A great question can have a huge impact in a variety of settings. One of the qualities of exceptional leaders is that they ask great questions. In being coached and in coaching other pastors, the value of great questions that force hearers to reflect deeply or differently cannot be overstated. In the classroom, students learn well when teachers ask great questions and teachers can better tune in to the learning needs of students when students ask great questions, too.
In Luke 18, Jesus was faced with a great question. In fact, Jesus was asked the greatest question anyone can ask: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” (v.18). There is no question more important than this one. It both acknowledges an afterlife and also seeks out assurance for what happens to us after we die. This question assumes there is more than just this life and the one asking it wants to be confident of his place in the life to come.
As great a question as this most important question is, it’s also terribly frustrating that precious few people are asking it today. Why is that? If it is the most important question- and it is – why aren’t more people asking it? It would be lovely to conclude that more people aren’t wrestling with it because they are already confident of the answer.
But sadly, a much more likely reason is that they are simply indifferent to the answer. They don’t care. Perhaps some have thought about what happens when they die and may or may not have their own answers, but so many are perfectly content not giving this most important question the time of day. Chalk it up to the same level of indifference our culture has with so many other important matters. Meanwhile, we wouldn’t dare miss out on the “important” stuff like a scathing sports tweet, the latest celebrity hook-ups or break-ups, or some political rant.
But, rather than lament why so many in our society are content to stick their head in the sand rather than wrestle with this question, let’s focus on you. Are you asking the question, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” More importantly, are you confident in your answer? As our faith increases, so does our confidence in the answer to that question.
Speaking of confidence, the man who approached Jesus in this chapter of Luke didn’t seem to lack it. Yet, while he certainly seemed to have confidence in his own standing, there’s no reason to presume he was being disingenuous or that he had some agenda in asking the question. He was asking the right question, the question that matters most. And he wanted to be sure of the answer.
Jesus’ initial response isn’t what we might expect. One might suppose that Jesus could have answered the ruler’s question very simply: “Believe that I am the promised Savior and eternal life is yours.” That would have made for a short and sweet encounter and the man may very well have gone on his way.
But the man would have gone on his way with a jaded idea of what was required for heaven. As we see his dialogue with Jesus play out, the man had a misplaced confidence in his own efforts. And as far as salvation is concerned, when man’s efforts – whether they be great or small – are combined with God’s grace, the result is hell. There is no room in the salvation equation for works plus anything else. So Jesus didn’t give him the good news of the gospel, for it would have done more harm than good. The man first needed to see how much he needed Jesus.
That may also have something to do with why Jesus initially keyed in on the term “good.” Jesus wasn’t trying to avoid the man’s question. In fact, he was likely prompting him to think very carefully about what significance he was attaching to the term “good” in addressing Jesus that way. However, regardless of what the man’s intent was in using that description, look at Jesus’ response: only God is good.
That should have made something clear to the man asking what he must do to get to heaven (in other words, “How good do I have to be?”): no one is good enough. But he missed the point, as made clear by his response to Jesus bringing up the commandments: “All these I have kept since I was a boy” (v.21). While the overconfidence oozing from the man’s reply is obvious to us, based on his upbringing and understanding of the law, he probably legitimately figured he was measuring up to God’s expectations for him.
There’s a part of us that is right there with him. “You know the commandments: ‘You shall not commit adultery, you shall not murder, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, honor your father and mother.’” (v. 20). We’ve mostly kept those commandments, on the big stage, at least. Sure, a few small things here and there, but all-in-all, when we think of how others demolish these laws with their sins, we’ve only “bumped into” them a bit. No affairs. No murders. No breaking and entering or grand larceny. No lying under oath. No dishonoring our parents in a way that tarnishes the family name. See, it’s not so hard for our thinking to line up quite well with the self-righteous ruler, is it?
So Jesus does him a favor and makes a more pointed application of the law. Jesus pointed out that he was still lacking something: he needed to sell his stuff.
To understand how Jesus was helping the man diagnose his sin, consider a visit to the doctor to treat an ankle injury. Suppose you injured your ankle and wanted to see if it was broken. How helpful would it be for the doctor to ask you to move your elbows or your knees to see if something was amiss? How helpful would it be for him to apply a little bit of pressure to different spots on your forearm, asking each time if that hurt at all? In order for him to be able to help you, he’d have to be treating the right part of your body.
Jesus did just that by applying pressure to the ruler’s spiritual sore spot: his wealth. And Jesus’ effort hit the mark. “[Jesus] said to him, ‘You still lack one thing. Sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.’ When he heard this, he became very sad, because he was very wealthy” (v.22-23). The man’s reaction demonstrated that the law accomplished its purpose. It exposed his sin. It showed where the man’s heart truly was. It didn’t belong to God. It belonged to his stuff, and his sorrow showed it.
Had the man measured up to the kind of goodness required for heaven, his response would have been delight. “Is that it? What a great opportunity it will be for me to richly bless the less fortunate, for I have far more than I need. I will gladly give away every penny of my wealth so that it can serve those in need.” For an example of this, see Zacchaeus’ response to Jesus and the good news. The gospel prompted Zacchaeus’ generosity. But in this case, the law had a completely different effect on the ruler. It prompted his despair.
The man seemed like a prime candidate for heaven, based on his own confidence in having kept the law, but now Jesus was saying it was easier for a camel to thread the eye of a needle than for a guy like this to get into heaven. Understandably, that shocked those listening. “Those who heard this asked, ‘Who then can be saved?’” (v.26). Jesus’ hearers must have concluded that if it’s impossible for a pretty upright fellow like that to get into heaven on his own, then what chance of eternal life does anyone else have?
And that is exactly where God wants everyone to be at some point in his life. Hopeless. Helpless. Having the realization that nothing we could ever hope to do and nothing we could ever hope to be is enough to assure us of eternal life. On our own, we are… on our own. The awareness of our inability to be good enough, to try hard enough, to be enough leaves us absolutely and completely desperate.
To those who have been there, who have experienced that, the words of Jesus that come next are life and deliverance. They are hope. They are just what despairing hearts and ears long to hear: “Jesus replied, ‘What is impossible with man is possible with God’” (v. 27). What is impossible with man? The ability to save himself. What is possible with God? Salvation.
And it isn’t just possible. It isn’t just plausible. God actually did it! God did what the rich ruler couldn’t. He did what we couldn’t. He got the job done – completed it 100%.
How refreshing in a half-done and undone society like ours! We hire a contractor for this or that project, and only 90% of the job is done, yet he claims he’s finished. The coworker or classmate submits their portion of the work or assignment that is “mostly” done, leaving you to finish it up. Into a “partially-done-is-good-enough” world, God came in the flesh and completed 100% of what was necessary for our salvation, from start to finish.
Unlike the rich ruler, Jesus didn’t have to fudge the law’s standards just to pretend he had kept most of the commandments, but he kept every one. Unlike our best efforts at trying to make up for wrongs, which could not even on our best day come close to paying for even the smallest sin, Jesus paid for every sin with his very life. And the impossible continued when he defied death and rose to life again, making the impossible possible and guaranteeing our resurrection, too. What is impossible with man is possible with God. Indeed, it has been accomplished in full by God.
So we have the answer to the question we must ask, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Not a thing. Jesus did the impossible. Jesus did it all. Believe it.