Author: Peter Burfeind

The nobleman said to Him, “Sir, come down before my child dies!” Jesus said to him, “Go your way; your son lives.”

John tells us at the end of his Gospel that the signs he recorded – three of them (Miracle at Cana; Healing of the Nobleman’s Son; Feeding of the 5,000) – were written so that we might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing this, we may have life in His name. Last devotion we contemplated how the three signs testify to the truth that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that we have life in His name.

We paired up the healing of the nobleman’s son with the “life in His name” bit and related it to baptism. The healing of the nobleman’s son not only shows us that there is life in Jesus, but more importantly, it shows us how it is true for us.

On those terms, how wonderful Jesus didn’t dutifully follow the nobleman home like an obedient puppy, doing the nobleman’s bidding. All that would show us is that Jesus is a magic man whose touch has magical powers. This is what’s going on, somewhat, in Jesus’ slight rebuke about “unless you people see signs and wonders.” Jesus isn’t questioning the man’s need for a miracle to heal his son – Jesus answers that prayer – but might be pushing back on the man’s insistence that He go down with him back to Capernaum. Jesus knew He was only one man, localized in one place, and if His mission were to continue on at all, it would require Him returning to the Father and sending out the Holy Spirit to “spread out” His presence mystically, so He begins to teach about that.

The sign is, “Go your way; your son lives” and this word carries over distance and effects its authority as if Jesus were next to the son. That’s the sign. And St. John says this sign was recorded so that we might believe Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and have life in His name.

The “life in His name” bit pairs up nicely with the “Go your way; your son lives.” If the “life in His name” goes hand in hand with baptism, which it does, then the baptismal life bestowed in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit is no different than Jesus’ words, “Your son lives.”

Why belabor this point? Because thus far we’ve not really reflected on the intense emotion going on in this Gospel. Thankfully not every parent has had to experience the grief of a child dying, but many have. I remember comforting an elderly widow in her 90s after her daughter in her 70s passed away, and she said her sadness was just as great as if her daughter died when she was young. What comfort is there for a parent when a child dies?

Had Jesus walked down with the man to Capernaum and healed the son, the only conclusion would have been, “Lucky him.” Jesus would have said something like, “Young man, I say to you, arise.” And that would have been great for the young man and his family. But what about us?

Thankfully, Jesus has us in mind as He deals with this man. Jesus had us in mind when He said, “Blessed are those who believe without seeing,” and He really wants to develop this point. “Your son lives” is transferable. It’s a statement of cosmic fact for all who believe without seeing. “Your son lives” is “life in His name.” “Your son lives” is the result of baptism and faith in His name.

The man believed Jesus’s words, and there was that period some time on the 16 mile way back to Capernaum when he believed, but did not see yet. All he had was faith. Only when the people met him and told him his son lived did know for sure.

We too are given that faith. “Your son lives.” That is absolutely true. The one who believes in Jesus will not see or taste death. As Abraham lived to see Jesus’ day, so do them that believe in Him. So, through the sadness of seeing no proof of life in our children – something the nobleman shared the first part of his walk back – we still have faith that “Your son lives.” That is absolutely true.

That being the case, how else is there to live but by faith? Christ’s word creates worlds, and in this time of faith, that world is a world by faith, a world in which all the company of heaven live, though they have died, a world we join in the heavenly wedding banquet, in the heavenly Cana.

When he heard that Jesus had come out of Judea into Galilee, he went to Him and implored Him to come down and heal his son, for he was at the point of death. Then Jesus said to him, “Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will by no means believe.”

Here’s a related passage, from the end of John: “ ‘Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.’ Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.”
Is Jesus rebuking the nobleman by His words? It sounds like He is, in the tone of what He has said elsewhere, “An evil and adulterous generation seeks a sign, but no sign will be given it but the sign of Jonah.” And in general, that is the gold standard, just as we see Jesus saying to Thomas, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

The Lord teaches in gold standards while also taking a “pastoral approach” at the bronze and silver levels of standards. Clearly the nobleman needed a miracle for his son. Likewise, Thomas as a future witness needed to see Jesus.

This leads to the conclusion that Jesus isn’t really rebuking so much as stating facts that look like rebukes. The fact is, people need signs and wonders. The gold standard is that people will believe without seeing anything at all, but until that point, Jesus has to work with the reality. Also, Jesus in fact many times over the course of the Gospel of John gave signs. Changing water into wine, the healing of the nobleman’s son, and the feeding of the 5,000 were three of many signs Jesus performed.

St. John tells us he relayed specifically these three – among all the signs – so that we might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing we might have life in his name. So, a God who works all things for the good uses weakness of faith to reveal truths that strengthen our faith that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God.

The Wedding at Cana sign reveals that Jesus is the Christ, for the advent of the Christ was contemporaneous with the mountains dripping with sweet wine, as we learn from three Old Testament prophecies. “And it will come to pass in that day That the mountains shall drip with new wine.” (Joel 3: 18)

The feeding of the 5,000 is a sign that Jesus is the Son of God. The Lord had said to Pharaoh, “Israel is My son, My firstborn. So I say to you, let My son go that he may serve Me.” That service entailed the forty year wandering in the wilderness, and Jesus assumed that mantle after His baptism, when the Lord said, “This is my beloved Son.” Jesus entered into the wilderness for forty days bearing the mantle and “service” of the Lord.

