The Commands and Wisdom
June 26, 2022
Usually we just ridicule the question. “He was in the wrong from the beginning; his heart wasn’t in the right place. He just wanted to know how little he could get away with doing.”
I don’t think that’s the right response. I, much like the certain ruler, would very much like to know, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” (Lk. 18.18). It’s a good question, and probably crosses the mind of each of us at some point. It recognizes that we have a responsibility to do good deeds, that we are God’s people to embody God’s righteousness through not committing adultery, not murdering, not stealing, not bearing false witness, and honoring our fathers and mothers. Following these commands isn’t some sort of works-righteousness; it’s simply embodying the reign of God. Nobody has a problem with this.
But Jesus doesn’t stop there. “Sell all that you own and distribute the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” All of a sudden we get really defensive—‘he didn’t really mean that; he said it to that one particular person, not me; I’m not a certain ruler, so it does’t apply to me; Jesus took it to a hyperbolic level to show how ridiculous the question was in the first place; the ruler was just being self-righteous—no one actually follows all those commands from their youth.’ We will come up with most any explanation just so long as we don’t ever have to have the impression that Jesus literally expects us to sell our possessions. Because if we heard Jesus actually say that, we too might “become sad,” because we too are “very rich.”
I don’t think squirming out of the words of Jesus is a good idea. We end up only hearing what we want to hear, resulting in a very uneven application of the commands of Scripture. Some commands are literal (don’t commit adultery, don’t murder, etc.); but the commands right next to them aren’t (sell your possessions, etc.).
Then again, I don’t think legalistically applying them is a good idea either. If all of us sold all our clothes, our worship services would get a little uncomfortable. I don’t think that’s really what God wants.
An idea I’ve latched onto to help me think through this dilemma is the “moral imagination.” Let the commands say what they say. “Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect. Turn the other cheek. Sell all your possessions.” Allow them to form a picture in your mind of what humanity can and should be. It’s not what we are, which is why imagination is necessary. Imagine what it would take for you to be that kind of a person. What actions would you do? Perhaps God isn’t asking you to sell all your possessions today, but is he asking you to sell one of them? As we allow these commands to shape our moral imagination, we may just find that one day we are able to literally sell all our possessions. Who knows where God will lead us?
—John Coffey