Sometimes it can be a little bit challenging, even annoying, to be in the presence of people who have it all together; we also call them “overachievers”. I have to say this carefully because we probably have a few of them in our own congregation. And if you asked me, “What’s an overachiever?” I would say that’s someone who is constantly driven to be better, never quite happy with their accomplishments, never quite at ease with themselves, always looking to improve, always looking to excel, always at the top of the class. Of course, you might say, those are all wonderful traits, right? In fact, most people who are successful possess those traits. James Franklin, the Penn State Football Coach, reflecting on this year’s heart-breaking loss to Ohio State, which occurred again in the last minutes of a sold-out home game, by one measly point, said last week, “We all need to raise our performance by one percent. All of us!” He said those things and he meant them. He is a football coach. He gets paid to achieve and overachieve and getting his team to test the outer edges of performance. Always looking for an edge!
So, overachievers, people who go above and beyond everybody else’s standards, are important people in our society. We probably wouldn’t progress without them. We have a few of those “doer types” in our congregation, and frankly, I don’t know what we would do without them. On the other hand, for people who are not wired the same way, it can be slightly uncomfortable to be exposed to the overachieving, “we can do everything” energy of those who are always on the edge. Because it makes you look, well, like an underachiever… This struck me as I tried to imagine this Sunday’s gospel lesson. Why?
See, most of Jesus’ disciples were not overachievers by any stretch of the imagination. Jesus didn’t call them because he thought they would make “outstanding,” “successful” disciples. If he had some criterion in mind, I’m not quite sure what it was, but he was not looking for a class of geniuses, that’s for sure. Enter this young man who, by every human standard, should have been one of the twelve. He is about the same age as Jesus followers, but man, unlike them, this guy is primed for ministry! Jesus didn’t have to chase him down at the lake and force him out of his father’s business! He didn’t have to get him off the cushy tax collector’s chair and convince him to get up and follow his lead. None of those things!
This young man came running, threw himself on his knees in front of Jesus and asked the ultimate question, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” There was no small talk, no flowery introduction, no hesitation – we are meeting the TYPE A disciple, the one who simply wants to get it done. I mean, if I were Jesus and I had already selected the maximum twelve disciples, I would consider an exception right here. I would say, “Come, we have room for one more.” Or maybe I would exchange him for Judas. Or get rid of doubting Thomas instead. Or one of the disciples that we know almost nothing about. Thaddeus, maybe or James the lesser. What do we know about them? Only their names. We don’t know the name of this young man, but we know this: he wants to follow Jesus, he wants to find God, he wants to serve. And with the wealth from his home, he could also support the ministry. Am I wrong to think that way? If you ask me, this candidate is a slam dunk. He should be a disciple. Not because of his money, but because of his desire.
But no such invitation is issued.
Instead, Jesus goes the traditional route. He asks him, “What have you learned in Sunday School? Your teachers must have instructed you in the Ten Commandments.” And the overachieving young man gives Jesus the kind of response you would expect from a Type A student who has crammed for his exams. He is ready to give Jesus all the answers. He not only knows his commandments but he also claims that he has observed them all. “Teacher, I have kept all of them since my youth.”
Once again, by our standards you would expect that Jesus invites him in. This young man is not only eager to go into ministry, he not only knows his stuff, he has also practiced religion and developed a moral compass by which he has lived. That’s a lot! He seems to come from a good family or he wouldn’t have been drawn in that direction from an early age. He seems to have come from a successful family that had achieved a level of affluence. Yet Jesus is, what I would call “overly picky” with him. He gives him a challenge that we would all fail, I’m pretty sure. “Sell what you own, give your money to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven.” Isn’t that unfair? Our Lord didn’t ask any of his other followers to do such a thing and, even if they had less, they probably would have failed this challenge just like this young man.
So, what is going on here? I am probably preaching about this text for the eighth or ninth time, I’m not sure. But I sure remember my own level of discomfort especially in the early years saying something about a text that I did not feel morally qualified for. Because I’m no different than this young man. If Jesus asked me, “Sell your house on Tanglewood Drive and your two cars and whatever else you have, including all the clutter that you don’t even need and give it to Manna on Main Street and follow me, where would I stand – and where would I sleep? No, I am no better, no more prepared to accept this steep challenge. Is Jesus looking at me with love, but telling me, “You lack one thing, not so young man!?”
Those are the kinds of things I have wrestled with over the years. This time around the gospel passage hit from an entirely different angle though, and it was not because I was trying to avoid uncomfortable questions about possessions. Almost immediately, I felt that maybe this passage is the gospel special for overachievers, for people who have it all together, for those who are assured by their own success and for all of us who pretend that we’ve got it. Basically, Jesus teaches here in the starkest possible terms that the focus on achievements and accomplishments, which in so many ways moves society forward, reaches its natural limit when you talk about the kingdom of God, when you talk about heaven, when you talk about salvation, when you talk about the sacred core of who we are. Here, Jesus teaches, it is not about gaining, but about giving up, about letting go, being naked as Adam and Eve before God, about the crucifixion of pride and bragging rights. It’s a hard lesson, even if you don’t take the possession part literally. It’s a lesson that will stop us in our personal ambition tracks and move us to see our world with the eyes of others. And when we look at the world in this way, not from selfish, ambitious points of view, but with the eyes of others, and are able to do so with a measure of joy and peace – you tell me, is that not heaven? Or maybe a glimpse of heaven. As we walk away from this lesson like the young man, let us continue to ponder what God needs us to give up.
Amen.