God humbles His sons in the wilderness, where they learn not to live by bread alone, but by the Word proceeding from the mouth of God. Well, that Word proceeding from the mouth of the Lord is the Son of God, a word becoming flesh, which is the true bread which comes down from heaven! So, the feeding of the 5,000 is a sign that Jesus is the Son of God, a true “Israel reduced to one.”

That leaves the third sign to prove that “believing, we might have life in His name.” Well, that’s exactly what the nobleman did. His son had life in the name of Jesus, who said, “Your son lives.” And that word was received in faith. Believing, they had life in His name.

But there’s a baptismal piece missing. To believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God is to confess our faith, a faith confessed hand in hand with baptism, as in the baptismal creed, “I believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord…” And baptism bestows life “in His name,” that is, the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Is there a way in which the healing of the nobleman’s son is a sign of the baptismal event, teaching us that we die with Christ, as He descends into the waters, and join Him as He ascends on high to His heavenly wedding banquet?

Where is Capenaum again relative to Cana? Right next to Galilee, the same Galilee that drowned the demons as Jesus sailed above and “came to His own city”?

Yes, the Holy Spirit issues forth from Jesus, the One “whom the Father will send in [His] name.” And in His name the Holy Spirit “comes down” to Capernaum delivering Jesus’ word, “Your son lives.” As the nobleman went back down to Capernaum, into the region of death and dying, but in the faith of Christ, he came out a new man, he and his whole family, as they confessed faith in Christ.

There’s your baptism, the second sign.

So Jesus came again to Cana of Galilee where He had made the water wine. And there was a certain nobleman whose son was sick at Capernaum. When he heard that Jesus had come out of Judea into Galilee, he went to Him and implored Him to come down and heal his son, for he was at the point of death.

The Gospel of John is the most mystical of Gospels. By this is meant, lurking behind the earthly scenes John gives us are heavenly realities going on. Let us recall one of the big points of John. It begins with the premise that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. God’s Word was embodied in the Person Jesus Christ. Right there is a heavenly reality lurking behind an earthly personage, and that mystery governs the whole Gospel – hence, mystical.

Add to this premise Jesus’ teaching about the Holy Spirit, that He takes what belongs to Jesus, upon His sitting at God’s right hand, and delivers it to us by declaration. What belongs to Jesus but heaven – fellowship with God, eternal life, blessedness, and so on. The Holy Spirit fills our vision with this reality, so that the mystery is revealed by faith in us. We truly see lurking behind earthly things heavenly realities. This, after all, is the theme of the book of Revelation, and the only way we can make sense of the Psalm, “The earth is full of the goodness of the Lord.”

So, as John reveals the setup for an account, the details matter. Why was Cana of Galilee significant? This was where He turned water into wine. This is where the sign of the new age was first given, where the sweet wine promised of old – wine dripping from the mountains – first began to flow. As such it’s also the beginning of the heavenly banquet. Drinking wine in the kingdom is what happens at the great wedding feast St. John witnessed in the Revelation: “Blessed are those who are called to the marriage supper of the Lamb!’ ”

So Cana is a real earthly place where a real wedding happened and a real Christ provided for a real feast. And it’s really “up” relative to the rest of the Gospel. We recognize this not only from geography – Capernaum being near the Sea of Galilee was lower – but in the text itself. Three times we hear the phrase “come down” or “going down” in reference to where the sick son was.

Because “down” is where the curse is, where the sick and dying are, where those “at the point of death” are. It’s the realm of Hades, where the “ruler of this world” reigns. It’s the realm of darkness into which Christ the light has dawned.

Well, Isaiah 9 promised us that, “By the way of the sea, beyond the Jordan, In Galilee of the Gentiles. The people who walked in darkness Have seen a great light; Those who dwelt in the land of the shadow of death, Upon them a light has shined.” This prophecy founds John’s comment twice that Jesus did this sign after coming out of Judea into Galilee.

So Capernaum is “down” relative to Cana. Jesus promised in John 6, “the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” The nobleman seeks this same bread that the Canaanite woman sought when she begged for that crumb. Jesus had said the bread was for the children, and this nobleman was among those children.

Is there something going on with the nobleman “going up” to the place of the wedding feast in order to intercede on behalf of his son? Where else do we know of a man ascending to the place of the wedding feast in order to intercede for his sick and dying sons? And is Jesus’ slight rebuke of the man, for insisting Jesus “come down,” the beginning of teaching on the Holy Spirit’s role? Jesus doesn’t need to come down anymore. He sends the Holy Spirit who delivers gifts by the word, which is exactly the point of this Gospel.

And blessed are those who believe without seeing signs and wonders. We don’t need to see Jesus. We don’t need His local presence. We need His flesh and blood presence as it comes to us mystically, by the Holy Spirit, the bread from heaven, the bread for the children, the bread which gives life to the world.

The Athanasian Creed makes the point that Jesus is one Christ “not by the conversion of the divinity into flesh, but by the assumption of the humanity into God.” Not only are there loads of good stuff here for the theology of worship, but it reflects the tone of Jesus’ dealing with the nobleman. He goes down to bring up, and if “Cana” symbolizes “up,” we should expect the flow of movement to be Jesus staying put in Cana, sending His “Word/Spirit” out to do its work, and bring the nobleman back “up” to him, even as he and his family came to believe in Christ. Were the story to end with Jesus down in Capernaum, and the boy healed, we’d have missed out on that subtle point.

