The Rich Young Ruler (2)

I made the case Monday that, contrary to what might be our first impression, Jesus is not telling the rich young man in Matthew 19 that he can be saved by selling his possessions and giving the money to the poor. What, then, is he telling him?

The young man starts by asking Jesus, “What good deed must I do to have eternal life?” What’s implied in this question is that whatever Jesus tells him to do, he’s willing to do it, and assumes that he’ll be able to do it. Jesus’ response is somewhat abrasive: “Why do you ask me about what is good? There is only one who is good.” Right off the bat, this should make the man question his original assumption. If there’s only One who is good (presumably not him!), then what should make him think he can do whatever “good deed” is required for eternal life?

Jesus’ next response should also give the man pause: “If you would enter life, keep the commandments.” Note that he does not say “If you would enter life, try to keep the commandments.” Or “If you would enter life, keep most of the commandments.” Or even “if you would enter life, have a lifestyle that generally reflects the commandments.” No, he simply says, “Keep the commandments.” Like, all 614 of them (or whatever). All the time. Without exception. For your entire life.

This is where our hero should say something like “But I haven’t! I can’t! Now what?” But he doesn’t miss a beat. Instead, he says, “Which ones?” Give me some specific criteria, Jesus. So Jesus does: “You shall not murder, You shall not commit adultery, You shall not steal, You shall not bear false witness, Honor your father and mother, and, You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Notice that, with the exception of the last one, Jesus generally picks commandments that are more externally-oriented– or at least seem to be. Most of us would feel like we could look at that list and say, “Done.” That’s what the young man says. “All these I have kept.” OK, Jesus, I’ve done all that. Check. Now what?

So here’s what’s gone on so far. The man has asked Jesus what “good deed” is necessary for eternal life. Jesus has said obedience to God’s commandments is necessary, and the man responds (!) that he has done that. Obeyed God’s commands. All of them (or at least the ones Jesus listed as examples). He’s claiming his own righteousness on the basis of having fulfilled God’s law. It’s in that context we have to look at Jesus’ response: “If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.”

Now, keep in mind: Jesus is the one who searches hearts, who “knew what was in a man.” He knows this kid is not about to go sell all his stuff. Sure enough, as soon as the young man hears Jesus’ words, he goes away sad, because he has so many possessions. But he said he would do whatever he needed to! What just happened here?

What just happened is that Jesus held up a mirror to the young man’s heart. If he were keeping the commandments of God, he would, among other things, “Love the Lord his God with all his heart and with all his soul and with all his might.” If he did that, not to mention if he “loved his neighbor as himself,” then selling a bunch of camels and giving away the money wouldn’t be any problem at all. But in reality, his heart is caught up in his riches. He does not love God with his whole heart– his affection is divided between God and his stuff. He’s an idolater. He can’t truthfully say about God’s commandments, “All these I have kept.” Jesus shows him that, and he’s unable and unwilling to turn away from his idolatry.

The story of the rich young ruler isn’t about how much we need to do to enter eternal life, as though if the man had sold his possessions Jesus would have congratulated him and said “Now you’ve done enough.” The story tells us there’s nothing we can do– we are incapable of obeying God’s law the way we would have to to earn eternal life. We are the rich young man; we share in his idolatry. Like him, we have to let go of our own efforts, abandon hope in our own righteousness, and flee to the One who alone is good.

"Anything Written by Men Must Be Flawed"

You may have heard it stated, “Why should I believe the Bible? It was written by men, and anything written by men must be flawed.” Notice two problems with this argument. First, this argument overlooks the fact that the Bible claims to have been written by men under God’s influence. Second, to believe this argument, one would be forced to disregard every historical fact one has ever read in a book. After all, humans have written every history book, every math book, every science book, and every other kind of book. Imagine a student standing up in her math class and proclaiming, “I cannot believe the Pythagorean theorem because it came from a book written by a man!”

