Matthew 19:21–24

People ask, how could the Lord make that the condition of eternal life for him? But the same law that made that necessary would have made this easy — the law that he should love his neighbour as himself. And he had declared that he did just that. Why not, then, sell what he had, and give to the poor? Would it be more to him than giving it back to himself, to give to the neighbour whom he loved as himself?

He was, in the highest sense, the Stranger — the self-emptied heavenly Stranger here. Standing before the rich young man, He speaks to him of a perfection suited to such a one. This is a high order of perfection indeed — imitation of the fully-emptied heavenly Jesus.

But what is this selling? It is not abandoning what we have, or throwing it away, but parting with it to receive more than its equivalent. If we turn to Philippians 3 we shall have a lovely example of this selling. There we see Paul suffering the loss of all things, counting them as rubbish. But did he do so, like a monk, in his self-mortification, to work out a fitness for eternal life? No; that would have been throwing away what he had and getting nothing back. But he did it "to gain Christ."

He puts the world in one scale, Himself and heaven in the other. He offers him the assurance of the very thing he had asked about. "You will have treasure in heaven" — but He offers it on condition that he leaves all to follow Christ on earth — Christ on earth and treasure in heaven. These are in one scale — and, in the other, the world. Not the world in its wretchedness, but in its fair and attractive forms.

The Lord, as it were, put the test in this way, What do you think of Me? I am come down from heaven, I was rich but for your sake I became poor. I have come down to be here as a man. I did not come to be served. I am going through this world teaching My disciples to look forward to that glorious time, which is not of this world. Will you follow Me? Will you be on My side? You will have much to put up with. Do you think I am worth following? Do you think I am worth giving up everything you have in this world?

For the sinner is never told to sell all that he has to buy the gospel, which is without money and without price. And pointing to the Lord's word to the ruler — "Go and sell what you possess" (Matt. 19:21) — carries no weight at all. For this was a test: could so strict a keeper of the law take the path and place of a disciple of the rejected Messiah?… Giving up everything for His sake after you have found Christ is quite a different thing from surrendering everything as the condition of finding Him. The latter exists in the imaginations of men but not in the gospel.

To hold property for Christ and His service in this world, and to give it out as a steward according to His mind, is a Christian service. It needs much waiting on the Master, and great freedom of soul in His presence.

Was Christ more to him than all his possessions? "Disheartened by the saying, he went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions." Christ probed his heart and uncovered its state. In a moment what had looked so promising clouded over. The bud of promise never opened into a flower; it withered away. He who had run to the Lord with such eagerness turned from Him with a sad and burdened heart. What an appeal to the law could not do, Christ as a test made clear.

The love of riches ruled this young man's heart, however interesting his natural character was. The base desire for gold lay at the bottom of his heart. It drove his will, and it was the true measure of his moral state. If he goes away grieved and leaves the Lord, it is because he prefers money to God revealed in love and grace.

The things of the earth bound him, and prevailed with him to turn away from the path of Christ. It was not anything that was morally bad. We read that Jesus "loved him." In a naturally fine character He saw traces of God's handiwork that still remained among the ruins of sin. It was not sin to have "great possessions." But now they turn out to be the very things that hold the heart back from the path of a rejected Christ.

He puts the world in one scale, Himself and heaven in the other. He gives him the assurance of what he had asked about: "You will have treasure in heaven." But He offers it on one condition — the man must leave everything and follow Christ on earth. Christ on earth and treasure in heaven. These are in one scale — and, in the other, the world. Not the world in its wretchedness, but in its fair and attractive forms.

Jesus knew his circumstances and his heart. He put His finger on the covetousness that ruled him, fed by the riches he had. He was to sell all that he had and follow Jesus; he would have treasure in heaven. The young man went away sorrowful. In the eyes of men, his riches looked like a sign of God's favour. But when the heart and heaven came into question, they were only a hindrance.

There was something the Lord asked him to give up; something to take up; and Someone to follow.

Like the young man of whom we read that he "went away sorrowful," we may turn back to the things of earth. He did not turn away in anger or hatred of Christ. He had no fault to find with Christ; but the world was too strong for him. Like Demas, of a later day, he loved this present world.

He turned back again into darkness from the light to which he had come. He went back to the circle where he himself was the centre. He went away from the One with every right to be his Centre. "He went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions." We may be sure that the heart of the Lord was grieved. Who can tell the grief that filled the heart of the Lord? He watched that young man choose earthly wealth over eternal life. He watched him choose himself and his own will rather than Christ and the claims of God.