Healing is not the end of the Gospel – signs and wonders don’t save – but faith is. And proper faith embraces the word, leading to an embrace of the One Who speaks that word. The draw is from “down” to “up” at the wedding feast.

In most of Jesus’ miracles, He follows the pleading parent or whomever back to their home and performs the miracle. We can think of the little girl, Peter’s mother-in-law, or even the centurion’s servant. Jesus was ready to localize His presence for those who needed it because His touch was the touch of God.

In this week’s Gospel, when a man asks Jesus to “come down and heal his son,” Jesus gets short with him. “Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will by no means believe.” The man pleads again, to which Jesus says, “Go your way; your son lives.” We then learn that what Jesus said in one locality was just as if He said it in His localized presence.

It’s similar to the theme of the healing of the centurion’s servant. Like a leader of soldiers, Jesus only has to say a word, and that word will carry His authority.

Now, John’s Gospel especially works this point, about the mystical presence of Christ through His Word. His Gospel begins, after all, with “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” It’s his Gospel that lays the beautiful theology of the Holy Spirit, Who takes everything that is Jesus and belongs to Jesus and delivers it to us by declaration. If in the Gospels Jesus localized His flesh and blood presence by walking to a location, they also ready us for a new mode of Christ’s existence, still in the flesh, but mystical.

The Gospel for this week demonstrates this truth as well. It’s interesting that the location of the boy is “down.” Three times the text refers to the “down-ness” of the boy’s location. Like earth. And if Cana was a type of the heavenly wedding feast – a theme John explicitly works with in Revelation – then it’s significant Jesus remained in Cana and spoke His word there, while that word was just as effective “down below” as if He had been there Himself.

Much like absolution. In Holy Absolution, what the minister says down on earth carries what our Lord up above in the place of the wedding banquet is saying. The Holy Spirit, breathed out from Jesus to the apostles after His resurrection – carries that word, for that word takes what belongs to Jesus and gives it to the pleading ones down below.

That word communicates the presence of Christ and all His authority. His word created a new world, a new creation, for this nobleman and his family. This week’s Old Testament reading is the creation account. There too, words create worlds. God’s “Let there be” brings into being the entire created order. Jesus is the Creator, so as He speaks, so it is done.

In interpersonal relations, how frustrating it is when someone loses management or ownership of his own person, because someone else bore false witness about him, or created a strawman and named it after him. How do we manage our own persons? Generally through what we speak, our actions, and our “presence.”

The same is true with our Lord. Our Lord manages His presence among us by being here in the flesh and blood, and by speaking. His words manage Who He is for us. But how often do people bear false witness against the Lord, by projecting onto Him ideas or images that He has not spoken.

When people do that to us, projecting onto us their own personal images and fantasies, it’s irritating. How much more the Lord! In fact, this dynamic is the spirit of Antichrist, the reception of Christ other than in the flesh, which is to say, other than a way in which Jesus manages His person for us.

Perhaps this is what Jesus was warning against when He got curt with the nobleman, bemoaning how everyone seeks after “signs and wonders.” Isn’t that our desire to manage our Lord’s person? Isn’t that actually magic, the attempt to manipulate divine forces for our advantage? It is, and it’s Gnostic and antichristian.

Jesus manages His person for us, and He does it on His terms, which we learn now in John, means by His Word. This is why the Gospels are so important, and trump all attempts of anyone to contemplate what Jesus “would” do or say.

Thankfully, the word Jesus spoke which communicated His person to the nobleman was “Your son lives.” As Jesus said, “Because I live, you will live also.” Jesus was communicating His essential life to the boy by His word. The man believed twice, first when Jesus spoke, and second, after the boy was healed and he believed Jesus.

We believe both Jesus’ word and His Person, the two go hand in hand. Jesus’ word without His Person can turn Christianity into a do-gooder handbook. Jesus’ person without His word turns Him into a doctrine-less spirit guide or cosmic archetype. The proper faith receives Jesus Christ the person as He is present among us through His word. This was the promise of Christ, that the Holy Spirit would take what is of Him and give it to us by declaration.

And few declarations are greater than “Your son lives.”

And they were greatly astonished, saying among themselves, “Who then can be saved?” But Jesus looked at them and said, “With men it is impossible, but not with God; for with God all things are possible.”

Let us recall what we have learned of God so far in this text. He alone is good. Only He is able to “be saved” or enter life or enter the kingdom of God. Only God can sell off everything, give to the poor, and take up the cross.

God, for whom all things are possible, uses this omnipotence to give up everything and take up a cross. What a crystal clear statement about Who Jesus is and what He has done for us. At the same time, what a crystal clear statement about humanity’s inability to save himself, something Jesus already laid down at the beginning of the Gospel, “No one is good but God alone.”

As we look at this culminating statement of Jesus, “With men it is impossible, but not with God; for with God all things are possible,” it helps a bit to look outside the text and see some context.

Here’s what precedes the Gospel: “Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of God. Assuredly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it.”

Recall, Jesus just called His disciples “children” when He repeated His teaching about the difficulty of entering the kingdom of God for the rich: “Children, how hard it is for those who trust in riches to enter the kingdom of God!” The word Jesus uses here is not the same as the “Let the little children” text, because clearly the disciples are not toddlers. But if you were to emphasize that the disciples should be “as little children,” as Jesus does in that passage, you would use the very term Jesus uses when He says, “Children, how hard it is…” The term here means more like, “someone dependent on another, like a child.” This is exactly what Jesus was teaching in the text immediately preceding the Gospel.

