Rev. Danielle K Bartz October 10, 2021
Mark 10:17-31 “Possible”
20th century American monk Thomas Merton was beloved in his time and continues to be after his death, for his wisdom and spiritual writings. His life renewed a deep interest in monastic living, mysticism, and the intersection of social justice and faith. His life and work were inspirational. While his autobiography has become a work of enduring American literature – it is a prayer that he wrote that seems to have had an even greater impact. My guess is you have heard it before, and it is entirely possible I have read it for you before, though I cannot remember. But, either way, I want you to hear it again:
My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself,
and the fact that I think I am following your will
does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road,
though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always
though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me,
and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
“My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going.” I am not sure a more honest prayer has ever been uttered or written. Thomas Merton was a man beloved and followed. People turned to him for wisdom and guidance. People attempted to emulate his life, and continue to do so. He was a person of faith that others looked to for answers, and yet he made it clear that he lacked answers. As an act of faith, he made sure those around him had no misconceptions or assumptions about his perfection.
What I find so compelling about the person and life of Thomas Merton, and the lives of so many other imperfect faith-filled people, is how they unashamedly state that their faith is lacking. That they don’t have it all figured out. That they have heard the teachings of Jesus and have not yet been able to follow them completely.
And that is why I am so compelled by the man in today’s scripture. In the Gospel of Mark he is simply described as a man, though we learn that he was rich and had many possessions. In the Gospel of Luke he is described as a rich ruler. So, while we don’t know much about him, we know he was a man of power and influence – because in the time of Jesus, just as today, wealth connotes power. He was also a man of faith, striving to follow the rules of his religion, the commandments of Moses, and he was eager to do more. He runs up to Jesus, an act his culture would have considered beneath his position, even shameful – but he throws this cultural requirement aside in his eagerness to reach Jesus. “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” You can almost hear the excitement in his voice – the great excitement that finally he would have all the answers. That all of his striving and reaching in life would finally be rewarded.
At first, Jesus repeats what the man already knew. He knew and followed the commandments of his Jewish faith, and says he has done so since he was a child. And whether or not he had actually done so, or just said that he had done so, is completely unimportant to Jesus. Jesus hears this, looks at the man – a man of wealth, and position, and of faith – and loves him. This is the part of the story that is so often over-looked. So often we skip right past the love and move into what we feel is the heart of the lesson, that this rich man must sell all of his possessions, give up all of his wealth, and follow Jesus. He hear this with the same shock and grief that the man has – that is what we must do to inherit the Kingdom of God? Give up everything, and not just some things? Give up all we have earned, all that we longed for, a familiar and comfortable life? That is what we must do? The shock and grief of the man is echoed, I think, by everyone who hears this story – even the disciples, listening to this exchange, find it difficult – perhaps even impossible.
But this impossible lesson feels different if we remember that first Jesus loved. The lesson begins from a place of love. And when we hold on to that love, then this impossible lesson – that can too easily be dismissed in our shock and grief – becomes something possible. Jesus was not trying to set up the man for failure. None of the lessons of Jesus that we have recorded in our scriptures are meant to be impossible. They are rather invitations to what is possible. A lesson whose motivation is steeped in love is a lesson, a call, that is always filled with possibility.
The rich man in today’s story, whose life was full and abundant, recognized that he was lacking something. He knew something was still missing. And I think that is why Jesus looked upon this man with love. And I think that is why Jesus issued him, and by extension all of us, an invitation to continue to seek God with our whole selves. It will be difficult, true, but it is possible.
In the Gospel, we don’t get to hear the rest of the man’s story. He walks away in shock and grief, and Jesus continues his lesson with the disciples. But I choose to believe, that the rich man of this familiar lesson did not give up on his faith, or his desire to know and follow God. I believe Jesus’ lesson lingered with him. I believe he found himself giving more freely, letting go those things that were holding him back, and throughout the rest of his life – followed the invitation Jesus had issued him as best as he could. And I also choose to believe, that in those moments when living his faith into reality seemed impossible – he was able to remember that love in the eyes of Jesus, and impossible once again became possible.
And that brings me back to Thomas Merton, and his honest and authentic prayer. Many people looked at him and assumed that he had it all figured out. That he had been able to perfectly follow those lessons of Jesus and the Kingdom of God was well within his grasp. But Thomas Merton understood that he didn’t know what he was doing or where he was going. He understood that his faith was still lacking. And, he understood that his desire to please God, did in fact please God. I think Thomas Merton and the rich man in today’s Gospel lived parallel lives. They were filled with abundance and desire to please God, but also a recognition that they weren’t quite there yet. So, I am going to read Thomas Merton’s prayer one more time, but as you listen, I invite you to hear these words as a blessing. A blessing and a possibility. A reminder that whatever may be feeling impossible to you right now, is in fact possible.
My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself,
and the fact that I think I am following your will
does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road,
though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always
though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me,
and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
Amen.
PASTORAL PRAYER
Lord of love and light,
shine into our lives and bring your love into our souls.
Remind us of the amazing ways you have loved us,
even when we turned our backs on you.
Open our hearts to receive your loving spirit.
Open our minds to receive your wisdom.
Open our hands to show others your loving compassion.
Lord of love and light,
we hold in our hearts those around us who feel unloved.
We bring them to you for you to shine your love into their lives.
We hold in our minds those who overwhelmed by their needs and difficulties.
We hold in our hands your loving compassion to give them.
Lord of love and light,
there are people and places that are dark
and in the dark about your love.
Shine forth your light and love in their lives and in those places.
There are people and places that have closed their minds to you,
to others, to new and fresh ideas.
Shine forth your light and love to open their minds to you,
to others, to new and fresh ideas.
There are people and places that need our hands
reaching out to them with your loving compassion.
May our reaching out to them with your love and compassion,
shine forth your light and love. Amen.