesus’ seeming irritation in it. In Mark’s Gospel we run across Jesus’ impatience all the time; I’m kind of used to that picture of him. No, it’s not the edge which seems apparent; it’s the meaning of what he says. Is there a rejection of flattery here? No, I don’t think so; something much more important is at stake and the man who is asking is not described in hostile terms in Matthew, Mark or even Luke. Mark even has him falling at Jesus feet, almost as though he is overwhelmed by the greatness of this teacher (perhaps he has just witnessed Jesus welcoming the little children). Is there a dismissal of an intended honor here? No, but the honor is not returned, is it? There is no polite greeting in response; rather, it’s a curt cut-off of the man’s question, almost as an interruption, actually. This is the way that the story of the rich, young ruler begins. [Incidentally, the man is nowhere described by all three terms. You have to read the three gospel accounts of the story to get the whole idea of “rich, “young”, and “ruler”]. After the brief question and counter-question session is over (as Andrea has read it for us) the man goes away sad because Jesus has just told him to sell all his possessions and give to the poor. Let’s look at that, because the prescription also strikes us as at least harsh if not impossible. We need to recall a few things to understand this. First, Luke’s Gospel is definitely about the high priority of ministry to the poor (leaving aside the issue of a possible future reward for assisting them). As to the section of the gospel story itself, we find Jesus in this part of Luke on the journey to Jerusalem where, Jesus is warning, he and all the disciples will face ultimate danger. On the way, on the long road, there are conversations, most of which have to do with who is included in the Kingdom of God. First, Luke reports, Jesus tells them of the Pharisee and the Publican, [recount it] concluding that those who exalt themselves are not included in the Kingdom of God; participation requires humility before God, and other human beings as well. Second, Jesus tells the disciples that children are important in the Kingdom of God, a notion that would be foreign to most of his hearers because children in Jesus’ day were considered expendable, sometimes even less than human [recount it]. The trusting way of children is held up as a preferable attitude to God by Jesus. And then Luke turns to this encounter with the rich man. Let’s remember that the poor are of particular concern to Jesus in his message about God’s Kingdom. In Jesus’ world there’s no welfare, no Salvation Army, no soup kitchen. The poor of Jesus’ day, who comprised almost 80% of the population, it is estimated, faced the threat of starvation daily. That fact lurks behind nearly every parable, especially the ones in Luke; the teachings simply can’t be understood unless we take that underlying assumption seriously. So Jesus’ requirement of forsaking personal wealth and helping the many unfortunate is not confined to this one account; it’s all over the gospel. He’s saying to the man, in effect, what you yourself have acquired denies basic necessities to many others. Until you see that, observe that in yourself, we don’t have anything more to talk about. The man goes away sad; it’s too big a change. He’s too used to the comfort of great means. We have run into this idea from the opposite point of view also, both in the Old Testament as well as the New. Prosperity, goes the concept, comes to those who are righteous in the eyes of God. It’s a reward for goodness. The Kingdom of God belongs to the prosperous. Jesus is deliberately reversing this idea. The humble (like the publican), the trusting (like the little children), those who have no resources; those are the ones who are a part of the Kingdom of God. For us, in our age, even with this economy, this is tough stuff, isn’t it? .................. Let’s look at how Jesus helps the man begin to see himself correctly. He begins by reminding him of the commandments, those found in the first five books of the Old Testament (only a few of them are quoted here). But the man assures Jesus that from the time he was quite young he has followed these to the letter. Jesus response about “lacking one thing” is a subtle way of suggesting to the young man that, instead of keeping them, he has violated the very first commandment, “You shall have no other Gods before me.” How can you be devoted to acquiring wealth and be devoted to God? Which one is in the top spot? Where do your priorities lie? That’s why the man goes away sad; he senses the meaning immediately, and also immediately, he knows that his passion for wealth has consumed him. He can’t, or thinks he can’t, change it. ........................... Maybe we too have a passion for getting rich. Or maybe it’s something else - like, maybe good reputation? The need to be always right? The desire for influence, the push to be the very best? Are these getting in the way of our first devotion to God? Maybe more than one of them? .................. OK, what are we going to do with all this? We, too, go away sad. Our passion has got us; we’re hooked, just as hooked as the rich young ruler is. Can we change, even if he could not? Can we get rid of our “other gods taking God’s place?” The late Jesuit theologian and teacher, Anthony deMello, contends that to change ourselves we have to give up trying to get rid of what’s wrong - because.......when we do that we give it power. We’re not only fighting what stands in our way, what we’re trying to correct, we’re also expending a great amount of energy on our negative attitude towards it. That’s two major battles, rather than one, he contends. His prescription? Watch yourself. Just observe your own behavior, almost as someone else would watch you, with no emotional disgust or emotional approval either. Just watch. Watch what you do, watch what you say, watch how your devotion is shaping your life. Keep looking at it as disinterestedly, and as persistently, as it presents itself. Now, obviously, I’m not talking about physical addictions here; those need interventions of a variety of types. But deMello’s idea could very well apply to everything else, including many of the underlying causes of our beginning to use those substances that take over our bodies. Don’t try to change, recommends deMello. Don’t try to shame yourself. Don’t get angry with yourself. Just.....observe. Gradually, sometimes very slowly, at other times quite rapidly, the power of your problem diminishes, whatever is commanding your allegiance, other than to God, loses its punch, eventually becomes too weak, and literally goes away. Amazing. Hard to believe, isn’t it? I find it counter-intuitive as well; I want to fight might demons, don’t you? Could that have worked for the rich, young ruler? Could he have used deMello’s prescription to merely observe himself? Perhaps. He already knew he was in the grip of something that was running his life; that’s why he couldn’t do what Jesus asked. Did Jesus know that too? Did Jesus know that the man had a lot of time ahead in his life to let his passion dissipate? We’ll never know that. What we do know is that Jesus was clear about what the man needed to do once he was not in the thrall of his addiction to riches. The story ends there in Luke. Jesus and his disciples journey on to Jerusalem towards their own peril. You and I and the rich young man are left back on the road, left to deal with whatever is preventing us from full devotion to God. All of which doesn’t answer our presenting question, does it? “Why do you call me good?” Well..........Jesus is stating here, and in different form in Matthew and Mark as well, a firm conviction about who he was. And, uncomfortably for us, it flies in the face of what we have come to believe about the nature of Jesus Christ. There is no one but God who is good, he says, flat out. Goodness, in Jesus’ day was equated with perfection. And Jesus is definitely not claiming perfection for himself here. We have every reason to believe he said it because it contradicts what the gospel writers themselves have said about him. It would have been easy for them to exclude this assertion if it were not so widely known that he said it, if it had not greatly impressed those who heard Jesus speak, and remembered it. It’s included because the gospel writers simply couldn’t ignore it, even if their own ideas about Jesus were headed in another direction. Let’s take Jesus at his own word; let’s let him lead us to God by relying completely on God’s goodness alone, a path that Jesus gave us the example for. That’s what following him means (after all), a path that is doable in any of our lifestyles, even the ones that threaten to take more importance than God himself that bid to take God’s place. We are required to decide what we’re going to do with our lives at some point, whom we will worship , who will be at the center of our daily existence, whether that existence will be a ministry to others who need it or a means merely to take care of ourselves? That’s what the rich young man decided he could not do. Some did follow Jesus, twelve at first. Some millions have followed since then. What is our decision? Jesus’ faith in God provides the means; “Follow me, he says, even to this rich young ruler.” The breaking in of the Kingdom of God, (which we say we really want), depends on our doing just that. Follow Jesus. Amen.
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