So given that, we get some depth to Jesus’ teaching to the disciples after engaging the rich man. We have two “enter into the kingdom of God” texts. Here are the statements. The first is, “whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it.” The second is, “Children, how hard it is for those who trust in riches to enter the kingdom of God!” Then we learn that with man this is impossible, but not for God.

Jesus has just roped the disciples into the kingdom of God by calling them “children”! What is it about children that makes them the best candidates for receiving the kingdom of God? Likely it’s that they do just that, they receive. They don’t run up to Jesus seeking what they must do, like the rich man, but are brought to Jesus, taken up in His arms, and blessed. It’s pure reception.

Do children give up everything, give to the poor, and follow Jesus? Usually not, but what they do is receive the kingdom of God and get blessed, as they are hoisted onto Jesus’ lap. They receive. They receive Jesus and do not, as the rich man did, go away.

Yes, they don’t go away. They follow Jesus. I believe that’s the critical moment in the Gospel for this week, the moment the rich man went away. He could have stuck with Jesus a few seconds longer and heard Him say, “With man doing what I just told you is impossible, but not for God.” He could have learned how his original “Good teacher” comment was on the right track. Instead, as soon as the rich man heard about giving up possessions, he bolted. He should have stuck around just a few seconds longer. Who knows, Jesus may have given him a more comforting teaching. After all, Lazarus was rich. The other disciples had possessions. You could certainly have possessions and be a disciple. But he couldn’t stick around.

This point is similar to one we see when Jesus first starts teaching the parables. There, we learn Jesus taught parables so that hearing, some would not understand. By this we understand that the disciples are given to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, but not others. Yet, a few verses after the Parable of the Sower, we learn the disciples don’t understand it! So, what’s the difference between those who “hear, but do not understand” and the disciples, who heard but clearly did not understand? The difference is Jesus later explained it to them, because they stuck around! Others as soon as the parables got too confusing left Jesus. The disciples stuck around to hear Jesus explain what He meant.

Same here in this week’s Gospel. The rich man didn’t stick around. He didn’t follow Jesus through to the end of His teaching. The disciples did. And because they did, they were richly rewarded with a beautiful teaching, introduced and hinted at when Jesus called them “children.” Of such as these are the kingdom of God.

Then Jesus looked around and said to His disciples, “How hard it is for those who have riches to enter the kingdom of God!” And the disciples were astonished at His words. But Jesus answered again and said to them, “Children, how hard it is for those who trust in riches to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.”

Mark adds an element to this passage which the Matthew and Luke don’t have. After He first says, “How hard it is for those who have riches to enter the kingdom of God!” which Matthew and Luke basically share, Jesus goes on to say, “Children, how hard it is for those who trust in riches to enter the kingdom of God!”

That secondary comment may seem to give an escape clause, as in, “Whew, so as long as I don’t ‘trust’ in riches, I’m good.” This is true in a theological sense, but shouldn’t diminish the impact of what Jesus says. Matthew outright says, “Assuredly, I say to you that it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.” Very little escape hatch there for “the rich.” Luke says what Mark does, but doesn’t add the bit about “trusting in riches.”

The point is, we have to face the blunt edge of Jesus’ words. The rich have riches, and it is hard for them to enter the kingdom of heaven. We’re glad Mark refined our understanding a bit by talking about “trusting in riches,” but we make the wrong conclusion if we think, “So, as long as I don’t trust in riches, I’ll be OK.” Rather, the conclusion should be something more along the lines of, “I am a rich man; that puts me in a very precarious situation.”

One conclusion keeps the riches somewhat removed from the person. They are something he can keep a distance from and not trust in. The other conclusion recognizes that wealth is baked into the person’s outlook, his very DNA, so to speak. The riches make the person “a rich man,” and that in itself is essentially dangerous. How hard it is for them to enter life.

By way of parallel, it would be like the difference between saying, “How hard it is for a fat man to enter life” vs. “How hard it is for one who loves food a bit too much to enter life.” One can be fat and not necessarily love food, which is where the escape hatch comes in. But if one is simply fat, by the former phrasing, he will always be in a dangerous situation until he sheds his fatness.

This also accords with Jesus’ statement that the solution to the precarious situation of the rich man is to sell everything. Were the danger merely with trusting in riches, Jesus might counsel in a Dave Ramsey sort of way, saying, “There’s nothing wrong with riches, just don’t trust in them.” No. Jesus clearly warns against being rich, and the preventative is a radical gesture, to sell everything and give it away to the poor.

Jesus comes at things from His eternal, cosmic perspective. He knows of death. He knows of eternal death and eternal life. He knows the blessings of eternal life. He knows what salvation is. He knows that it’s more valued than anything, that the treasures in heaven are eternally greater than the treasures on earth.

He also knows the draw that the treasures on earth have, how they deceive people into thinking they can create heaven on earth. This is where the “trust” element comes in. The rich believe they have a heaven on earth. It’s like a contingency plan just encase this whole Jesus thing isn’t really right.

Jesus lays it out clearly: sell whatever you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. And in fact, after our Gospel, when Peter brags how he and the disciples did just that, Jesus commended him and promised a hundredfold reward in heaven.