– Voddie Baucham, The Ever-Loving Truth

The Rich Young Ruler

The story of the rich young man in Matthew 19 (and parallels; Luke calls him a “ruler”) has got to be one of the most misunderstood passages in the NT. It is confusing on the face of it. Because at a cursory read, it really looks like Jesus tells the guy he can have eternal life if he sells his stuff and gives the money to the poor. And, of course, this could be contrasted with other passages that make it seem like we can only get eternal life by trusting in Christ.

A few reasons I don’t think Jesus means to tell this guy he’ll be saved by selling his possessions:

• It would contradict numerous other texts, including words out of Jesus’ mouth, that say we are saved only by grace through faith (for example, Matt 20:28, which is discussed below).

• The first thing Jesus says to the young man is “Why do you call me ‘good’? There is only one who is good.” This would not be true if selling his stuff would make the young man good enough to inherit eternal life.

• In v. 21 Jesus tells him, “If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess,” etc. Since the man asked what he needed to do to have eternal life, it seems like Jesus is saying that you have to be perfect to inherit eternal life. Surely he’s not admitting that the young man has never sinned, and that if he did this one thing he would become “perfect.”

• When the young man walks away, Jesus comments on how difficult it is for the rich to enter the Kingdom. His disciples ask him, “Who then can be saved?” His reply: “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” If the young man could actually be saved by selling his possessions, why would Jesus say “with man this is impossible”?

• The very next passage is the parable of the laborers in the vineyard, the point of which is that God’s grace, not the amount or quality of our work, is the issue in salvation. Matthew chose to place these passages next to each other. Why would he do that if they contradicted each other?

• In the next chapter Jesus says “the Son of Man came… to give his life as a ransom for many.” We would not need such a ransom if we could be saved simply by giving away our possessions.

So what does Jesus mean to tell this young man? More tomorrow.

Mark Driscoll and Rush Limbaugh

Once again there’s a lot of ink being spilled in the blogosphere (not literally, of course) over Mark Driscoll. His new book Vintage Jesus comes out next week, and advance reviews are coming out this week. As is usually the case with Driscoll, a common reaction is that most of the content of the book is good, but some of Driscoll’s provocative– even off-color– statements cross the line between what’s appropriate and what’s not. Here’s the most popular example:

Jesus’ mom was a poor, unwed teenage girl who was mocked for claiming she conceived via the Holy Spirit. Most people thought she concocted a crazy story to cover the “fact” that she was knocking boots with some guy in the backseat of a car at the prom.

This is the kind of thing that makes some people think Driscoll is the greatest thing since Bono and some people think he’s the Antichrist. (Of course, some people like Tim Challies are in between.) I myself like his stuff a lot, although he regularly says things I wouldn’t say and occasionally says things I wish he wouldn’t.

This is where Rush Limbaugh comes in. Rush, although many of his detractors would disagree, is a very smart guy. He has a great understanding of conservative principles and is very good at explaining them on the popular level. He’s also an entertainer, which is why about every other thing he says is something like “half my brain tied behind my back just to make it fair.” With Rush, I figure you get about 50% thoughtful analysis and 50% obnoxious smoke-blowing. But the thoughtful analysis is there, make no mistake about it.

Driscoll is similar. But I actually think he’s a lot better. Don’t be fooled by the macho/hip exterior– Driscoll has a degree in philosophy, is a voracious reader, and is basically wicked smaht. He also loves Jesus. A lot. He loves the Bible a lot, loves good theology a lot. He consistently takes all kinds of solid Biblical stands that are incredibly unpopular, like the substitutionary death of Christ, God’s sovereignty in salvation, the importance of the local church, even the importance of God-given gender distinctions. And he does this in Seattle, a city that, he frequently remarks, has “more dogs than evangelical Christians.” So there’s a lot of content there. He is also an entertainer. He is funny and provocative, and he uses those traits in his preaching and writing. I’m sure part of this is just his personality and part of it is a deliberate effort to reach out to the young urban crowd he’s trying to impact.

Sometimes in the effort to make a point dramatically or get a laugh, he says things that I think are inappropriate. It could be, as the anti-Driscoll bloggers suggest, that this is because he has no concept of the holiness of God and the importance of the preacher’s task. But seriously, read his books or listen to a few sermons and I think you’ll see that’s not the case. If Rush is 50/50, Driscoll is at least 80/20 on the side of solid biblical content. So even if you do roll your eyes or cringe occasionally, it’s worth it for the good stuff, and for the impact he’s having in places where nice preachers with ties don’t even typically go.

