“What must I do to inherit eternal life?”

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for Sunday, October 14, 2012 | Carl E. Olson

Readings:
• Wis 7:7-11
• Ps 90:12-13, 14-15, 16-17
• Heb 4:12-13
• Mk 10:17-30

“Once
we see Jesus as a teacher of enlightenment, faith changes its focus,” wrote New
Age guru Deepak Chopra in his 2008 best-seller, The Third Jesus: The Christ
We Cannot Ignore (New York, 2008),
“You don't need to have faith in the Messiah or his mission.”

Chopra’s
statement is a perfect summation of the way many people today claim to accept
Christ while actually rejecting him. And although the language of
“enlightenment” might be modern and monistic, Chopra’s approach is hardly new.
In fact, it bears a strong resemblance to the path chosen by the rich young
ruler, whose encounter with Jesus is described in today’s Gospel reading.

Kneeling
in respect, the man addressed Jesus as “Good teacher” and asked, “What must I
do to inherit eternal life?” It was a good start. After all, many people of the
first century and the twenty-first century (and every century between) have
failed to appreciate Jesus as a teacher. Many of them, it seems, don’t even ask
the basic, essential questions about their existence: “Who am I? Why am I here?
What or who am I made for?”

“Why,”
Jesus asked the man, “do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.” This
response is often misunderstood or misinterpreted.  Some skeptics say, “See! Jesus denied that he was God!” But
this misses how Jesus used questions to prompt deeper answers, and how he
offered in his response an invitation to deeper reflection and recognition. Put
another way, Jesus was asking the rich young man to more clearly identify the
basis for his recognition that Jesus was good.

In
reciting some of the core commandments of the Law, Jesus further opened the
doors of invitation. He knew—as the one of gave the Law and fulfilled it
perfectly—that the Law was a signpost, not the destination. The Law, as Paul
often pointed out, reveals our desperate need for God, but cannot save us.

The
young man seemed to implicitly understand the incomplete nature of the Law, for
he had observed the Law his entire life, yet wanted something more. Jesus then
took the invitation to the next level, asking him to sell his possessions,
“then come, follow me.” It is here that the rubber meets the road, for it is
one thing to give your attention to a teacher for a few hours, days, or
semesters; it is quite another to give yourself completely to the Savior. It’s
nice to have a good teacher; it’s frightening to a put your life in the hands
of the Messiah and to join in his mission.

“He
did not follow,” wrote St. Augustine of the rich young man, “He just wanted a good
teacher, but he questioned who the teacher was and scorned the identity of the
One who was teaching.” Jesus seems so agreeable as long as he agrees with us.
It is so much easier to make him a mere teacher, or to remake him in our image
and according to our likes and dislikes. Jesus, however, will have none of it,
for he came not just to teach but also to transform.

The
treasure of earth is so tangible, while the treasure of heaven can seem remote
and unobtainable. Pleasure is so immediate, while God can sometime seem so
distant. Power is intoxicating, while humility can appear dry and dull. We can
be tempted to despair, like the disciples, and exclaim, “Then who can be
saved?” In response to this question, Jesus offered a third invitation—or,
better, a third overture of the same essential invitation: “For human beings it
is impossible, but not for God.” This is the invitation to total faith and
familial trust in God the Father, who sent the Son as Savior, and who gives the
Holy Spirit as a seal “in our hearts as a guarantee” (cf. 2 Cor. 1:21-22).

 Many
men—rich, famous, and otherwise—have rejected the invitation. Will we depart in
sadness or accept in gladness?

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the October
11, 2009, edition of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)