The Rich Young Ruler, Part IV: “Jesus beholding him loved him”: Love’s call to a poor-rich man in Jerusalem taken up by a rich-poor man in Kerala
[Reading Time: Text—17 minutes;
Closing story of the Apostle Thomas in India—5 minutes]
Review
In the last writing, we continued our examination of the question,
What is it that we desire, seek…lust after…which will cause us to ultimately reject God and the eternal riches (thēsaurós) of His coming Kingdom?
In the process, we found that it was not simply his riches that cut the Rich Young Ruler off from the Kingdom—were it that simple.
No, the darkness of the deception was much more comprehensive than a one-time refusal to “give alms to the poor.” The darkness, as we found, lay much deeper, extending deep into the realm of primordial, fallen desire (khamad), though, on the surface, it was beautifully clothed in outward, moralistic, religious garments.
And this external religiosity, paradoxically enough, was exactly the mechanism by which he could keep his inner darkness from being seen…and confronted.
Again, his religiosity was the mechanism by which he kept himself blinded from his true inner state.
When Jesus, therefore, began the process of subtly yet systematically exposing the depths of the covetous desire (khamad, Gen 2:9-> 3:6) underlaying his religious persona, the response of the poor-rich man is quite striking.
Once his persona is exposed by the “Godman Who sees,” the Rich Young Ruler does not so much as pause for even a second. Rather, he immediately and confidently responds with quite an extraordinary response:
“Teacher, all these things I have kept (phylássō) from my youth” (Mark 10:20).
“All these”—not some—“All.”
The intensity and comprehensive nature of his claim seems to indicate that he may have already defended himself in just this way before…many times before…when such questions had arisen in his conscience.
“No, no, no…I’m the good one here…”
As a Teacher, where can you go when the student responds to your teaching with such a total lack of awareness that exhibits nothing other than profound self-delusion?
If he has done everything in regard to the Law, as he so confidently contends, how is there anything left that the Jesus and the Law can teach him?
The Rich Young Ruler & Saul of Tarsus
It has been posited that the Paul may have been the Rich Young Ruler.
Without in any way validating whether this is or is not the case, we can affirm very simply that both suffered from the principle vice of covetousness:
In the Apostle’s own words,
I would not have known sin except through the law.
For I would not have known covetousness unless the law had said, “You shall not covet.”
But sin, taking opportunity by the commandment, produced in me all manner of evil desire (Rom 7:7-8).
Through the breaking of one commandment, he is opened up to the horror of “all manner of evil desire” operating within him.
Yet how do we respond to the Law’s revelation of the darkness that lies within us?
The Apostle’s honest confrontation with the Law revealed a depth of darkness within him much more extensive than even he—a famed teacher of the Law—was, at first, willing to admit.
Developing this existential understanding further, Calvin develops what is known as the Three uses of the Law. The first use, which seems very relative to this encounter (at least in so far as it is resisted…) is the Law’s capacity to show us our absolute impotence to fulfill its demands of perfect love.
In this way, the Law becomes to us a severe schoolmaster pointing out even the finest points of our many defects. And even if we were to point only to our fulfillment of the greatest commandment,
Augustine argues in the most convincing manner, that while in the flesh, we never can give God the love which we owe him…we see through a glass darkly, and therefore our love is imperfect.
Let it therefore be held incontrovertible, that, in consequence of the feebleness of our nature, it is impossible for us, so long as we are in the flesh, to fulfill the law (cf. Rom. 8:3. Institutes, II.7.5).
In short, we have not, in the Rich Young Ruler’s words, kept all the Law from our youth. For the Law has exposed us. It
admonishes every one of his own unrighteousness, certiorates, convicts, and finally condemns him.
The effect being that
man, who is blind and intoxicated with self-love, may be brought at once to know and to confess his weakness and impurity.
This is the first step, we might say, in confronting our religious addiction (which may be a lot more dangerous than the more readily recognized ones).
Returning to Calvin, why, might we ask, is this the case?
For until man’s vanity is made perfectly manifest, he is puffed up with infatuated confidence in his own powers, and never can be brought to feel their feebleness so long as he measures them by a standard of his own choice.
