The Story of the Rich Young Man

Part Two

An earnest young spiritual seeker, by all accounts wealthy, comes to Jesus and asks what he must do to gain ‘eternal life’. Jesus replies by telling him to keep the commandments. “You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not steal…”

“Yes, yes, I’ve done all that”, comes the impatient reply, “I want the advanced teaching.”

Actually, according to Matthew’s version of the story, he says, “what do I still lack?” whereas Mark and Luke record Jesus as saying, “You lack one thing…” It’s these little variations that make it more, not less, likely that the gospel writers were drawing on sources derived from first-hand accounts. Either way, the word used in Matthew and Mark translated here as ‘lack’ has meanings to do with being behind or falling short in some way. This suggests that Jesus is saying that not only is there clearly something missing in the young man’s approach or attitude, but that this is getting in the way.

So, to paraphrase, then, Jesus says, “Okay, but there’s just one thing holding you back…” And then comes the knock-out blow: “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me” (Matthew 19.21).

“If you wish to be perfect…” It’s an intriguing phrase; only Matthew includes it. At first we might be puzzled. It seems to imply the very spiritual materialism that we would normally expect the teachings of Jesus to undermine. We ordinarily think of perfection as a very high level of excellence, when something is as good as it is possible to be. Or we might think of it in terms of moral perfection, being without fault or stain. But the Greek word used here, ’teleios’, means complete, or fully realised. Perfect, then is not necessarily about a degree of excellence or virtue to which we might aspire, but a state of completion, fulfilment.

Perfection is not just something that is as good as it is possible to be, but that which is complete, whole, no longer in a state of alienation. Jesus is basically saying, ‘if you want to be most fully who and what you truly are, then free yourself from your attachments’. But instead of focussing on what he is actually saying, we tend to get distracted by the idea that we not only have to sell all our worldly goods, but also give the proceeds away, leaving us with nothing. And this, of course, for the most part, is just not possible. The word here translated as possessions in Matthew’s gospel also has meanings to do with ‘to be’ and ‘to exist’. This is not so much about the ‘stuff’ itself, but the fact that our sense of self is somehow defined in terms of what we (think we) possess, the attachments that constitute our sense of self.

Renunciation is a common theme in the spiritual life, and Jesus returns to it often. Preaching to the crowds, he declares that if someone does not abandon their family commitments and give up everything they have, they cannot be his disciples (Luke 14.26, 33). If we take this as an injunction to give up not only everything we have but everything we are, then it’s not just material possessions we’re talking about. That’s why I prefer to use the word attachments rather than possessions. Our attachments are everything with which we identify as I, me, and mine, everything in which we invest our sense of self.

The things we own, our material possessions, represent only the most obvious form of attachment. The important thing to understand about attachments is that it’s not so much the thing itself, or its monetary value, that’s significant, but the way in which it gives rise to the idea of the self. Whilst we may be very attached to certain possessions, perhaps for sentimental reasons, or because we believe them to be essential to our way of life, or because we admire the qualities of a particular brand – in all these cases, it’s not the object itself that is the locus of attachment, but an idea we have about it. Specifically, an idea about how that thing, whatever it may be, becomes attached to our sense of self.

But the stuff we possess, which sometimes ends up possessing us, is only the starting point. In many ways, material possessions are not only the easiest to grasp but also the easiest to relinquish. Attachment runs much deeper than the things we own; it includes everything with which we identify, including our values, our desires, and our opinions. It includes memories and fantasies, our achievements and ambitions. Our attachments constitute the self, or more likely selves, that we perform to the world. And they can be so deeply rooted that we very often fail to see them for what they are and imagine that the self as we experience it, the constructed self of our attachments, really is some sort of immutable, enduring, stable identity.

It’s not.

Jesus then goes on to talk about ‘treasure in heaven’, the implication being that in giving up our attachments, however valuable, we stand to gain something of even greater worth. The distinctive phrase, ‘treasure in heaven’ occurs elsewhere in the teachings of Jesus, notably in the saying: “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6.19-21).

