A sister requests an explanation, through the Gospel Advocate, of Matt. 19:17-25, the answer of Jesus to the ruler who came asking Jesus the conditions of eternal life, and the general statements Jesus made concerning the rich in this connection. "Does it mean for that young man to give up all of his possessions in order to go to heaven?" There is much harm done by making the way broader than God made it; but to make it narrower is also wrong and harmful. If God made it a condition of being saved that a man sell and give away all he has, it ought to be preached that way without a shadow of compromise, whether men will receive it or not. But if God did not so stipulate, it would manifestly be wrong to bind such conditions upon the sinner who is seeking God. Now did God require this, or did he not? In the first place, we go for conditions of salvation to the other side of Pentecost, not to this; and in none of the preaching of the apostles to sinners were such requirements laid down. We are not surprised, therefore, to find mention of some rich people in the church--not many, very likely, as intimated in 1 Cor. 1:26-30, yet some. (James 1:9, 10; 1 Tim. 6:17-19.) Then, we have positive evidence that while God was always well pleased at the faith and love which prompted a man to give up all his earthly possessions, he did not demand it of the Christians. Several times it is mentioned that the first members of the church [243] held their goods in common, "sold their possessions and goods, and parted them to all, according as any man had need;" that "as many as were possessors of lands or houses sold them, and brought the prices of the things that were sold, and laid them at the apostles' feet." But when the apostles reproved the hypocrisy of Ananias and Sapphira, it was pointed out that their sin was wanton and uncalled for, inasmuch as they were not at all obliged to sell out, or, after having sold, to give up the money. They were free in this thing, and, had they so chosen, could have kept their property or money. (Acts 5:4.) This, then, shows that God has laid down no such condition of salvation, and that a man can be a faithful child of God while yet possessor of houses, lands, and riches.

      Now as for the rich ruler--it seems, indeed, that when he asked Jesus concerning the way of life, he had come not so much for information as for approbation. He was a fine specimen of manhood, and, likely, he knew it. He was of a first-class family, for he was a ruler. He was wealthy. He had been well brought up. Like Paul, he was, "as teaching the righteousness which is in the law, . . blameless." He even recognized the moral greatness of Jesus, and longed, perhaps, to get a word of attestation to his own goodness from such a source as that. He was confident in his own character that Jesus would approve of him. And when he came and knelt to Jesus and the flush of self-conscious virtue mantled his cheek, and, naive as a child, he asked, as it were, "Lord, now what is the matter with me? Am not I about all right?"--Jesus looked on him and loved him. Jesus loved them all, all sinners, and all men. But being man himself, he was not beyond that peculiar human attraction that we feel [244] toward certain persons. I do not know why we commonly call this man the rich "young" ruler, unless it be that we, too, feel the freshness and simplicity and frankness of his nature, such as is rarely found except in youth; that cocksure self-confidence; that frank, lovable self-conceit. Jesus loved him. That he took him in at the first glance goes without saying. His first word of answer shows that. But with all his charming, childlike manner, the man was in a bad condition, if for nothing more than his self-complacency, which thing is death to all growth, aspiration, or further hope. He must be got out of this. "Good Master"--"Why do you call me good? Only one is good and that is God." An awful shock at the very outset! Now I have all this while considered myself good, and was content to be called so; and here is this wonderful Jesus himself, who, although no one could convict him of any sin, is unwilling to be called good! "Thou knowest the commandments," continues Jesus. He feels better now. These he has kept from his youth. Ah, blind man, who but the Son of God has ever kept them? You kept them--yes, as men judge; outwardly, in overt act and deed. But what of the heart? Was it perfect toward God? Or, if not, can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit? What of the first and greatest commandment of all--"Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength?" O, the law! What can it do but to show us how far we fall short of the glory of God, to condemn us and prove us sinners and bring us under the curse? Paul did well to cast away, among other things, that righteousness of his which was of the law, in which he was "blameless," so that he might gain Christ and be clothed with that righteousness which is of God by faith in Jesus Christ! (Phil. 3:6-9.) But this man said he kept it all! Jesus did not dispute it. If we could read [245] between the lines now, it would be something like this: "If you have kept it all, why are you here asking me for the way of life? Are you dissatisfied? Do you realize a lack? Well, if you sincerely would be perfect, if it really is your supreme desire to be all God wants you to be, you can attain it--through me. But your money is in the way. Your heart cleaves to it. It is, in fact, the source of your pride and complacency As a good man, you would not stand back on any expense of earthly things when it is a question of coming to God. So go, sell what you have and give it to the poor; and then, with hands free to take God's work, and a heart disentangled from the world, come follow me." But he--went away--very sorrowful. Jesus had unerringly laid his finger on the diseased spot. It was the great Physician's diagnosis. But the patient would not abide the treatment. He went away--not healed, not joyful, as he might have gone. Ah, yes--the sorrow of our lives comes from refusing the loving demands of Jesus; for what man was ever glad to have said him, Nay? And let us never have the presumption of praying a prayer like that in Ps. 139:23, 24, unless we be willing to do according as we have prayed. For his eyes are as flaming fire, and they search the reins and the hearts.

