False Leads
Text: Mark 10:17-22
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Storytellers of all stripes know that a very effective tool in drawing in the audience and then surprising them is the false lead. In it, the author takes time to bring your focus or attention to one element, and then, in a twist, reveals that the real culprit, or treasure, or solution was something else all along, often in plain sight. Afred Hitchcock did this masterfully, as did Agatha Christie, along with many others among the greats. It’s a technique that’s been used to create countless bestsellers and blockbuster hits.
There’s a reason why the false lead captures our imaginations in storytelling. It’s because it’s very believable. It happens to us in real life quite a lot. We think we’re on the right track, about to figure something out or reach some achievement, only to find that we’ve been running down the wrong trail all along. Such was the case with the rich young man in our Gospel reading this morning. He was wealthy; St. Mark tells us that he had great possessions in an age when most people owned very little for themselves. He was young, in the prime of youth. He was healthy and strong. Our reading makes a point of saying that not only had he come to Jesus, but that he ran up to Him and knelt. Everything in this rich young man’s life was telling him that he had God’s favor. Why else would he have all these riches, all these belongings, this vigor, this youth, this prosperity in every corner of his life, if it didn’t mean that God favored him more than those who were poor, sick, weak, and pitiable.
And yet, he seems to have the suspicion that this was all a false lead. Perhaps something had happened in his life. Maybe he had lost a loved one, or he wasn’t as happy as he’d felt before. Maybe he’d slipped a little—not too much, just a bit—in his social standing. Maybe he had the feeling that in spite of all he had, something was missing. Perhaps his conscience just wasn’t at rest. We don’t know; Scripture doesn’t give us much information about this young wealthy man. But, he thought, if anyone could tell him how he could know for certain that he had God’s favor—for eternity—it would be this teacher, Jesus. “Good Teacher,” he asked Jesus, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
At first Jesus gave the rich young man the expected answers, the obvious trail. “Why do you call me good. No one is good except God alone. You know the commandments: ‘Do not murder, Do not commit adultery, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Do not defraud, Honor your father and mother.’” Yes, yes, this pious man knew all these. He’d been to synagogue and heard the Torah read. “Teacher,” he answered confidently, “all these I have kept from my youth.” And now we get to the crux, the twist, the real solution after the false leads. Looking at him, Jesus loved him and said, “You lack one thing: go, sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” This was not the answer the young man was expecting. Disheartened, he went away sorrowful, because he had great possessions. The real problem and the real solution were revealed, and the young man realized he had been dedicated to the wrong path, he had been chasing the wrong answer, but now that he knew the truth, he was disappointed.
The rich young man was disheartened because he learned that in spite of all those things that he thought were marks of God’s favor—wealth, health, youth, outward obedience to the Commandments—that it all was a false lead. To be good—good enough for eternal life—the rich young man needed the kind of goodness that only God had. He needed that self-sacrificing kind of goodness, giving away all those things he had to those who had nothing. He needed the kind of holiness that doesn’t just come from mechanically going through the motions of the Commandments, but that inward attitude of the heart, the thoughts of the mind and desires that God has: to love freely, without concern for the cost, even if it costs everything. In the end, losing all those things, selling all he had and giving up the life he knew in order to follow this wandering homeless despised-by-men Teacher—that was too much. The real answer was too hard to bear, so he went back to his false leading trail.
We too are in love with those things we think are tokens that we’re on the right track. Our nice respectable homes, our tidy and comfortable bank accounts, our growing investment portfolios, our ability to dodge and distract and prescribe away any and all discomfort—these seem like signs that we have God’s favor. After all, wouldn’t suffering mean that we’ve done something wrong? Wouldn’t being uncomfortable mean that we have to fix something in our lives so that God will reward us with soft and smooth and cushy things and easy lives? What would our hearts do if we were told that none of those things that we think are so important, the things we spend so much of our time thinking and worrying about, that none of those things were ever indicators that we were good before God? How many of us—any of us, don’t just think about those other people that are wealthier than you—how many of us would go happily from here and do the one thing that Jesus says we’re lacking, and sell all we have and give to the poor and then follow Him to the cross? What’s the reaction of your heart and mind when you hear that those things you like, the things you enjoy, that make you comfortable, that give you confidence that God is on your side, that all those things are actually false leads and that you’d be more complete without them?
I venture to say that our reaction would be a lot, if not identical, to the rich young man in our reading today. For we also tend to think that worldly success means godly approval. Like him, we also think that the all those things the world chases after so hungrily are marks that we’re doing right, that God is pleased with us. Wealth, health, status, respect, adherence to the Commandments or some other code of thought and conduct, as dictated by the times—that all of these things mean we’re Good, with a capital G.
But Jesus has hidden the truth about all that from those who think they know all the answers. The false leads in our thinking are now obvious, but the true trail was right there at the beginning, when our Lord first spoke in today’s Gospel reading—we just missed the trailhead. “Why do you call me good?” Jesus asked the rich young man, “No one is good except God alone.” The man wanted to know how to become good enough for eternal life, but Jesus tells him no one is good except God alone—the rich young man simply can’t do it on his own. And there’s another secret hidden in that question. Jesus is trying to lead the rich young man to the answer. “Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone. So if you call me good, then I must be…” Jesus is God. He’s drawing in the rich young man, the disciples who are watching all this unfold, and us now, hearing this account, leading us all to recognize that He is God. Only He has the kind of goodness that leads to eternal life. Only He has the self-sacrificing and self-giving kind of love that shares all it has. We see it in Jesus’ reaction to the man. The reading says that Jesus looks at him and loves him, even though the rich young man is lost. Jesus still loves him. This is the good God who will go all the way to the cross for that lost man, for lost humanity, and give all that He has and all that He is for the sake of the world, to share His eternal life with you in an act of Goodness with a capital G that will forever remain unmatched.
So our confidence in receiving eternal life is not from any wealth or health or strength or status or goodness (with a lower case g) that we might have. It comes from Jesus, who alone is Good, who alone is worthy of eternal life, and who shares all He has with us. And that Goodness of Jesus covers you. He gives away everything, even His own life on the cross, so that you inherit His eternal life. Everything else is just gifts above and beyond. Everything we have are gifts we can rejoice in and share, because in Jesus there is always more. In the name of Jesus, who alone is Good. Amen.