So as if anyone cares, I’m happy to take sides with the Driscoll defenders. Sometimes I do think he’s over the top– so does he; he’s made public apologies. But almost all the time, he’s simply a great communicator of the truth of the Gospel, someone God is using mightily to raise up worshipers of Jesus.

And maybe, since I’m a sinner too, I just delight in the torment he brings to some people who take themselves way too seriously.

Mark Driscoll and Rush Limbaugh

Once again there’s a lot of ink being spilled in the blogosphere (not literally, of course) over Mark Driscoll. His new book Vintage Jesus comes out next week, and advance reviews are coming out this week. As is usually the case with Driscoll, a common reaction is that most of the content of the book is good, but some of Driscoll’s provocative– even off-color– statements cross the line between what’s appropriate and what’s not. Here’s the most popular example:

Jesus’ mom was a poor, unwed teenage girl who was mocked for claiming she conceived via the Holy Spirit. Most people thought she concocted a crazy story to cover the “fact” that she was knocking boots with some guy in the backseat of a car at the prom.

This is the kind of thing that makes some people think Driscoll is the greatest thing since Bono and some people think he’s the Antichrist. (Of course, some people like Tim Challies are in between.) I myself like his stuff a lot, although he regularly says things I wouldn’t say and occasionally says things I wish he wouldn’t.

This is where Rush Limbaugh comes in. Rush, although many of his detractors would disagree, is a very smart guy. He has a great understanding of conservative principles and is very good at explaining them on the popular level. He’s also an entertainer, which is why about every other thing he says is something like “half my brain tied behind my back just to make it fair.” With Rush, I figure you get about 50% thoughtful analysis and 50% obnoxious smoke-blowing. But the thoughtful analysis is there, make no mistake about it.

Driscoll is similar. But I actually think he’s a lot better. Don’t be fooled by the macho/hip exterior– Driscoll has a degree in philosophy, is a voracious reader, and is basically wicked smaht. He also loves Jesus. A lot. He loves the Bible a lot, loves good theology a lot. He consistently takes all kinds of solid Biblical stands that are incredibly unpopular, like the substitutionary death of Christ, God’s sovereignty in salvation, the importance of the local church, even the importance of God-given gender distinctions. And he does this in Seattle, a city that, he frequently remarks, has “more dogs than evangelical Christians.” So there’s a lot of content there. He is also an entertainer. He is funny and provocative, and he uses those traits in his preaching and writing. I’m sure part of this is just his personality and part of it is a deliberate effort to reach out to the young urban crowd he’s trying to impact.

Sometimes in the effort to make a point dramatically or get a laugh, he says things that I think are inappropriate. It could be, as the anti-Driscoll bloggers suggest, that this is because he has no concept of the holiness of God and the importance of the preacher’s task. But seriously, read his books or listen to a few sermons and I think you’ll see that’s not the case. If Rush is 50/50, Driscoll is at least 80/20 on the side of solid biblical content. So even if you do roll your eyes or cringe occasionally, it’s worth it for the good stuff, and for the impact he’s having in places where nice preachers with ties don’t even typically go.

So as if anyone cares, I’m happy to take sides with the Driscoll defenders. Sometimes I do think he’s over the top– so does he; he’s made public apologies. But almost all the time, he’s simply a great communicator of the truth of the Gospel, someone God is using mightily to raise up worshipers of Jesus.

And maybe, since I’m a sinner too, I just delight in the torment he brings to some people who take themselves way too seriously.

