An Unsettling, Yet Freeing, Discovery
Almost daily I make new discoveries
in the Bible, even after 66 years of studying the texts in preparation for
preaching and writing. I can't find it now, but recently I read that we should never get to the point that we confuse the pursuit of truth
with the possession of it.
Shakespeare wrote, “The fool
doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.” And St. Paul wrote, “Those who think they
know something do not yet know as they ought to know.” (I Corinthians 8:2)
I found the new discovery in a
text found in all three Synoptic Gospels, viz., the familiar story of the rich,
young ruler[1]
(Matthew just calls him “someone,” Mark calls him, simply, “a man,” Luke calls
him “a certain ruler”)—isn’t it strange how words, phrases, and ideas get
attached to scriptural accounts? In this case it’s not inaccurate. Later in the
narrative Matthew does say he is “young;” Luke calls him a “ruler,” and all
three accounts mention his wealth. It’s just not generally good practice to take
two or three accounts of what seem to be the same story, toss them in a blender
and create one smooth, congruent story. Very often the differences are
important.
For example, in Matthew the
conversation about what is good focuses on “deeds”—“What good deed must I do to
inherit eternal life?” Jesus’ response is, “Why do you ask me about what is
good?” As the narrative develops, it’s about achieving some quality of perfection,
perhaps moral or spiritual. Eternal life is not mentioned in Matthew; although,
when Jesus tells the man to sell his possessions and give to the poor, he adds,
as do Mark and Luke, “…you will have treasure in heaven…”
In contrast, in Mark and Luke,
the conversation begins with, “Good Master (or Good Teacher)…” and Jesus’ response
is, “Why to you call me good? No one is good but God alone.”
Side
Bar: for those who say Jesus is God, in Mark and Luke, Jesus clearly
distinguishes himself apart from God.
In all three accounts, the
quest is “to inherit eternal life.” My new discovery is that Jesus response
focuses totally upon deeds/behaviors—works.
The first response boils down
to keeping the commandments. When the man replies, “I have kept all these since
my youth,” Jesus throws a knuckleball: “There is still one thing lacking. Sell
all that you own and distribute the money to the poor.”
All three accounts have Jesus concluding,
“…you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”
Not once does Jesus state or
imply that eternal life is inherited through belief, faith, or even grace.
Of course, it’s not difficult
to interpret the story in such a way that belief, faith, and grace are inferred.
One does not sell everything one owns and distribute the proceeds to the poor
if one does not believe pretty strongly in the person or the cause that is at
stake. And to follow is, itself, an act of faith that does not need a prerequisite
confession or a sinner’s prayer (and I affirm both confession and sinner’s
prayer as valid spiritual disciplines).
If I have a theological axe to
grind, it would relate to the valid concern about works righteousness. In my observation,
the argument against works righteousness too often leads to a total rejection
of works as a valid part of faith, a rejection Jesus appears to address in this
story. Indeed, the very word, righteousness, implies and assumes behavior
within relationships—how we treat each other.
So, to believe in Jesus—to accept
him as Lord (oops) and Savior—is a two sided coin, one side or the other of
which too often gets forgotten or outright ignored. And it’s not too difficult
to discern what a person truly believes by observing his or her behavior, and particularly
how he or she treats other people.
Faith is not produced by works,
but it is the motivation behind works. The familiar comment from the Epistle of
James puts it, “Faith without works is dead. …Show me your faith apart from
works, and I by my works will show you my faith.” (James 2:17-18)
But defending the story of the
rich, young ruler against the threat of “works righteousness” is not my point.
My point is that after decades of reading and preaching from a text of
Scripture, I discover things previously unnoticed. It’s a point about the
necessity of humility in all things, especially in this case, all things
biblical and theological.
That’s the way it looks
through the Flawed Glass that is my world view.
Together
in the Walk,
Jim
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