We could set it up as an intriguing thought question, “What would you do if Jesus came down and said, ‘Every dollar you give away here on earth will secure for yourself, in multiples, an eternal treasure in heaven.’ ” Were that to happen, who wouldn’t give away everything. Here’s the thing, Jesus did say that, in our Gospel for today. Why wouldn’t we believe Him? Perhaps it’s a matter of, “Will the Son of Man find faith on earth when He returns?”

More likely we’re driven by theological constructs like, “We’re not saved by works, so selling everything and giving to the poor couldn’t be what Jesus really means.” And we get to this point based on how the narrative develops after our verse for today. The disciples are shocked at Jesus’ words and say, “Who then can be saved?” If even the disciples couldn’t bear Jesus’ words, certainly we shouldn’t be expected to either.

And further, Jesus Himself then says, “With man this is impossible.” Yeah! It’s impossible to live up to what Jesus said to the rich man. But not for God, Jesus added. And then, as we’ve been meditating on, we recognize that Jesus is the one – our God – Who gave up everything, gave to us, and took up the cross.

So, we might think this is a solid theological construct, that the Gospel is meant to show us how far we fall short so we rely on Jesus. That would be a great conclusion but for one important detail. The rich man goes away sad, and Jesus did say His words about camels and eyes of needles.

Also, the rest of the New Testament warns against riches. Jesus said, “But woe to you who are rich, For you have received your consolation.” St. Paul writes, “But those who desire to be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and harmful lusts which drown men in destruction and perdition.” We could go on and on. It’s not that being wealthy prevents you from salvation, as we see there are rich people in the New Testament, but that it has so many pitfalls that the poor are spared.

The rich tend to fall for boutique and trendy spiritualities and movements. The rich tend to have to overwork or prioritize their schedules above the Lord in order to secure their wealth. The rich often acquire their wealth by at some level endearing themselves, their services, or their products to the world, and that can lead to compromises. The rich often end up justifying their wealth – knowing what they hear from Jesus – by manipulating God’s word.

The proper use of wealth is the proper use of any of God’s gifts, to use them generously for others. If someone is wealthy in prayer, wisdom, knowledge, service, know-how, administration, or whatever, the Lord wants us to use these generously for others. And the Lord knows the calculus has changed from one of economics – my labor has value and must therefore be for sale – to one of grace – you can’t run out of what you have an eternal supply of.

Jesus lived out this truth, and He invites us to follow His path. Instead of seeking escape hatches from Jesus’ words, Jesus invites us to set our minds on things above, where our life is hidden in Christ. When by faith that vision comes in focus, we will see the wealth of this age exactly as Jesus with His insider information sees it. As nothing.

 

But he was sad at this word, and went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions.

Someone recently asked me, what’s the difference between Christian love and the love of unbelievers?

There is an idea out there that the love of Christians is of a species separate and distinct from others. I’ve always had a problem with this because it now places the burden of proof not on what is certain (Jesus) but on what is uncertain (my ability to love others). We end up in discussions about how there are great atheists who love their wives and children, while there are awful Christians who beat their wives and children. Or we end up getting mystical, saying things like, “Sure, it may look like Mr. Atheist loves others, but does he really? Deep down, the Christian actually loves truly, because the Holy Spirit is behind his love.”

This all misses the point.

What, then, is the difference between Christian love and the love of unbelievers. There’s a simple answer to this which puts the focus not on the subjective but the objective, and which leads into the theme of our passage for today. The simple answer is, Christian love is eternal, where the love of unbelievers is not.

The love of unbelievers is passing. It will not carry over into the next life. It’s fleeting, transient. By contrast, the love a Christian has for his spouse or children will carry over into the world to come. This adds an eternal depth to even the little love we may be capable of giving in this world, something to eternally build on and expand on. Whereas the love of unbelievers dies with them.

Much like possessions. Possessions are passing. Possessions are transient. Possessions are nothing.

That’s why it’s useless to pray for them. Why pray for nothing? If you pray for nothing, that’s exactly what you will get. When Jesus teaches about prayer, the climax is that, just as you get “good gifts” from your evil fathers on earth, so you will get “the Holy Spirit” from your heavenly Father. These are good gifts of the Spirit, namely, what the petitions of the Lord’s Prayer outline.

Possessions are like balloons inflated from human desire, from our covetousness, from our desire to take what belongs to God by self-deceit, that is, to defraud God. These balloons then become idols, little projections of our selfish desires wed to material stuff. “That car will give me status.” You’ve just taken from God His Fatherhood of you – no greater status than that – under the deceit that a new car will give you the status you lack. On and on we could go.

We’ve been contemplating how Jesus tinkers with the 9th/10th commandments on coveting. In Mark He replaces the covet commands with “Do not defraud,” and in Matthew He replaces it with “Love your neighbor as you love yourself.” We’ve thrown in St. Paul’s teaching that covetousness is idolatry. Given the fact that this seemed to be the commandment the man most struggled with, a picture is emerging what’s going on in the text.

As for defrauding and idolatry, this is exactly what the rich man was doing! He was trying to take what belonged to God by self deceit. To God belongs goodness. Or as Daniel confesses on behalf of Israel, “To you, O Lord, belongs righteousness.” The man tried to take that goodness that belonged to the “Good Teacher” and assume it for himself: “What must I do.” That’s fraud, taking by deceit what belonged to God. He became His own idol! And when Jesus called him to die to Self and all its inflated, covetous claims, he can’t do it.

