A Man with Many Things

Proper 23/21st after Pentecost; Mark 10:17-31

The opening sentence again reminds us that we are reading about Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem. Strictly speaking, the NRSV could be correct when translating that Jesus is on “a journey” but the context makes this far too vague. Most commentators instead render this as “the journey.”¹ The Greek word used is odos, way or road, and already in Mark it has appeared (6:8, 8:27, 9:33) with a technical sense related to discipleship, like what we might now call “the walk”—how we undertake life—as well as of this unique journey with Jesus to the Cross.

This passage and the two previous weeks’ Gospels have seen Jesus offering confronting teaching that Mark sets on this journey which Jesus has foretold and the disciples have resisted, or at least failed to comprehend. The difficult instructions about stumbling to the kingdom, about divorce, and now about wealth, have to be read in this context. It does not mean taking them any less seriously; it means understanding that these are not quite timeless moral precepts, but situational demands connected with following Jesus on the way.

The difficulty the Church has had with reading these authentically is clear in the sort of zig-zagging approach of much conventional commentary: of course cutting off body parts for the reign of God is absurd and hyperbolic; of course the teaching about divorce is straightforward and literal; and now of course the teaching about wealth and entering the reign of God is exceptional and not to be taken literally. Hmm.

The narrative context means these together constitute an image of God’s reign. First, the disabled have been welcomed to the kingdom (9:42f); then while marriage is strongly defended, women are acknowledged as having autonomy and responsibility in marriage (10:6-12). In close proximity to each of these points, children and/or the “little ones” (9:36, 42; 10:13) are presented both as the model of community in God’s reign, and as integral to it concretely. True greatness is thus not what the world claims it to be nor are its values readily applicable to God’s people. This group journeying together and being taught by Jesus are guided by another sense of what power really means, where their life before God is not defined by the world’s assessment of their supposed worth, and where they are bound together in love.

During this inspiring and unsettling journey along comes a certain man. While Matthew and Luke elaborate, making him young (Matthew) or a ruler (Luke), neither of these traits appears in Mark (presumably the original). As often, Mark’s account is unvarnished, and we are going to be encouraged to focus on one thing about him, or perhaps two. The first part of their exchange begins with his remarkable self-abasement—he kneels before Jesus, placing himself in a position of dependence and humility. Jesus seems to balk at the address “Good teacher.” Vincent Taylor points that this could be a sort of flattery,² perhaps expecting a corresponding compliment or at least gracious reception, which adds to the humble physical performance. It does not mean that the man is insincere though, but as a figure of wealth (and hence power) he might expect reciprocity.

Jesus’ response (“no one is good but God alone”) then cuts across this attempt at transacting via honor; only God has the resource that matters here. While there might also seem to be a sort of sub-trinitarian dynamic in Jesus’ apparent demurral of his own description as “good,” Mark is always clear enough that what Jesus does and says do represent the actions of God’s reign. So there is an implied sense that both of them are right here; Jesus is good, despite the fact that God alone is good.

Jesus and the Rich Man; from the The King Gagik and Kars Gospel, 11th century Armenian; image from University of Hamburg

The man’s question is earnest: “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” This is the only time Mark ever uses “inherit” language, which does not imply just familial wealth, but the allocation of portions. It does have ironic overtones, because given what we will shortly discover, the man has had a generous portion allocated already, at least in some ways; and Jesus’ response will focus on the thing he lacks. The man is arguably still accumulating and wants to add eternal life to his lands and the rest.

Jesus in response begins the survey of the Ten Commandments, or of the social part, the last six. The exchange demonstrates the man’s sincerity and indeed his righteousness according to the usual standard. There is one subtle deviation in content from the expected list, though: “do not defraud” (10:19) is not the expected “do not covet.” Some later scribes tried to “correct” this feature of Mark’s text, which only confirms its originality. In context, Jesus is pointing to the exploitative nature of wealth in this agrarian context; the man could hardly be wealthy without having appropriated the property or the labor of others (“coveting”), but he might not have done so via subterfuge or deceit (“defrauding”). Initially then this seems to provide the man with the loophole (eye of the needle?) he needs to defend his property. He has not defrauded; yet his wealth is nevertheless suspect, given the widespread reality of poverty.

Joel Marcus points out another shift in the presentation of the Commandments too, one of order: the command to honor parents comes at the end here, apparently giving it new emphasis. This may underline the implication in all this “ethics on the road” of a new human community or family coming into being.³ So when Jesus then looks at the man and “loves him” (10:21) we are seeing an invitation to reciprocate that love, to understand that Jesus is not merely another with whom he interacts in order to accumulate (even to accumulate eternal life), to become part of this new family and community.

Jesus indicates the man with so many things “lacks one thing.” This “thing” could be counted relative to the accumulation of his righteousness, but more so against his wealth (even though we are not told of this yet). In fact Jesus’ prescription initially seems to be a lot of things too: sell everything, give to the poor, and come, follow him. The “one thing” though is certainly the following, not the dispossession, and the other steps are preconditions. This has also been the call the disciples heard and accepted, so it is not merely hyperbolic. The man is unable, however, because of great wealth.

It is understandable that readers have often reduced the man’s failure to some invisible personal failing like a lack of faith, as though wealth itself were not the real issue. The impressive exchange about the commandments however makes the issue quite clear: however good a person is, and however well-intentioned towards God, the only way eternal life can be theirs is to follow Jesus, and that is not possible with great wealth.

The discussion with the disciples that follows does not soften this conclusion, what with its famous camel and needle image. It does add some important clarification, however. First, the story of the rich man is not the establishment of a principle that readers can apply to others, but must apply to themselves. Peter represents Mark’s readership when he indicates that the disciples have left everything to follow Jesus. Given how hopeless the disciples continue to be through this narrative, it is important to give them credit here at least, if not for comprehension then for cooperation. Following Jesus is not presented as a neat and convincing formula for success, even via ascetic denial, but a mysterious and compelling call. Second, Jesus does promise a kind of compensation, not in the terms of “prosperity theology,” but in the consolation of the new family and community—and in the age to come eternal life. God’s reign does offer joy.

Finally, we may all need to note that important statement that “for God all things are possible” (10:27). This does not mean that none of this matters, as though whatever has kept us from following is insignificant. It means that our hope for transformation, or rather for acceptance into the unlikely bunch of pilgrims traveling with Jesus, is not in the accumulation of wisdom or righteousness, let alone of things, but in what may yet prove possible in our lives by the grace of God.

1. The Gospel According to Saint Mark. London: A. & C. Black, 1991, p. 239-40. Cf. Joel Marcus, Mark 8-16 p. 720; Donahue and Harrington, Mark (Sacra Pagina) p. 302, etc.

2. The Gospel According to St.Mark: The Greek Text with Introduction, Notes, and Indexes. London: Macmillan, 1959, p. 425.

3. Mark: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. New York: Doubleday, 2000, p. 727.