But when man begins to measure himself against the
requirements of the Law, he has something to tame his presumption.
How high soever his opinion of his own powers may be, he immediately feels that they pant under the heavy load, then totter and stumble, and finally fall and give way.
Beginning to be “schooled by the Law,” therefore,
he lays aside the arrogance which formerly blinded him.
In like manner must he be cured of pride, the other disease under which we have said that he labors.
And as this spiritual cure begins working deep within his person, he can no longer “appeal to his own judgment” in such a way that he can with impunity
substitute a hypocritical for a real righteousness and…set up certain factitious observances in opposition to the grace of God.
Yet this is the reality of performance-drive religion where man is the center vs true religion where God is the principle actor, operating in us through His infinite grace.
The working of grace’s cure
When his (and our!) spiritually blinding disease of pride begins to be cured, however, a new self-understanding begins to work within man in such a way that
renouncing all dependence on this fancied righteousness, he sees that he is at an infinite distance from holiness, and, on the other hand, that he teems with innumerable vices of which he formerly seemed free.
Again, at the beginning of the encounter, the Rich Young Ruler looked almost immaculate. Yet the
recesses in which concupiscence lies hid are so deep and tortuous that they easily elude our view; and hence the Apostle had good reason for saying,
“I had not known lust, except the law had said, Thou shalt not covet.”
For, if it be not brought forth from its lurkingplaces, it miserably destroys in secret before its fatal sting is discerned.
In this way, the Law is spoken of as a “kind of mirror.”
As in a mirror we discover many stains upon our face, so in the Law we behold, first, our impotence; then, in consequence of it, our iniquity; and, finally, the curse, as the consequence of both (Institutes II.7.6-7).
A Beginning Application: From Oscar Wilde to Watchman Nee
But that, we saw, was exactly the point—The Rich Young Ruler didn’t actually want to learn what Jesus had to teach him.
What would happen if he, like Dorian Gray, finally beheld his true self in the mirror?
What would he see?
Better to maintain the protection of his persona, keeping his true portrait locked in the upstairs room.
Better to keep his trumpet ready at his side to sound as he walks into the synagogue.
Better to let his left hand continually know what his right hand is doing.
No honestly; no vulnerability; only the projected performance of his beatifully-sculpted outer man.
Yet while this outer persona, fueled, we might add, by his material riches, would continue to impress those around him, the fact remained that his “outer man,” in the words of Watchman Nee, had to be “broken.”
Why?
So that the “inner life” of the Spirit could be “released” within him.
According to the Lord the outer shell is our own life, and the inner life is the eternal life that He dispenses.
In order for the inner life to be released, the outer life must suffer loss.
If that which is outward is not broken, that which is inward cannot be released.
For this breaking, as we will find, is the only way that the Holy Spirit can have “full freedom” to operate deep within our person, enabling us to fulfill the commands of Love from the heart.
At this point, however, the Rich Young Ruler’s outer man is in full operation.
With an expectation of praise, therefore, he asks Jesus questions that he has already answered for himself. And his ready-made answers, therefore, serve only to reinforce to Jesus his inner state of delusion (prelest).
As one pastor has put it,
“If you hear the Word preached week after week without that Word changing you, then that same Word begins to harden you against the Word.”
Kyrie eleision!
The Beautiful Paradox of Powerlessness
Yet the poor rich man’s self-assured-while-at-very-same-time-totally-deceived response offers us more insight into the nature of how we ourselves can become, through all of our seemingly wonderful religious activity…not a saint, but a Pharisee.
How we can sit in a congregation week after week, year after year, decade after decade, with all of our accrued, outer virtues steadily shaping us more into a
“whitewashed tomb which indeed appears beautiful outwardly, but inside is full of dead men’s bones and all uncleanness” (Mt 23:27).
Terrifying!
Absolutely terrifying, especially as the tomb of our religious life tends to be continually reinforced in many of our religious communities.
And so as we continue this fourth section of our study on the Rich Young Ruler, we would do well not simply to point our finger at him and say,
“God, I thank You that I am not like other men…or even as this [Pharisee]”
but rather to honestly ask ourselves…honestly admit that his same religious spirit so often operates in us too.