As for “Love your neighbor as yourself,” this is exactly what the rich man was incapable of doing! Giving up the products of his human desire – dying to Self – for the sake of others, in this case, the poor. He had no love or others, so consumed he was with love of self.

Possessions are fleeting. Possessions are transient. Every Christian must understand this, or he too will live under the self-deceit that possessions are capable in some way of “saving” him. Then they become idols. “This new toy fulfills this craving and desire I have, a desire I believe, if fulfilled, will make me feel godlike.” What deception. But if we are not careful, this could happen all the time.

Goods, fame, child, and wife, let these all be gone, says Luther in his great hymn. They win nothing. If we deify them, they will be transient and fleeting. If we, by contrast, focus on what is eternal, and on the gifts of the Holy Spirit, we will lay new foundation for goods, fame, child, and wife. Will not such thing be in the world to come? I sure hope my child and wife, at least, will be there. Then why not goods and fame? Lazarus the poor man has great fame, and Jesus promises goods “a hundredfold” in the world to come a few verses after our Gospel.

That’s the difference between Christian and non-Christian love. Everything with the Christian is eternal. Everything with the non-Christian ends at death. Imagine the horror of that. Is that not a horrific way to see hell? No love, because there’s no objects of love, because there’s an eternal inflation of Self and its desires that forever crowds out all care for others? Eww.

But what a wonderful way to view the world to come. Whatever we love here, when not idolized, but willing to be given up, will carry over in the world to come, because it is given up for Christ. As Jesus says in Luke regarding this Gospel, “Sell all that you have and distribute to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven.”

Then Jesus, looking at him, loved him, and said to him, “One thing you lack: Go your way, sell whatever you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, take up the cross, and follow Me.”

Once again, Mark has more details regarding this little segment. Only he among Matthew and Luke reports that Jesus looked at the man and loved him. That’s almost novel-esque, particularly the “looking at him” bit. Why is that added? Why does the evangelist feel it important for the ages that God’s people know Jesus looked at the man?

It adds a powerful human element. We can visualize Jesus peering at the man with love combined with the piercing countenance of a face about to deliver a sadness-inducing message. As we ended last devotion, the new wine is about to make the old wineskin disintegrate. It’s love combined with the face of God, about which, “No one can see God and live.” What must I do to inherit eternal life? Well, one thing you must do is be able to withstand Jesus “looking at you.”

In the Old Testament, that look of God would have meant the man’s death. But quickly after that look we get the Lord’s love. This is the whole point of the incarnation, the whole point of the new wine in old wineskins dilemma. In Christ, the new wineskin, the new wine of God’s love can be contained. But again, it has to burst the old wineskin, and that’s exactly what comes next.

Jesus says, “One thing you lack” and gives him several directives. Now, the point here isn’t, as many people like to say, “No matter how much you think you keep the commandments, you always lack one thing.” And this discussion leads into a discussion how we fall short in our keeping of the commandments. It’s not that this is a wrong direction to take. Paul makes the point about “falling short” even as Jesus does in the opening verses of this Gospel: “No one is good.” But the man did in fact keep all the commandments from his youth. Jesus doesn’t deny him that. He rather says, even if he did keep all the commandments, he still lacked “one thing.”

There is something cosmic going on here. It’s not that keeping the commandments is enough. It’s that without that “one thing,” the creation is incomplete. We need to be careful we don’t embrace an implicitly Jewish understanding of the Gospel, that the Ten Commandments are primary, and set up God’s perfect order, and if only everyone would have just kept those perfectly, there would have been no need for Jesus. No, the man in our Gospel kept the Ten Commandments from his youth, and Jesus says, “One thing you lack.”

There’s your new wine.

Now, what is that “one thing”? Jesus gives a list of things the man needed to do. Go your way. Sell everything. Give to the poor. Take up your cross. Follow Me. That looks suspiciously like five things. Well, we can look at the whole thing as one action, with a climactic action typifying that “one thing.” What is that climactic action?

Obviously it’s “follow Me.” Not only is that the last one listed, but it also accords with, well, the rest of the New Testament, that is, if we needed to make a choice about which of those five directives serves as a lodestar for the single thing we need to do in order to enter life. The other candidates fall short: Go your way? No. Sell everything? Not if anyone would be in heaven save a few monks. Give to the poor? We’re getting warmer, but it’s not like the New Testament is a charter for charitable giving. Take up the cross? We’re getting hot now, but still, mocking thieves take up crosses, and so do many non-believers. Follow Me? Ahh, Jesus now enters the picture, and last I checked, Jesus is something of an important theme in the New Testament.

Of course “Follow Me” is the “one thing” we need to do if we would enter life. It’s faith in Jesus! But faith is understood as “following” Jesus. That drives everything. Jesus drives everything. And Jesus has been suggesting this all along: “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.” Right, because Jesus is God, the good, righteous one we should be following because He is God doing the impossible, that is, being the goodness and righteousness we need to be saved.

Why is “follow Jesus” about faith? Because how do you follow what isn’t visibly present among us, but only conveyed through the Word? To follow Jesus is to (a) confess Him as one rightly suitable to follow, one who is Lord and God, and (b) hear His Word faithfully. And all this is done by faith, even though we do not see Him.

Once we understand Jesus as the center, the other directives make sense as well. If we look at the directives as front-loaded, we end up with ourselves – being a good Christian means giving up everything for the poor. Rather, we should look at the directives as climaxing in Christ, and then back up from there. Jesus is the one thing everyone needs, now lets back up from there.

