A Rich Man Sells All Of His Possession

When I told my father what I was going to do, he slapped my face and called me a fool. Then he talked to his brother, a lawyer, and they tried to stop me. He said I lost my mind. I thought I did too.

This is what happened. I had followed the Law since my youth, but there was a soul-sickness within me that the Law couldn’t heal. My wealthy friends drank expensive wines and feasted almost every night, while I walked the streets of the city alone, wrapped in my coat, searching for something I couldn’t name. I couldn’t enjoy my wealth with the ease and comfort of my friends, and I felt embarrassed that my mind was burdened with such heavy questions about ultimate things. My friends laughed and slapped me on the back. They told me I was too sensitive.

I heard a lot of amazing stories about this traveling preacher named Jesus. So I searched for him and found him. I knelt before him and asked what I needed to do to inherit eternal life. I was struck by the affectionate way he looked at me. It was as if we were long lost friends or something- like we were kindred spirits. He looked at me with love, and told me I lacked one thing. He told me to sell my possessions and give the money to the poor, and then come follow him. I was shocked. I walked away grieving, not because I was going to keep my possessions, but because I knew I was going to give them away.

I sold it all at an auction. I buried my face in my hands and burst into tears as each of my possessions, one by one, was sold. A kind stranger put his arm around me, but I was inconsolable. Turns out my possessions came to a couple hundred thousand denarii. I exchanged the denarii for silver and gold, and went out and gave it all to eight or nine families I always saw begging at the town gate. One of the mothers was so ragged and dirty, her frail children hanging from her arms. When I gave her a bag of silver and gold, she looked inside it- and collapsed. Her family rushed over and knelt down around her. As I watched, the thought struck me that handing a stranger my life possessions wasn’t such a great idea. When the others saw what was in the bag they looked at me like I was crazy, with suspicion even. They slowly backed away from me, as if I had leprosy. I thought, ‘This is so stupid,’ and I walked away.

I felt the emptiness grow inside me. The soul-sickness became even more bitter. My possessions were gone. Then my arms and legs felt suddenly stunned. I was shocked by the realization that I was now poor myself. I felt flush, and couldn’t breathe correctly. I was second-guessing myself. Maybe I was crazy and it was all a mistake- a mistake worth a lifetime of fortune and ease. Why’d I listen to that fanatic! Now these beggars had more than me- for nothing! I fell into a fever as I started to walk towards home, except now I didn’t have a home… because I sold it. I felt more and more dizzy, and staggered around like a drunk, not sure where to go. People on the street were staring at me, trying to avoid me, afraid to draw near. And then I got sick and fell down, and the world around me turned to black.

—

I awoke to a kiss. I opened my eyes and it was the poor woman I gave the money to, the one who fainted by the city gates. She was kissing my head, and she brushed the matted hair from my fevered brow. I was in her tiny apartment. There were three or four families living with her in that tiny space. I vaguely remembered them. She told me that her family was going to buy a farm on the outskirts of town with the money, and work the land with the other families. She thanked me profusely and kept kissing me. She told me she went to the market and bought enough food for a feast to celebrate, and invited all the beggars from the city and countryside.

We ate well that night. I looked around the table at the people who were previously begging at the gates. They looked different to me now. Or perhaps it was I that changed. These people had joy in their eyes, and I thought, ‘They are not starving now.’

The inward sickness has been lifted from me like a bad spell. The emptiness inside of me that I spoke of earlier is an inadequate metaphor. Looking back now, it was more like the awful purging of a soul-destroying identity that I clung to- a frightened rich man worried so much about his wealth, his reputation, his status with his friends. What a waste of time.

Now, much to my own surprise, I’m a traveling preacher myself. I go from town to town working odd jobs here and there. Although I’m often hungry, I don’t worry where my next job is coming from, or where I’ll stay. My jobs are only a means of telling others what I know and love and felt. Jesus traveled to Jerusalem and was murdered by the Romans. That didn’t surprise me, actually. From what I heard him preaching, I’m surprised it didn’t happen earlier. Yet, he was raised from the dead and lives on. I’m the one who no longer lives, but he who loves me lives in me, and I’ll live forever with him.

I find myself fascinated by the most common things. I watched an insect crawl across my hand last night. The beauty of its wings in the moonlight. The subtle shade of colors, its legs and antennae, looking like an alien winged traveler from another universe. I fully see the miracle of this life before me. The kingdom of God is all around me. It was always there, but I was too blind with fear and worry to notice it. I feel the fullness of life. It tingles in my fingertips and my toes. Even more, I wake in the morning and I can’t wait to rise and tell the people I meet about him, to have the hope that they will experience something of what I feel, or maybe even more than I feel. I’m walking into the wilds of the kingdom of God. I’ve already stepped more than halfway into the world to come, which is simply this world fully alive.

The sun was down and it was dusk when I found him standing by the side of the road, sharing a meal with some roadside beggars. He still walks this earth in the hidden glory of his resurrection. It was almost dark, but he saw me and remembered me. He threw his arms around me and laughed. I didn’t have to tell him what I did. He knew. And he didn’t seem surprised. We talked for a while, and then he kissed me and set off up the road. I could see the lights of Jerusalem in the distance.