Even more, that we are powerless against its effect, especially when its operations bring along with it the approval and praises of men—
“Though while he lives he blesses himself
(For men will praise you when you do well for yourself)” (Ps 49:18)
Powerless religious workaholics.
And yet, as we honestly and fearlessly admit this fact, there is a paradoxical effect.
For in our powerlessness, then comes down the blessed and gracious Holy Spirit, Whose love begins to break through our whitewashed tomb of an outer man in such a way that He releases His Holy Spirit within us.
Leading us to pray, not like the Pharisee “to ourselves” (pros heauton), but to Our Father in Heaven, saying,
“God, be merciful to me a sinner!”
And Our Father hears such prayers and accompanies them by His transforming power.
Transient Possessions vs Eternal Treasures
Returning to the encounter, we remember that this poor rich man had accumulated great possessions (ktēma and chrēma). Yet in so doing, however, he had lost sight of the ultimate “treasure” (thésauros).
And tying all of these uses together, we concluded the last writing with the questions,
What or Who is keeping the Rich Young Ruler “under guard”?
Did his own keeping (phylássō) of “all” the commandments safeguard him from spiritual delusion?
Or
Did his “abundance” of possessions end up holding him captive?
In such a way that the things he owned ended up owning him.
How does Jesus respond to the Rich Young Ruler?
Faced with the poor-rich man’s total lack of self-awareness how does Jesus respond?
Does He regard him only as a deluded Pharisee, worthy only to be struck down with the seven “woes” that He would later unleash upon the religious establishment (Mt 23:13-29).
“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!
For you pay tithe of mint and anise and cummin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith.
These you ought to have done, without leaving the others undone.
Blind guides, who strain out a gnat and swallow a camel!…
Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!
For you cleanse the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of extortion and self-indulgence…”
Jesus does not.
The text simply tells us that
“Jesus beholding him loved (agapaó) him” (Mk 10:21a).
Utterly amazing.
We may see a pharisaical hypocrite caught in a deceitful web of his own making.
And, of course, judge him.
Christ, however, looks upon him (emblépō), observes him fixedly with the grace of His full attention, and therein discerns him clearly.
Again, this is the “God Who sees” here with us in the flesh.
And seeing deep into this man’s impoverished soul, held fast bound by the “malignant passion” of the love of money Jesus does not merely have compassion on him, but in one action that captures the essence of what he—and all of us together with him—most need beyond all else,
“Jesus loved him” (agapáō).
The Commands of Love
But what does Christ’s love of the Rich Young Ruler man lead Him to say?
More precisely, what does the grace of His attentive love reveal as this man’s true diagnosis?
And even more, how, then, does Jesus apply His spiritual remedy so as to break the chokehold of spiritual delusion, releasing him from the control of the god of mammon, ripping out from his soul the thorns of the “deceitfulness of riches” at their roots?
One statement followed by six imperatives in the middle of which is a promise:
“One thing you lack:
Go your way (Hypage),
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” (Mk 10:21).
The First Imperative—Hypage: Insight into the nature of spiritual warfare
It is not without note that this same imperative, if we were to go back to its very first use in the NT, occurs in Christ’s battle with Satan in the wilderness testings:
“Again, the devil took Him up on an exceedingly high mountain, and showed Him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory.
And he said to Him,
“All these things I will give You if You will fall down and worship me.”
Then Jesus said to him, “
Away with you (Hypage), Satan!
For it is written,
‘You shall worship the Lord your God, and Him only you shall serve.’ ” (Mt 4:8-10).
Here we offer only two brief comments:
First that Jesus had to confront this exact temptation in His very own person—that is, man offered all the glories of the world.
And second, that the testing was, at its root, spiritual. The glories were not material; and hence the struggle was not against flesh and blood.
Thus, Christ, when tempted by earthly glory responds in the Spirit with this one word—“Hypage: Get away, begone, depart, get behind me.”
Then follows, not His own thoughts, but the double-edged sword of the living Word:
“You shall worship the Lord your God, and Him only you shall serve” (cf. Deut 6:13).
