A sermon by the Rev. Dr. Wayne Menking, Director of the Lutheran Seminary Program in the Southwest, given on September 6, 2007, in Christ Chapel

Luke 18:18-30

Psalm 101

Timothy 3:14-4:16

Genesis39:1-23 

 At first glance, we might not think we have much in common with this “certain ruler” who comes to Jesus and asks, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” First off, none of us would or could identify with the category of ruler; we are not situated among the politically powerful, which we assume that this man was. But more than that, we might not even identify with his question – What must I do to inherit eternal life? If, as I’m sure most of us have, automatically take this as a question about what one has to do to get into heaven, then we already know the answer, right? We’ve grown up with the prescriptions on what we have to do to get into heaven. We know the answer to the question, which is why it’s hard to identify with this man. His question is not our question!

Except….what if the question isn’t about the after-life or getting into heaven at all? What if the question really is one of ultimate meaning and purpose? What if the question is one of trying to satisfy that deep yearning for connection with God, that search for the ultimate awareness that one is in union with the creator and the entire universe? What if it is a question rooted in that search for ultimate peace and unity? If this is the question, my guess is that we find ourselves in the ruler’s company, for all of us know what that search is about. All of a sudden, his question is our question.

Here is a man who has everything – at least we can assume as much. He is in a position of power, which we can assume means that he is a man of means, a man of wealth. Moreover he is a religious and pious man who has done everything that has been required of him by religious law. Yet he is coming up empty! (Sound or feel familiar??) Everything that his piety, his power and his wealth were supposed to deliver has failed him. He has not found the life for which he yearns. Yet when Jesus tells him what is lacking and says that he needs to give everything up to the poor, the man cannot hear it. He walks away, still searching.

Yes, this is a story about faith and where we place our ultimate trust for security and well-being. But more importantly – and especially when we see this story in the context of the whole of chapter 18 - it is a story about the search for ultimate meaning, for eternal life, and the way we posture ourselves in that search.

This story is situated in Luke’s eighteenth chapter. Look at how that chapter begins and how it ends. It begins with the unjust judge who finally gives the persistent woman the justice that she has asked for simply because he does not want to be bothered any more. Jesus then asks the question: And will not God grant justice to those who cry to him day and night? This is rhetorical – of course God will grant justice to those who ask and he says so in vs. 8. Now we go to the end of the chapter. Jesus is walking along. A blind man asks what’s happening, and people tell him. All of a sudden, the ruckus begins: he cries out, Son of David, have mercy on me. They try to quite him, but he is all the more persistent. Jesus stops and responds to him. He gives him what he asks with these words – Your faith has made you well. The chapter begins and ends with two stories of faith – persistent faith that will not let the one who is being asked off the hook. It is a faith that almost cries out: “if you are who you say you are, then you must answer my plea!!!!” And it does not stop crying out.

But more importantly, the cries for justice and mercy come from those who have a keen sense of the reality of their situation: they know their place – they are nothing. Their cry for mercy and justice comes from that awareness. It’s almost as if they have nothing to lose, and they know it! Their petitions and cries for mercy are out of their complete vulnerability. They know it and they have no other way to turn ; their life depends on the one to whom they are making their plea, and they know it.

This is in complete contrast to the ruler. While we can admire his piety and his earnest desire to find God and ultimate meaning, the one thing that he is lacking – which Jesus points out by telling him to sell everything and give to the poor – is that since of dependency. He does not know that his life depends on God; its almost as though he is simply asking for help along the way. He is the one in charge of his life and he will have it no other way.

So, my dear friends, who do you identify with in these stories? Intellectually, most of us would say we identify with the woman or the blind man. Intellectually we know that our life depends on God, but in reality, let’s face it, we are more like the ruler. We are products of a culture whose highest value is the self-made, self-reliant person who rises to the top. It’s what we are taught to strive for. Moreover, we are taught to strive for success that is marked by what we achieve and accumulate. Like it or not, we cannot escape the influence of such a powerful influence. Within the value system of this culture, there is no room for vulnerability, no room for the sort of dependency that we see in the woman or the blind man. There is no room for those whose life depends so completely on anything or anyone other than self. Is it any wonder, even with all of our culture’s hyper-religiosity and attempts at spirituality, we keep coming up empty?

With such reality staring us in the face, the question that the disciples raise becomes our question: Who can be saved? Is there any hope at all for us? And we hear Jesus’ words: What is impossible for human beings is possible with God. Yes, even for those of us caught and trapped in the throes of an idolatrous and self-indulging culture that has no room for dependency on God, there is hope. And like the woman and the blind man, our hope for mercy, justice and life is not within ourselves; it is in the One who hears our plea and our cry, even God himself.

So how do we posture ourselves in this search for God? Must we become like the woman or the blind man? No their experience is not ours, and we cannot contrive it. But maybe our work isn’t about creating anything; maybe it’s about coming to grips with the realities of just how vulnerable we really are. Maybe it’s facing the truth of the extent to which all of us are shaped by the illusions and lies of our culture. Or more importantly and more significantly, the text calls us to face the reality of just how much wealth has its grip on us – the extent to which we are so deeply defined by materialistic consumerism, we cannot free ourselves. When we come to this reality, we paradoxically realize we are like the woman and the blind man – we know that we have no way out. We have no alternative but to appeal to the justice and mercy of God! And it’s precisely in this place that we are encouraged – no – admonished to be as ruthlessly persistent in our plea as were the woman and the blind man.

 Indeed even in the throes of this demonic culture that tries to lay claim to our life, we pray with a fervent and persistent hope. For the words of Jesus are true: Indeed God will answer those who cry to him day and night, and with God all things are possible.