Follow Him. Yes, this means faith, as we said. Take up the cross. That means die to self, as Jesus died. Give to the poor. Give of self for others, as Jesus did throughout His ministry. Sell everything. As Jesus gave up heaven so should we be willing to give up goods, fame, child, and wife.

See the point? When Jesus becomes the center, we see how Jesus’ directives are really descriptions of what He Himself did for us, which is sort of the point of “With man this is impossible, but not with God,” which takes us back to Jesus’ original point, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.” Jesus is God alone who is able to do what man cannot do.

And ours is to follow Him, being willing to give up all, be generous toward others, and die to self. And, yes, we ought to still keep the commandments, as the man did from his youth. But at the end of the day, it’s the little children brought to Jesus who enter life, not the ones who simply keep the commandments from their youth.

Jesus gave the man a look that could have “brought” him along to Him. It could have been God’s look of love. Instead it became for that man God’s Old Testament look, of which, again, no one can see and live. He preferred it that way. He preferred to stay in the Old Testament.

You know the commandments: ‘Do not commit adultery,’ ‘Do not murder,’ ‘Do not steal,’ ‘Do not bear false witness,’ ‘Do not defraud,’ ‘Honor your father and your mother.’ ” And he answered and said to Him, “Teacher, all these things I have kept from my youth.”

Mark adds, “Do not defraud” to his listing of commandments. Matthew and Luke don’t have this addition. That’s another interesting detail Mark adds. Again, this is how Mark is.

Is “defraud” a substitute for coveting, the missing commandment in the list? To defraud is to take something by deception. Is this perhaps what Martin Luther was thinking when he explained the ninth commandment on coveting as, we should not “scheme to get our neighbor’s inheritance or house”?

If that’s the case, there’s an interesting line of thinking we can pursue. St. Paul several times says covetousness is idolatry. How do we take something by deception in idolatry? Well, we certainly take something that rightly belongs to God by a certain self-deception. We ascribe something to the deity that is nothing more than a projection of our covetous desires, and thereby take our Lord’s management and ownership of His own Person. Our Lord says, “I am the Lord and this is how I ‘do’ Me.” We deceptively say, “This is the Lord,” and that god is really a projected “me,” fully managed and owned by me.

Matthew has a slight divergence as well. He replaces the “covet” commandments with “Love your neighbor as yourself.” That may not have been a replacement so much as a summary of all the second table.

Whatever the case, Jesus lists the commandments in answer to the man’s question, “Good Teacher, what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?” In Matthew He adds, “If you would enter life, keep the commandments.”

But, Jesus just got done saying “No one is good.” Can non-good people keep the commandments? It would seem not. As Moses preached, “Observe and obey all these words which I command you, that it may go well with you and your children after you forever, when you do what is good and right in the sight of the LORD your God.”

What then? Again we’re dealing with a “new wine not contained by old wineskins” scenario. Like the lawyer (Good Samaritan), the nine lepers, and the widow (Jesus Raises the Widow’s Son), the man who runs up to Jesus does so in the Old Testament world. He asks an Old Testament question, and Jesus begins with him there, giving him an Old Testament answer. “If you would enter life, keep the commandments.” This is what the Lord taught through Moses as well, “And the LORD commanded us to observe all these statutes, to fear the LORD our God, for our good always, that He might preserve us alive, as it is this day.”

And the man was truly an Old Testament man. He kept the commandments from his youth. Some would say evidence of this keep obedience was his wealth. Isn’t that how it works? Do what is right, and the Lord will bless you?

Perhaps not. Because now we see how things begin to break down. When the man answers Jesus about keeping all the commandments from his youth, he drops the “good” from his title of Jesus. Instead of addressing Jesus as “Good Teacher,” he just says, “Teacher, all these things I have kept from my youth.”

So, where the man began with such possibilities – perhaps he recognized Jesus as the only good one, as God in flesh, as the only one who could truly fulfill the Law for us! – that lead goes cold right quick. He corrects himself according to a blindness regarding Jesus’ divinity and drops the “good.” Jesus is “good” enough to be a teacher, but nothing more. He’s just a means to an end for this man, a wise teacher to help him on his path, a good guru, a motivational guide. Jesus gave him a chance. He failed.

Here’s another contextual element lurking in the background. Just prior to this text, Jesus taught about the little children. He says, “Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of God. Assuredly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it.”

Little children should be coming to Jesus, receiving the kingdom and entering into it – this contextual detail provides some explanation for Jesus’ address of the disciples as “children” in a bit. Yet, what was the man doing as a little child? Keeping the commandments from his youth. One model of salvation says, “Be brought to Jesus.” The other model of salvation says, “Get cracking.”

Not getting called good anymore… rejecting the “be brought to Jesus” model for a “You can do it on your own” model… if I were Jesus I’d feel a bit slighted. And yet Jesus loved him. Why? Well, the man was earnest. He was humble. He was a Hebrew in whom was no guile.

But He was blind to the new wine standing before him. Perhaps better put, the old wineskins that he was was about to disintegrate as the new wine was poured into him. Jesus does such things to those he loves. He kills, that He might bring to life.

Now as He was going out on the road, one came running, knelt before Him, and asked Him, “Good Teacher, what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?” So Jesus said to him, “Why do you call Me good? No one is good but One, that is, God.