Jesus and Sheep

From Mark Driscoll’s new book Vintage Jesus: Timeless Answers to Timely Questions. Driscoll’s talking about the Jesus he learned about in Sunday School as a kid:

Worse still, this weird Jesus seemed to really like sheep. I never saw a picture of him with a baseball glove or with other kids, but I did see him with a lot of sheep. Sometimes they even made us glue cotton balls to construction paper in an effort to make our own sheep so that we could apparently be as weird as Jesus. In short, Jesus seemed downright freakish, definitely not the kind of guy you’d want on your baseball team because he’d never have the guts to slide hard into second to break up a double play or throw inside to a batter to back him off the plate. Rather, he’d prefer to pick flowers in the outfield and daydream about fluffy sheep while praying for his enemies and keeping his emotions under control.

Full review later in the week.

Band of Bloggers and Together for the Gospel

Everybody loves a good conference, am I right? One I’m hoping I can hit this year is the second bi-annual Together for the Gospel conference. The idea behind this conference is for Christians with various secondary differences to stand together and rejoice in what we all agree on: the greatness of the Gospel. So it’s hosted by Mark Dever, Al Mohler, Ligon Duncan and C. J. Mahaney– 2 Baptists, a Presbyterian, and a charismatic. It’s kind of a guy-walks-into-a-bar joke waiting to happen.

At any rate, the 2006 conference was great, or at least the MP3’s were. All four of the above guys spoke, and also John MacArthur, R. C. Sproul and John Piper. This year they’re also adding Thabiti Anyabwile, one of whose books I’ll be reviewing this week. You can see the titles of all the talks here.

Another cool feature that they had in 2006 but are expanding this year is the Band of Bloggers pre-conference. In 2006 this meeting before T4G sort of developed on the grassroots level, and they’re working to make it even better this year. It’s a brief conference for bloggers to interact in person, kick ideas around and basically encourage each other to “live and write with a gospel-centered emphasis.”

Unless something changes I’ll be in Prague during the conference this year. But if you’re looking for something to do April 15-17, check this stuff out.

Shake Off the Dust

In Matthew 10 Jesus sends the Twelve out on their first evangelistic journey. Among the instructions he gives is this:

If anyone will not receive you or listen to your words, shake off the dust from your feet when you leave that house or town. Truly, I say to you, it will be more bearable on the day of judgment for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah than for that town.

What in the world are we supposed to do with this? I have no idea. Granted, not all Jesus’ instructions to the disciples apply to us in exactly the same way, and all that. But seriously– what do we do with this? Shouldn’t we keep telling people about the Gospel, knowing that God could change their heart any minute, even if they’re hostile to it? Don’t people get saved all the time after rejecting the Gospel over and over again?

I’m pretty sure I haven’t shared the Gospel long enough or often enough with anyone to be at this point. But in theory, what do you think? Is there ever a point when we “shake off the dust” and walk away?

Follow the Trail

Justin Taylor points to C. J. Mahaney’s pointing to Greg Gilbert’s critiques of Rob Bell’s Nooma videos. Got that?

But seriously folks, Gilbert’s reviews (in three parts) are good. Full disclosure, I haven’t seen any of the Nooma videos. But reading Bell’s stuff I’ve had some of the same concerns as Gilbert. See what you think.

The Kind of Rest Jesus Offers

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” –Jesus, Matt 11:28-30

Is this the same Jesus who said things like this just a chapter earlier?

“Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. And a person’s enemies will be those of his own household. Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. And whoever does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me” (Matt 10:34-38).

Jesus promises us rest, an easy burden. But it’s the kind of rest that’s “not peace but a sword”—the kind of rest that severs you from people you love. It’s a rest that’s the fight of your life: a rest where you can’t buy all the things you want, a rest where babies and young people die. It is, in other words, a very real rest—a rest that takes place in the real world with all its real problems and brokenness.

So how is that rest? How is it an easy burden? Because it’s a rest from trying to bear the burden ourselves, from trying to understand/overcome/fix everything—or fix ourselves, for that matter. It’s a rest from depending on our own sorry effort, our own sorry record. A rest from having all the answers. A rest that knows this is not all there is. And since it’s not, we can bear it a little while longer. A few decades of the sword—mixed with “joy unspeakable”—and then we enter the rest remaining, where the yoke will only be easy, the burden only light.

Stand up, stand up for Jesus! The strife shall not be long;
This day the noise of battle, the next the victor’s song.