      But what was it that Jesus said here about the rich in general? It sounds hard--so hard, in fact, that in order to soften the impact of the thunderbolt; somebody has gone to work and padded it, and invented the well-known myth of the needle's eye being a little narrow gate that a camel might crawl through on its knees--all of which has not the remotest foundation in fact, and was gotten up for the obvious purpose of mitigating things. It was not a difficulty Jesus sets forth in Matt. 19:24, [246] but a human impossibility; and the "explanation" of it, if any be needed, is not found in making allowances and fabricating stories about little gates called "needle's eyes," but rather in the words of Jesus themselves, where he says later: "With men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible." (Matt. 19:26.) For the grace of God through the loving power of the message of Christ can accomplish that which by the law and humanly speaking had been otherwise impossible--to turn a rich man's heart away from his riches unto God and to make him act according to the teachings in 1 Tim. 6:17-19. It has occurred often, and will probably occur again. But every time it is a marvel.

      Jerome K. Jerome divides the human family into two classes--those who are rich and those who want to be. If there be any third class, he thinks, they are not worth considering. That sets forth the condition and the sentiment of the world splendidly. But God's classification is otherwise. There are the rich, hardly worth considering from the view point of the kingdom of God; and those who are "minded to be rich," of whom he says that they "fall into a temptation and a snare and many foolish and hurtful lusts, such as drown men in destruction and perdition," and that by this means some "have been led astray from the faith and have pierced themselves through with many sorrows." 1 Tim. 6:9, 10.) But the third class, of which the world indeed takes little account, are they who have treasure in heaven, to whom God is an exceeding great reward; who, loving neither the world nor the things that are therein, are taught to avoid even the anxiety for daily bread and clothing and shelter, by casting such care on the Father, lest out of it spring covetousness and the service of mammon, which is the world's great idolatry.

      Money is a dangerous thing. Not just the love of it, for the love of it almost regularly comes with the money [247] itself. The widow who of her penury cast in all the living she had was freer to do such service and make that sacrifice than the wealthy Pharisee. Money generally binds your hands. It gives you less power instead of more. It diminishes your love; it reduces your benevolence and your will to do and to give. The richer you get, the poorer you become; not only spiritually, toward God, but often in actual fact here and now. When you had but one dollar in the world, how readily you gave half of it or all of it to some work of love, some brother in need! When you had ten dollars you could still part with two or three gladly. But you got a hundred, and thought you were wonderfully liberal when you handed out ten; and when it was a thousand, you considered fifty a great amount to give; and when you had ten thousand you gave a hundred and felt like a saint over it. So as money increased your gifts decreased; from a hundred per cent and fifty per cent you dropped down to twenty, from twenty to ten, then to five, then to one per cent. Tell me, why does a man do that? Is it not that money appeals to the accumulative instinct and possession stimulates the desire to possess? And this becomes a parasite vine that twines around the tree and sucks its sap and smothers its life until some spring, when all the trees are budding, the vine clad victim's branches remain dry and bare. So is the heart that is accursed with the love of money.

      How hardly shall the rich enter! They have grown so independent of God, they do not need him; so bored with every excitement and pleasure that they long not for the peace and joy which are not of this world; so surfeited with every entertainment that the gospel is too insufferably dry and wearisome; so conceited and proud as to preclude all submission and repentance; so avaricious that their money becomes not a blessing to their fellows, [248] as it ought to be, but a weight about their own necks to sink them forever. To most of us, no matter how different it seems to us, a considerable sum of money would become a most effective curse. And the fact that there are among us some rich who live unto God and serve him with their lives and belongings is one of the marvels of God's grace.

[TAG 243-249]