While the Gospel of Luke informs us this man was a “ruler,” the Gospel of Mark reveals he was running – Mark is funny this way about little vivid details. He also has a few other little details. only he comments how the man knelt before Jesus. He later notes how Jesus loved the man, and only Mark has Jesus’ repetition of the “how hard for a rich man” comment, introduced by the interesting “Children”: “Children, how hard it is for those who trust in riches to enter the kingdom of God!”

Perhaps the most interesting textual variance comes between Mark and Matthew. Mark along with Luke pose the question this way, “Good Teacher, what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?” Matthew poses it this way, “Teacher, what good deed must I do to have eternal life?”

That sets up how Jesus responds. Mark and Luke have Him responding, “Why do you call Me good? No one is good but One, that is, God.” Matthew has Jesus responding, “Why do you ask me about what is good? There is only one who is good.”

Honestly, Jesus’ response in Mark and Luke make more sense. It makes sense to probe what is meant by saying “Good teacher,” if God alone is good. The obvious underlayment of the text is that Jesus, being good, must be God. In Matthew, by contrast, Jesus seems to state that only God – or one who is good – can teach about doing good. Again, at first glance this challenges us, and it could lead us to conclude the version of Mark and Luke are more authentic.

But just to put a plug in for Matthew’s account – it is the work of the Holy Spirit after all – it does force us contemplate how even the teaching of what is good falls short when taught by man. This in turn undermines an entire regime of pro-Greek philosophical posing – among many conservatives and traditionalists even today – about “the Good.” The ancient philosophers – Plato, Aristotle, and that ilk – are set up as teachers of “the Good,” and we joining in on that conversation is said to be a worthy project. As far as brain food goes – and as a way better project than diluting “the Good” in a post-modern “beyond good and evil” grey mush – it’s a worthy pursuit, especially when it’s all we have as far as a political foundation goes. But as far as the soul goes, and eternal salvation goes, Jesus’ response rings loud, “Why do you ask me (or Plato, or Aristotle, or any mere man (“mere” being a key word)) about what is good when only God is good.”

Others teaching “the Good” are just the blind leading the blind, sinners leading sinners, spouters of nonsense – perhaps this is why the Greek philosophers never really produced anything of lasting note save ancient philosophy departments and Thomism. Heck, the Arabs fist had Aristotle for centuries and look at them. But dialoguing about “the Good” is certainly good calisthenics for the brain, and again, a way better exercise than the ideological asserting that passes for philosophy today.

Plato, Aristotle, nor the rabbis could properly teach about what is good. Moses as a spokesmen for God could relay the Law, but as far as teaching it, explaining it as a guide for eternal salvation, there was no one, but God. Setting up this absolute, it’s interesting that after Jesus relays what everyone knew about “what is good” – that is, the Ten Commandments – He adds more. Who can do that but God alone? Only God can amend the teaching about “what is good.”

Now to the easier version of Mark and Luke. Why does running-kneeling man call Jesus good? Only God is good.

On one hand, this puts us on safe, solid biblical theology. As St. Paul says of mankind in his climactic phrasing from Romans 3: “There is none righteous, no, not one; There is none who understands; There is none who seeks after God. They have all turned aside; They have together become unprofitable; There is none who does good, no, not one.” Amen and amen, no one should leave a Sunday service not knowing and confessing this. Jesus substantiates this theology in His words this week, but also in comments like, “If you, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children…” The total depravity of man is clear from Jesus and the entire Scriptures.

On the other hand, the Scriptures also teach, “The earth is full of the goodness of the LORD.” This in turn is rooted in the conclusion after the creation, that everything was very good. If no one is good but God alone, how can the creation, among which are humans, be said to be full of the goodness of the Lord?

We need to wrestle with this conundrum because the Gnostics would love Jesus’ words, “No one is good but God alone.” They would apply that to the whole of creation: “See, the world and everything in it is evil!”

But Jesus isn’t talking about the physicality of man, or the materiality of the earth. Everything God created is indeed good, including every atom of every human being. Hitler was constructed gloriously, intricately made. And when we behold Hitler, we see something wonderfully made. Isn’t that why we pray for enemies? Because they are creations of God made in His image?

What, then, is Jesus talking about? Clearly He’s taking about the one thing that is beyond our physicality, our will. Our will is only activated to choose that one area of creation which is “beyond” or “outside” of God’s good created order, that is, the evil hanging on the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Use of will is what directed man toward evil, toward something beyond this material realm. And all man’s children inherit that orientation toward the “not-world,” that is, toward what is not. On account of that, we have no capability to speak on what is good, or to be called good.

But Jesus can. Because Jesus is God. Jesus brings back an anthropology in which man’s will falls in line with His physicality: it’s in complete submission to the Lord. “Not my will, but thine be done.” Now there is one who is good. He is the righteous one who presented in His complete person the “revealed righteousness of God apart from the Law,” the righteousness for which we hunger and thirst, the righteousness which we seek first.

Running-kneeling man was so close – perhaps that’s why it says Jesus loved him. He ran to Jesus, showing enthusiasm. He knelt before Jesus, showing submission and reverence. He knew the commandments and kept them. He even inadvertently knew the Gospel, that Jesus was God, the good man who alone can teach and embody goodness. Jesus loved him this we know, for Mark’s Gospel tells us so! Yet he went away sad.

What a warning to us.