Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 143

How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!" 

Anthropologist Agustin Fuentes, in his book about the evolution of the human species, The Creative Spark, suggests that the emergence of cities and the development of specialized labor created the ever widening gap between the wealthy and the poor. Individuals responsible for storing and preserving stores of food developed records to account for income and outgo. But few could read or understand their accounts. In good times and bad, these specialists could protect their families and themselves against want -- and who would blame them for that?

It's no surprise that bankers are often wealthy, since they hold everyone's treasure. But money is a kind of fluid; currency ebbs and flows with the economic currents. But water is also a fluid, and people who manage water mains are not known to keep extra supplies of water for themselves and their loved ones. Why are bankers permitted that freedom with the common fund of currency? I suppose it's because they can. Because they always have. Because only "Communists" have ever raised the question or challenged the system.

Today's gospel concerns the tragedy of a wealthy man who rushes up to Jesus, all in a hurry to be saved. Like the disciples who wanted to seat at his right and left hand, this fellow has no idea what he is asking. Nor is he remotely prepared for the answer.

We're not told what his conception of "eternal life" might be. He seems to know that some people might not enjoy that blessed opportunity, and that there is something he should do to inherit it. Can he be adopted by someone who owns, manages, or distributes eternal life out of some heavenly store? Can he count eternal life among his assets, and listed in his portfolio? 

Jesus answers the young man very directly; he must liquidate his assets, pour it into the bottomless cistern of human need where not one fluid penny can be retrieved, and follow the Lord. 

His immediate decision to leave Jesus indicates he had assumed the prize was not very costly, nor the road very difficult. He'd only heard it was something wonderful and might be obtained for the asking. 

The story is tragic. There can be no doubt about that as we see how Jesus loved the man and was saddened by his departure. Not everyone whom Jesus (or God) loves will enjoy eternal life. 

Witnessing the man's regret, Jesus said, "How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God! And the disciples were amazed at his words."

They had not really thought about what they had signed up for. Perhaps some still had vague intentions of returning to their homes, families, and villages after their tutelage to the remarkable rabbi. Perhaps they were delighted at the approach of "a man of substance," and dismayed by his immediate dismissal. For hadn't the Lord sent him away with his demand? 

Jesus had not so precisely spelled out the cost of discipleship to the fishermen, tax collectors, or farmers. He'd only said, "Follow me!" and they did. But if their entire future was described with Jesus's reply, they might never return to the old normal. There might never be a normal! Where are we going, anyway?

I wish I knew the answer to that question, as Covid continues its harvest of unfortunate and unwary Americans, as specter of slavery haunts the nation, as climate change threatens everything we thought we knew about life, as partisan polarization deepens daily, as the wealth-poverty chasm widens, and as more people disappear in the vortex of depression, addiction, and suicide. 

Saint Peter speaks for you and me as he says to Jesus, "We have given up everything and followed you." 

We know no more than anyone else what "eternal life" means, but the Spirit who draws, directs, and drives us knows, and we follow Jesus willingly.