"A rich man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven." That is, with difficulty. It does not say he cannot; it says he "shall hardly." He repeats it with emphasis: "Again I say to you, It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle" (beyond nature, of course) "than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God."

Those who would make this less absolute than it seems, by applying it to an eastern city gate, should remember that the Lord says directly that what He speaks of is impossible for man. On the other hand, Mark records for us the explanation that a rich man here stands for one who trusts in riches. That prevents the obvious mistake of a crude literalism, and extends the principle to the poorest in actual possessions. Really, only the man who trusts in riches is "rich" in the sense intended, and a man may do that who never acquires them.

Verse 23 speaks of those who "have riches," and verse 24 of those who "trust in riches." The fact is that it is very hard to have them without trusting in them. We naturally cling to riches and earth. Christ offers the cross and heaven.

The disciples were amazed because under law God had promised great increase to those who obeyed it. People too often treated riches as a sign that the man who owned them must be keeping the law. This was by no means always true, for in fact all were guilty of breaking the law. But if a man's riches only strengthened his claim to be keeping the law, then those riches made it harder for him to see any need of the grace of God.

They were no longer to look on material prosperity as a sign of God's favour, or to count wealth on earth as a blessing from God. They were to be followers of a rejected Christ, who had become poor. And they were to see heaven as the place to store their treasures.

It was a question of forsaking all and following Christ — a Christ who was not about to ascend the throne at once and wield the sceptre of His father David, but who was first to be rejected and crucified. The riches and honours of this world were such a hindrance to anyone who had them, in following a rejected Christ this way, that nothing could overcome it, or enable anyone to overcome it, but the almighty power of God.

But He drew a clear line, so that no one would apply this to salvation, as if salvation were different for different classes of men when they seek it. Those who realise their need of salvation are all one class: "Christ died for sinners" covers every case. But when men are the ones seeking, eternity seems less real the more they have to satisfy themselves with here.

If it were a question of man doing anything to get into the kingdom, riches are only so much hindrance. And so it is with everything else counted desirable. Whatever I may have, and trust in — whether moral ways, position, or anything else — these are only obstacles as far as the kingdom is concerned, and they make it impossible for man. But with God all things are possible, no matter what the difficulty. Therefore God chooses in His grace to call all sorts and conditions of people. We read of a person called out of Herod's court; we read of saints in Caesar's household... above all, Saul of Tarsus, brought up at the feet of Gamaliel. All these difficulties only gave God the opportunity to overcome every obstacle by His own power and grace.

To the amazement of His disciples, He says it is easier for a camel to go through a needle's eye than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God. Some want to make this less absolute than it sounds, so they apply it to an eastern city gate. They should remember that the Lord states plainly that what He is speaking of is impossible for man. Mark records the explanation that a rich man here stands for one who trusts in riches. That guards us from a crude literalism, and it stretches the warning to those who own almost nothing. Really, the only man who is "rich" in the sense meant is the man who trusts in riches — and a man can do that who never gets them.

Some find it attractive to say that the camel and the needle's eye point to a small gate that a camel could only pass through once it was unloaded. But no reliable historian supports this idea.

The danger of having riches is that it becomes far too easy for us to trust them. We should remember that God is the Creator, and we should honour His rights as Creator over whatever possessions He entrusts to us... So it takes an entirely divine work of grace to bring a rich man into the kingdom of God. But poor men who want to be rich need the same sovereign work of God in their hearts (1 Tim. 6:9). In fact everyone needs it, for it is a universal disease to prefer something else to a path of faith.

These things — riches, family, power — are claims which bind the soul to this world. Grace can indeed break these chains, but it does not often happen... These chains are too strong. But with God all things are possible.

The disciples were amazed because under law God had promised great increase to those who obeyed it. People too often treated riches as a sign that their owner must be keeping the law. This was by no means always true, for in fact all were guilty of breaking the law. But if a man's riches only strengthened his claim to be keeping the law, then his riches kept him from seeing any need of the grace of God.

Only Matthew's Gospel uses the term "Kingdom of Heaven." In fact that Gospel uses "Kingdom of God" in just four passages, and each one stresses the moral or inward side... This statement speaks of the close way in which the power of God works. The Jews had been taught to believe that riches were a mark of God's favour. That idea had to be pulled out of men's minds.

If it is a question of man doing anything to get into the kingdom, riches are only a hindrance. He would like to take them with him, along with anything else that makes something of himself. But everything that belongs to man only blocks his way into the kingdom. More than that, it makes entry impossible, as far as he himself is concerned. With God, however, all things are possible, and man reaches the kingdom only by the working of His grace.