And when the Word is at work, then the
“devil left Him, and behold, angels came and ministered unto Him” (Mt 4:11).
All this to say, with one word Jesus opens to our conscious mind the hidden-from-view spiritual battle raging within the human soul.
And, at the very same moment, He reveals the weapon that man needs to take up, which will bring down to his aid the ministration of the unseen, heavenly realm.
With this first imperative setting the diagnosis and treatment decisively in the spiritual realm, what are the actions which will flow out of it?
The next set of imperatives given with a promise
The very first set of actions that will break this chokehold will be generosity:
“Whatever you have, sell
And give to the poor” (Mk 10:21b)
Yet this is not a mere tithe, it is a life-re-ordering act. To the earthly mind, this will leave him with nothing left.
But why does Jesus’ remedy require such an extreme and drastic act?
“If anything remains, you are its slave” (Theophylact).
That is to say, the thorns of wealth are enslaving him and choking the Living Word within him. And though the life of his outer man appears to still be thriving, when Christ looks upon him (emblépō), He sees a soul being strangled.
The situation is dire, extreme.
And an extreme diagnosis requires an extreme course of action, as Jesus had already made clear in his prior teaching:
“And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and cast it from you;
For it is more profitable for you that one of your members perish, than for your whole body to be cast into hell” (Mt 5:30).
But amidst this extremity that will, no doubt, force an extreme change in the poor-rich man’s life on earth (i.e. as if he is undergoing a traumatic amputation), Jesus offers him an eternal promise that will more than compensate for his temporal losses:
“And you will have treasures (thēsaurós) in Heaven” (Mk 10:21c).
Thēsaurós: Where is our treasure stored?
This noun for ‘treasure’ is derived from the root verb, títhēmi, which means ‘to place, put or set.’ That is to say, it is something so valuable that it must be set aside and stored away, so to speak, in a secure vault.
When He goes on to specify that these “treasures” are being stored away, not here on earth, but “ in Heaven,” Jesus is seeking to open him up to an entirely new dimension beyond the “slings and arrows” of the “outrageous fortune” of his life here on earth.
Yet in a different sort of paradox, as long as the Ruler is trapped in the temporal, his earthly treasures have locked him away from the eternal thēsaurós.
All treasure that the poor-rich man, and we ourselves, accrue in our brief existence in this brief Age (profit, possessions, property, position, power…‘The pp’s of life’) is subject to change…and in one brief moment can all be lost.
As with Job.
As with the Rich Fool.
Our treasure that we diligently store away in investment and savings accounts can still be reduced to nothing (by a change in the stock market or interest rates or inflation or elections or a hurricane or flood or a pandemic or a war…or all occurring together…).
And if somehow we manage to hold onto them throughout our brief little lives, even with compound interest, all of that still offers us absolutely nothing at our death.
Those who trust in their wealth
And boast in the multitude of their riches,
None of them can by any means redeem his brother,
Nor give to God a ransom for him—
For the redemption of their souls is costly,
And it shall cease forever…
And we will quickly find out that, though our exquisite wealth management brought us a degree of notoriety and temporal security during our lives here (“For,” again, “men will praise you when you do well for yourself”), it completely vanishes at our death, leaving us no more secure than a wild beast in an ever deepening pit:
Their inner thought is that their houses will last forever,
Their dwelling places to all generations;
They call their lands after their own names.
Nevertheless man, though in honor, does not remain;
He is like the beasts (behemah) that perish (Ps 49:6-9, 11-12).
And so we ask the same question as the Preacher1:
Will you set your eyes on that which is not?
For riches certainly make themselves wings;
They fly away like an eagle toward heaven (Prov 23:5).
Leading us to genuinely ask,
What profit has a man from all his labor
In which he toils under the sun? (Eccl 1:2-3)
What, in short, is the profit of all our work and career and success beyond the transient wealth it provides us in this life when we know that it will all ultimately fly away at our death?
The Rich Young Ruler, being in his prime, however, has not come to terms with this question in any genuinely deep, reflective way.
