September/October 2001
What God Really Wants From You
by Steve Brown
Do you remember the story about the rich young ruler who came to Jesus? You will find it in Luke 18:18-27 (also in Matthew 19 and Mark 10).
I've always been puzzled by that incident in the ministry of Jesus. I've often taught it, read it hundreds of times, repeatedly analyzed it -- and yet, I've always felt that I had missed something important in the text.
I think I've found what I missed and I can hardly wait to share it with you.
Of course, I could be wrong. I once thought that I had worked out the perennial theological problem of God's sovereignty and our freedom. I was going to be famous for having finally understood how God could be sovereign and I could be free at the same time.
I would write books, be invited to lecture before the theological faculties of the world and maybe even be commended by Billy Graham and the Pope. The problem was that it was in the middle of the night, and I was tired and sleepy. I said to myself, "In the morning, I'll work out the details, prepare the document and send it to a publisher."
The next morning I could hardly wait to get to work. Problem was that when I sat down at the desk, I couldn't remember what I had worked out the night before. Still can't.
So, let me explain what I've found before I forget.
When we read or teach the story of the rich, young ruler, the thing we always emphasize is his riches, "He went away sorrowful because he had great possessions." That, of course, is one way to look at it. Riches really can eat a hole in your heart and cause you to run from Jesus -- and to do it with great sorrow.
However, I think we have emphasized the wrong thing. We ought to emphasize the going away and not the great possessions. "He went away sorrowful because he had great possessions." In other words, the difficulty with the rich, young ruler wasn't his riches -- it was his leaving.
Let me remind you of another text. In John 6, Jesus has just said some harsh things about following him. The crowd listened, was shocked and decided that this wasn't what they had signed on for. They were packing their bags and leaving.
Then Jesus, in a question reflecting great pathos, loneliness and fear -- yes, Jesus experiences those things, too -- Jesus asks his disciples, "Are you also going away?" (verse 67).
That is when Peter says, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life."
Peter, you've got it! I do think you've got it!
If you came to Jesus and he found the one thing in your life -- your besetting sin, your addiction, your great love -- the one thing that kept you from being totally committed and totally his, what would you say? In other words, let's suppose that Jesus said to you:
"You lack one thing. You are doing okay in most places, but you lack just one thing give up your family, give up your business, give up your dream, give up that relationship, give up your house, your ministry, your health or whatever and come and follow me," what would you say?
If you're the rich, young ruler you would just leave. It would be hard to leave, but you would leave.
So many of us do that. I used to do it a lot (until I became the spiritual giant who now writes to you). It wasn't that I didn't want to follow.
I genuinely wanted to be his totally and completely. The problem wasn't in my spirit; it was in my flesh.
Did you hear about the little turtle who starts to climb a tree? The little turtle took hours to get up to the top branch of the tree and then, flapping his little arms and legs, jumped. Of course, he hit the ground with great force and possible injury. Nevertheless, the little turtle picked himself up and began the laborious task of climbing the tree again. After hours of painstaking climbing, he once again reached the top limb on the tree, flapped his arms and legs and jumped with the same result as before.
As the little turtle picked himself up to climb the tree yet again, there were two robins sitting on another tree, watching all of this. The female robin turned to her mate and said, "I don't care what you say. I'm going to tell him he's adopted!"
That's our problem. We're adopted. The natural, begotten and beloved Son of God could live out a perfect life. He could be totally obedient to the Father. In fact, because he was, he became our sacrifice.
However, just like the turtle, we aren't Jesus. I know, I know. We can do all things through Christ who strengthens us -- but can we talk? Maybe you can. I've tried, and I can't. Don't get me wrong, I can do more things than I did before because Christ strengthens me, but all things? What? Are you crazy?
As you know, Peter couldn't do all things either. He had some serious problems with commitment, denial and hypocrisy (see Galatians 2:11-13). But his original statement to Jesus was still the same. He never left. He was sinful, afraid and unable to live out the kind of life he knew he should live -- but he never went away.
Me neither.
Jesus, I've got all kinds of things I'm having trouble giving up and all kinds of things I ought to do and, for whatever reason, can't do -- but I'm here. I simply don't have any other place to go.
Let me give you a great quote from a really good book. The book is The Sacred Romance written by Brent Curtis and John Eldredge. They ask, "What does God want from us?" And then this:
We've been offered many explanations. From one religious camp we're told that what God wants is obedience, or sacrifice, or adherence to the right doctrine, or morality. Those are the answers offered by conservative churches. The more therapeutic churches suggest that no, God is after our contentment, or happiness, or self-actualization, or something else along those lines. He is concerned about all these things, of course, but they are not his primary concern. What he is after is "us" -- our laughter, our tears, our dreams, our fears, our heart of hearts. We've never been wanted for our heart, our truest self, not really, not for long. The thought that God wants our heart seems too good to be true.
If I had been in the crowd observing the rich, young ruler and
if I had seen him walk away, I would have said to him, "No, no. Go back to him! He knows your greed and your sin. He knows how the riches have eaten a hole in your heart. Just go to him and don't leave. The worse thing you can do isn't to stay rich -- it is to go away sorrowful. Let him worry about what you can't do. Just let him love you."
I suspect that some of us don't go to Jesus because we aren't good enough, because we can't give up something that is hurting us, or because we feel so guilty. The greatest sin you have in your life isn't that -- it's being away from him. Just go to him.
He will just be glad that you came.
He told me to tell you.
-- Steve Brown