John Piper is a Christian pastor and author of a book called “God Is the Gospel,” and in it challenges Christians with this question: “If you could have heaven, with no sickness, and with all the friends you ever had on earth, and all the food you ever liked, and all the leisure activities you ever enjoyed, and all the natural beauties you ever saw, all the physical pleasures you ever tasted, and no human conflict or any natural disasters, could you be satisfied with heaven, if Christ was not there?”
Of course there is no version of heaven without Christ, and heaven is perfect in every way only because he is there. And on the day we arrive we’ll have Jesus and everything else he has promised us. But strictly speaking, this question doesn’t have anything to do with heaven. It’s a question about here and now-where our hearts are. It’s a question of what we really want.
In the gospel today, the rich young man asked a salvation question, but at the heart of it, it’s really about here and now. It’s a matter of life and death, and he clearly wanted life. He wanted salvation. He wanted to know God. He was a man I think any of us would call “good.” He was involved in his church - the gospel of Luke calls him a ruler, that is, the man in charge of the affairs of his local synagogue, meaning he had the respect and trust of his community. Look at how he presented himself to Jesus, running to him, throwing himself down on the ground in front of him, addressing him as “good teacher.” He was uncommonly humble and respectful. Ever since his childhood he had worked to keep the law, to please God, and it seems he had a conscience sensitive enough to recognize that none of that was enough. He asked, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”
The exact question we dream about hearing from our unbelieving friends. Have you considered how you would answer? Maybe your mind goes to the jailer at Philippi from Acts 16. Remember, a miraculous earthquake had flung open all the doors of the prison where Paul and Silas were being held. When the jailer saw, he assumed all the prisoners had fled. Terrified of the consequences, he was about to kill himself, but Paul cried out, “Don’t harm yourself! We are all here!” The jailer ran in, fell to the ground trembling and asked, “What must I do to be saved?” Paul and Silas gave this simple and beautiful answer: “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved.”
Why didn’t Jesus say that? When the actual Redeemer of mankind was asked nearly the same question, “What must I do to inherit eternal life,” he pointed to the law. Don’t commit adultery. Don’t murder. Don’t steal. Don’t lie. Don’t cheat. Honor your parents. The answer was different, because the person asking the question was different. This man Jesus was talking to wasn’t afraid of God; he was confident. He expected God to be pleased with him and his efforts. He said, “All these I have kept since I was a boy.” Then, so that we wouldn’t think that Jesus would inflict unnecessary pain, we get a glimpse of Jesus’ heart. Mark wrote: “Jesus looked at him and loved him.”
Jesus’ love is what frames this whole account for us. Jesus’ overwhelming, unrelenting love for sinners is why he stopped to talk about the law with a man who had made the law his whole life. His love is why he isn’t content to be second place in our hearts, because love wants the best for the ones you love. And the best thing, the greatest good in the universe, is God. And his desire to bring us to God is behind every word, every action. His humble birth, his life of perfect obedience, (he really did keep all those laws from the time he was a boy). In love he put his disciples within earshot of this conversation with a rich young man, so they would learn this lesson too, that the law cannot save us. The only way for us to have the greatest good, to have God, is for Jesus to be good for us and for Jesus to die for us. And so he went on to Jerusalem, to a cross, and offered up his life to satisfy God’s wrath.
Everything he does is love. That’s how we know that what comes next is not cruelty, but kindness. Even though he knew it would make the man walk away, Jesus added one more law. Not one of the Ten Commandments, and not one applied universally to all of his disciples. This one was specifically for this man. Jesus told him to give it all away—everything he had—and then to follow. And it’s like this man understood the law for the first time in his life. He was appalled at the thought of it, and he walked away from Jesus, because he liked being rich. What Jesus asked seemed like too much.
Jesus placed a burden on his heart that was so heavy that he could no longer deny that an idol lived there, and when he had to choose between money and God, he chose money. Up to this point his idolatry had been a secret sin, hidden from everyone, maybe even to himself. But hidden idols are seen clearly by our God. We read in Hebrews 4: “no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account.”
God could see his idolatry, but the disciples couldn’t. They watched all this happen, and if they were surprised that someone would refuse such a gracious invitation from the Messiah himself, the text doesn’t record it. They were surprised, but it was at Jesus. After the man left, Jesus said, “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God.” That’s what surprised them, that this “good” man wasn’t good enough. And if he’s not good enough, what hope is there for anyone? They shouldn’t have been surprised. Jesus had said it from the beginning, “No one is good—except God alone.”
Our consciences tell us the same thing when we try to answer this question: Could we be satisfied with heaven if Christ was not there? Now, heaven, that’s off in the distance. That’s the future. This is a question that we have to answer here and now. Let me put it a different way: Could we be satisfied with earth, with this life, if Christ was not here? When we put it like that as a simple choice between, on the one hand, the Creator of all things, the Redeemer of mankind, along with all his blessings and promises, and on the other hand...stuff—it’s not a hard decision to make. But this isn’t a rhetorical question. We have to make that choice every day, every minute, and how we choose to spend our time, our energy, our money—each decision comes from a heart that is either satisfied with Christ and his promises, or is seeking satisfaction somewhere else.
And we come to the same terrifying realization that the jailer at Philippi did, and the same the disciples did: what God demands is impossible. He tells us to be good. And not in the way the rich man initially applied it to Jesus, but in the sense that Jesus applied it to God. He tells us to be perfect, to be as good as God. We ask with the disciples, “Who then can be saved?” Jesus’ answer: “With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God.”
It has been said that in God are oceans of love, and not a drop of it comes to us apart from the person of Jesus Christ. The young man thought he could go around Jesus, to go directly to God, and yet, here we see Jesus, with oceans of love flowing through him, directed toward this young man, toward his disciples, and even toward us. He looked at us, he loved us, and did what was impossible. He carried out God’s plan for salvation, every step something impossible for man. He took on our humanity so he could be good in our place by keeping every law, then he made satisfaction for God’s wrath by willingly offering up his life as the payment for our sin. He made us righteous. He made us good to God. Then, he rose from the dead, impossible for man, but possible for God. And now for us it’s not just possible, it’s certain. We will rise, and we will inherit the kingdom of God, and live there with him forever.
This is his invitation: to have all of the blessings that come from knowing him. This is his call. It’s not a call to poverty; it’s a call to discipleship. To know him, to follow him, to always want more and more of him, and never to be satisfied with anything less than all of him, even if it means giving up those things that compete for our devotion and our attention. And as Christ-followers, we can even do that joyfully, because he has given us true satisfaction, peace with God, forgiveness of sins, true righteousness, and the promise of eternal treasure in heaven. All this because, though we are law-breakers, we have a Savior who placed our salvation over his own good and sacrificed everything to forgive and save us. Jesus wasn’t satisfied with heaven without you and me there. In Jesus’ name. Amen.