This helps us to understand the nature of attachment, and why giving it up might be a good thing. If we want to know where our true self, the heart, is located, we will find it wherever we place our ‘treasure’, or that which we invest with value. As ever, follow the money, both literally and metaphorically! Instead of investing our sense of self in the ephemeral and transitory things of this world – and not just things, but everything with which we identify, or value – we should identify with that which is eternal, unchanging, absolute.

Our sense of self is constructed from the things we value, whether those ’things’ are material possessions, our beliefs and opinions, ambitions, desires, or achievements. We are what we value. This is what defines us and determines how we act in the world. If we invest our sense of self in that which passes away, the impermanent and temporary, we perpetuate the cycle of sin and death. Our task is to determine what really matters, and make that the primary focus. Will we identify with the things of the world, rendered insignificant by the passage of time, or will we invest our sense of self in that which is of true and ultimate worth? Whatever we value, that’s where our sense of self resides, for where your treasure is there will your heart – your inner, true, self – be also.

We are what we value, and we will remain in a state of spiritual alienation until and unless we invest our sense of self in that which is ultimately real and true. So the teaching of Jesus is this: if you would be perfect, that is to say complete, most fully who and what you really are – as opposed to a mere likeness of something or someone else – if you would participate in the fullness of life that is life itself, then you must let go of your attachments, your sense of I, me and mine in relation to all that belongs to this world of change and decay. And this isn’t just a matter of shedding a load of material possessions. It means giving up the sense of attachment to everything with which we identify as I, me and mine, everything we think we own and everything we think we are. That includes things, of course, but it also includes ideas and opinions too. All of it. And most of all, the notion of the owner.

This is one of the most compelling of the many stories that Jesus told. Hearing it being read in church inspired St Antony to give up the world and become a monk. Reading about this episode in the Life of St Antony finally nudged St Augustine to become a Christian. And whilst I can hardly claim to belong in their company, the fact is that I too, like many, many others, have been deeply moved and inspired by this story. It haunted me repeatedly as I wrestled with the call to ordination. And it has continued to inform my path ever since, because the truth of the matter is, we are all the rich young man in one way or another. I don’t personally have a lot of money, or wealth in the literal sense, but I do ‘possess’ much that is valuable to me, such as my desires to enjoy and experience life, my skills and talents, the things I have achieved or still wish to accomplish, the comforts and conveniences to which I have grown accustomed, and so on. Like the rich young man, I am unable to give up the things to which I am most attached – in which, to be more precise, my sense of identity is most heavily invested – and therefore I am unable to break free from the conditioning that keeps me trapped in I-centredness and the resulting suffering and unsatisfactoriness that is the human condition.

Give it all up, says Jesus, and follow me on the path of self-emptying that leads to fullness. This is about renouncing the notion of separation between self and other, between subject and object. It is an invitation to give up possession in favour of relationship, to give up the notion of being an isolated self in a world of objects and see instead that those objects are selves in their own right too. It is an invitation to wholeness and unity in God, the ground of being we all share.

Evidently this wasn’t what the rich young man wanted to hear. We are told that in response, ‘he went away grieving, for he had many possessions’. Ironically, the thing he lacked was the lack of attachment. Interestingly, a different word is used for possessions here, one that more explicitly refers to property. He simply had lots of stuff, lots of things preventing him from being free. Freedom – contrary to what the consumer society would have us believe – is not necessarily the outcome of having enough money to be able to fulfil all our desires. Quite the opposite, in fact. Wealth, by which of course I mean not only material possessions but whatever we ‘own’ or value – our attachments, in other words – is more likely to inhibit our freedom and make us its slave. To invest our ‘treasure’, or what we most value, in ‘heaven’, or that which is permanent, by contrast, is to identify with what really matters, that which is not transient but eternal. And the only thing that is eternal is God, for God is simply a word for that which is ultimately real and true.