Yet Jesus, as the text confirms, beholding him still loves him. And His love will work to draw him to confront these realities before the thread of his life is finally cut.
As has been said, the “Lord loves us so much that He woos us by destroying our idols.”
By systematically destroying literally everything we trust in to bring us security and give us identity and meet our moment-to-moment emotional needs.
And yet in the destruction, the seeds are planted of everlasting life.
We close this winding fourth installment with a very different story from the Evergetinos, which serves as an antitype, we might say, to Christ’s encounter with the Rich Young Ruler, showing us exactly what it is like to truly
treasure up treasures in Heaven.
A closing story from the life of the Apostle Thomas in India
Thomas the Great Apostle, who was sold by the Lord to a merchant named Abbanes as a servant, was highly skilled in carpentry. He accompanied Abbanes to India, where he was brought before the king.
When asked about his expertise, he confidently claimed mastery in carpentry and elaborated extensively on it. The king, impressed by his words, entrusted him with a significant sum of money to construct a palace in a certain place.
What follows is absolutely incredible:
However, Thomas took the money and distributed it all to those in need.
After some time, the king sent someone to inspect the construction, and when he learned from the messenger that Thomas had not even started the building, but instead had given away all the entrusted money to the poor, the king was immediately filled with anger. He ordered that the Apostle be bound and brought before him.
When Thomas was quickly brought before the king, the king asked him,
"Have you built the palace for me?"
Thomas replied,
"Yes, I have, and it is very beautiful."
The king said,
"Let me go and see it."
But the Apostle replied,
"In this world, you cannot see it now, but after you depart from this life, you will see it and take possession of it, with great joy and delight."
Thinking that these were deceptions and not truth, the king, whose name was Gundaphorus, considering the unkempt and plain appearance of Thomas, despaired of recovering the money. He became so enraged that he considered death to be the only suitable punishment, deciding to have Thomas flayed alive and then burned.
However, the One Who does all things according to His will intervened with a deadly blow to Gad, who was the brother of King Gundaphorus. Gad, who was more despondent than his brother and king over the failed palace, was filled with rage against the supposed deceiver and urged his brother to execute him.
But Gad's death became the cause of the Apostle's salvation: for as they were preparing to remove Gad's body, God, who does not desire the death of a sinner but rather that he should turn and live, performed a miracle.
The soul of Gad was taken up by angels, who showed him the eternal dwellings of the saved. As they showed him these, Gad saw one place more beautiful and glorious than the others, and he asked to dwell in one of the lesser mansions nearby. But they did not agree, saying,
"You cannot live here, for this is the palace that your brother has in heaven, which the stranger Thomas built for him."
Hearing this, Gad fervently pleaded to be allowed to return to his brother and purchase the palace from him.
So, by divine providence, the soul of Gad was allowed to return to his body so that through the Apostle's deliverance, the salvation of many souls might be granted.
As they were preparing Gad's body for burial, they suddenly saw that his lifeless body was coming back to life. The amazed witnesses ran and reported this to King Gundaphorus. The king, astonished, hurried to his brother. Gad, who had already tasted death, as if waking from sleep, pleaded with his brother, saying,
"I beg you, sell me the palace that you have in heaven, the one which the Christian Thomas built for you."
The king, understanding what was being said and realizing that Thomas was truly an Apostle of God, and that the God preached by him was the true and merciful God, was illuminated by the light of faith.
He responded to his brother,
"I am not able, brother, to give you that palace, for it is not easy to find another like it. But I will go and receive it for myself, and I will provide you with the craftsman so that he can build something similar for you by divine providence."
And immediately, he summoned Thomas, releasing him from prison and chains. Both brothers, asking for forgiveness for their ignorance, fell at his feet, asking him to reveal the unknown God to them and to teach them His commandments so that they might live according to His will and attain the invisible and eternal blessings, the images and forms of which Gad had been deemed worthy to see.
Hearing this, the Apostle, amazed at the depth of divine providence, gave thanks to God, and after praying and instructing them, he baptized them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
From that time on, he also baptized countless multitudes of Indians who believed through this miracle (Evergetinos, Volume I, Ch. 3).