The Shadows of Locked Gates

19 “There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. 20 And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, 21 who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. 22 The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. 23 In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. 24 He called out, “Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.’ 25 But Abraham said, “Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. 26 Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.’ 27 He said, “Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father’s house— 28 for I have five brothers—that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.’ 29 Abraham replied, “They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.’ 30 He said, “No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.’ 31 He said to him, “If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’ ” Luke 16:19-31

If we retreat behind
the shadows of locked gates,
and dine alone in the
deadness of idle lives.
If fine clothes adorn the
elegant frame of dead bones,
and many possessions
kill our compassion,
Save us O Lord.
Help us see the emptiness
of false worship.
Prick our callous hearts
and let them bleed a little.
So that dull eyes widen
and stopped ears open
to the untamable cry of your prophets
and the wisdom of old Moses,
who taught us not to pervert
the justice due the sojourner,
or the fatherless, the needy,
and to open thy hand wide
unto thy brother in need.

A Rich Man Sells All His Possessions

When I told my father what I was going to do, he slapped my face and called me a fool. Then he talked to his brother, a lawyer, and they tried to stop me. He said I lost my mind. I thought I did too. I was an earnest man. I followed the law since my youth. But there was a soul sickness within me that the law couldn’t heal.

This is what happened. I heard about this traveling preacher named Jesus, and I ran up to him and knelt before him and asked him what I needed to do to inherit eternal life. I was struck by the way he looked at me. There was so much affection in his eyes. He looked at me as if he recognized me from long ago, like we were long lost friends or something- like we were kindred spirits.

I sensed that he knew how lonely I was. My wealthy friends laughed, ate and drank late almost every night, while I walked the streets of the city alone, wrapped in my coat, isolated, searching for something I couldn’t name. I couldn’t enjoy my wealth with the ease and comfort of my friends. And I felt embarrassed that such heavy questions about ultimate things plagued me so much. My friends laughed and slapped me on the back and told me I was too sensitive. They said I think too much.

But the wandering preacher told me I lacked one thing. He told me to sell my possessions, and give the money to the poor, and come follow him. I was shocked and walked away grieving, not because I was going to keep my possessions, but because I knew I was going to give them away.

I sold it all at an auction, and I buried my face in my hands and burst into tears. I cried uncontrollably through the whole thing. A kind stranger put his arm around me, but I was inconsolable. Turns out my possessions came to a couple hundred thousand denarii. I exchanged the denarii for silver and gold, and went out and gave it all to eight or nine families who I always saw begging at the gates of town. One of the mothers was so ragged and dirty, her children hanging on her arms were so thin. When I gave her a bag of silver and gold, she looked inside it and her legs gave out from under her. She fainted. Her family rushed over and knelt down around her. The thought struck me that handing a stranger my life possessions wasn’t such a good idea. When the others saw what was in the bag they looked at me like I was crazy, with suspicion even. I thought, ‘This is so stupid,’ and I walked away.

I felt a hole inside me, and it widened. My possessions were gone. I suddenly felt stunned in my arms and legs, shocked by the realization that I was now poor. Then I second guessed myself. Maybe I was crazy and it was all a mistake- a mistake worth a lifetime of fortune. Why’d I listen to that fanatic! Now these beggars had more than me. I fell into a fever, and then I started to walk towards home, except that now I didn’t have a home… because I gave it away to a poor man. I felt more and more dizzy, and stumbled around like a drunk, not sure where to go. People on the street were staring at me, trying to avoid me, afraid to draw near. And then I got sick and fell down into a spiraling blackness…

I awoke to the feeling of being pecked. But I opened my eyes and it was the poor woman who I gave the money to, the one who fainted by the city gates. She was kissing my head, and she brushed the matted hair from my fevered forehead. I was in her tiny apartment. There were three or four different families living with her in that tiny space. I vaguely remembered them. She told me that her family was going to buy a farm on the outskirts of town with the money, and work the land with the other families. She thanked me profusely and kept kissing me. She told me she went to the market and bought enough food for a feast to celebrate, and she invited all the beggars from the city and countryside. We ate well that night. I looked around at dinner at the people who were previously begging at the gates. They looked different to me now. These people had a hope-filled joy in their eyes, and I thought, ‘These families are not starving now.’

The inward sickness has been lifted from me like a bad spell. The hole inside of me that I spoke of earlier is an inadequate metaphor. Looking back now, it was more like the awful purging of a soul destroying identity that I clung to- a frightened rich man worried so much about his wealth, his reputation, his status with his friends. What a stupid waste of time.

Now, much to my own surprise, I’m a traveling preacher myself. I go from town to town working odd jobs here and there. I don’t worry where my next job is coming from, or where I’ll stay. My jobs are only a means of telling others what I know and love and felt. Jesus went to Jerusalem and was murdered by the Romans. That didn’t surprise me actually. From what I heard him preaching, I’m surprised it didn’t happen earlier. Yet, he was raised from the dead and lives on. I’m the one who no longer lives, but he who loves me lives in my heart, and I’ll live forever with him.

I find myself fascinated by the most common things. I watched an insect crawl across my hand last night. The beauty of its wings in the moonlight. The subtle shade of colors, its legs and antennae, looking like an alien winged traveler from another universe. I fully see the miracle of this life before me. The kingdom of God is all around me. It was always there, but I was too blind with worry to notice it. I feel something like the palpability of life. It tingles in my fingertips and in my toes. Even more, I wake in the morning and I can’t wait to rise and tell the people I meet about him, to have the hope that they will experience something of what I feel, or maybe even more than I feel. I’m walking into the wilds of the kingdom of God, and I’ve already stepped more than halfway into the world to come, which is simply this world fully alive.

The sun was down and it was dusk when I found him standing by the side of the road, sharing a meal with some roadside beggars. He still walks this earth in the hidden glory of his resurrection. It was almost dark, but he saw me and remembered me. He threw his arms around me and laughed. I didn’t have to tell him what I did. He knew. And he didn’t seem surprised. We talked for a while, and then he kissed me and set off up the road. I could see the lights of Jerusalem in the distance.