Christian Art | Jesus And The Rich Young Man | A Way Of Poverty
The Gospel Of Saint Matthew 19: 16-22 | Week 20, Monday | King James Audio Bible KJV
16 ¶ And, behold, one came and said unto him, Good Master, what good thing shall I do, that I may have eternal life?
17 And he said unto him, Why callest thou me good? there is none good but one, that is, God: but if thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments.
18 He saith unto him, Which? Jesus said, Thou shalt do no murder, Thou shalt not commit adultery, Thou shalt not steal, Thou shalt not bear false witness,
19 Honour thy father and thy mother: and, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.
20 The young man saith unto him, All these things have I kept from my youth up: what lack I yet?
21 Jesus said unto him, If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come and follow me.
22 But when the young man heard that saying, he went away sorrowful: for he had great possessions.
The passage, Matthew 19:16-22, recounts the encounter between Jesus and a wealthy young man who asked Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life. In response, Jesus told him to keep the commandments, to which the young man replied that he had done so since his youth. Jesus then told him to sell all his possessions, give the money to the poor, and follow him. The young man went away sorrowful because he had great possessions, which he finds himself unable to relinquish.
This story raises important questions about the relationship between wealth, poverty, and salvation. Jesus teaching is radical, and indeed challenges the thoughts and values of many people who identify as Christians today. Is there a way of poverty that leads to salvation? What does it mean to be poor in spirit, as Jesus teaches in the Sermon on the Mount? What do the Scriptures and religious authorities throughout history say about this topic?
In the Old Testament, there are examples of poverty and its spiritual significance. Job, for example, was a wealthy man who lost everything and was left with nothing but his faith in God. He declared, ‘Naked came I out of my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return thither: the LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.’ (Job 1:21) Through his suffering, Job learned to trust in God and to find his true wealth in his relationship with Him.
The Psalms also speak of the blessedness of the poor in spirit. Psalm 34:6 says, ‘This poor man cried, and the LORD heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles.’ And Psalm 41:1 says, ‘Blessed is he that considereth the poor: the LORD will deliver him in time of trouble.’
In the New Testament, Jesus teaches that poverty of spirit is a key to the Kingdom of Heaven. In the Sermon on the Mount, he says, ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.’ (Matthew 5:3) Jesus also warns that it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle – or the Eye of the Needle, which was a low, narrow gate in Jerusalem – than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven (Matthew 19:24).
Saint Francis of Assisi, who is known for his radical poverty and devotion to the poor, took Jesus’ words to heart and lived a life of voluntary poverty. Saint Francis saw poverty as a way to imitate Christ, who was born in a stable and lived a life of simplicity and humility. Saint Francis saw poverty as a way to detach himself from the things of this world and to focus on his relationship with God.
To this day, Franciscan friars live a life of poverty and of service to the poor. They live a life of extreme simplicity, embracing the radical message of Jesus to give away all wealth and possession.
Other Christian saints and writers have also seen poverty as a way of drawing closer to God. Saint Augustine, for example, wrote in his Confessions, ‘Thou hast commanded, and so it is, that every inordinate affection should be its own punishment.’ He saw wealth as an inordinate affection that could distract one from the love of God.
Martin Luther, father of the Protestant Reformation, also saw poverty as a way to detach oneself from the world and to focus on God. In his Treatise On Christian Liberty, he wrote, ‘The Christian man is the most free lord of all, and subject to none; the Christian man is the most dutiful servant of all, and subject to every one.’ He saw poverty as a way to be free from the tyranny of wealth and to serve others in humility.
In more recent times, Pope Francis has also emphasized the importance of poverty and simplicity in the Christian life. He has called for a ‘poor Church for the poor’ and has criticized the excesses of consumerism and materialism. He has said, ‘We need to reject the idolatry of money, and to rediscover the value of work, of solidarity, of generosity, and of compassion.’
The story of the rich young man in Matthew 19:16-22 challenges us to rethink our relationship with wealth and poverty. While it may not be inherently wrong to be wealthy, Jesus’ teachings remind us that our ultimate wealth is found in our relationship with God. Poverty, then, can be a means of detachment from the things of this world and a way to focus on our spiritual life.
As we navigate the complexities of modern life, it is helpful to turn to the wisdom of the Scriptures and the insights of religious authorities both past and present to guide us on our spiritual journey. May we all seek to cultivate a spirit of poverty and humility as we strive to follow Jesus Christ and to live out Jesus’ teachings in our daily lives.
King James Audio Bible | KJV | The King James Version | Endnotes
A Prayer To Jesus For Poverty
Dear Lord Jesus, you who chose to be born in a manger and lived a life of poverty and simplicity, we come to you seeking your help and guidance. Teach us to value the things that are truly important, such as love, compassion, and service, over the fleeting pleasures and temptations of the world.
We ask that you show us how to use our resources in ways that honour you and bless those around us. Help us to be mindful of the needs of others, especially the poor and marginalized, and to use our time, talents, and treasures to serve them.
As we seek to follow your example, we ask for your strength and grace to live a life of poverty, whether it be through voluntary simplicity or the recognition that all we have comes from you. Help us to let go of our attachment to worldly possessions and to trust in your provision and care for us.
We pray that through our poverty, we may grow in our love for you and deepen our trust in your unfailing love and mercy. May our lives be a testament to your grace and a source of hope and encouragement to those around us.
We ask these things in your holy name, Amen.
Psalm 47 is a joyful song of praise and celebration. The psalm exalts sovereignty of God as supreme King over all the earth and calls on all people to join in the triumphant chorus of worship. This psalm encapsulates themes of reverence, the universal rule of God, and the exuberant expression of devotion to the Divine [ … ]
Sometimes, when I read my Bible, I pause in the reading and say to myself: ‘This bit’s real.’ It would be fair to say, I have issues with Mary, because, contrary to what we are taught to say, Mary isn’t my mother. Rather: Mum is. One bit of the Bible-text says this: And when his family heard it, they went out to seize him, for people were saying, “He is beside himself.” … And his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside they sent to him and called him. And a crowd was sitting about him; and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers are outside, asking for you.” And he replied, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” And looking around on those who sat about him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother, and sister, and mother.” (Mark 3: 21; 31-35.) Here she comes. She is in considerable distress. I can imagine that. I can relate to that. To save her boy from whatever he’s got himself into this time. And you’re not telling me there isn’t something inside that. Her boy is beside himself. Radical. Radicalized. Radicalizing. A misunderstood word. /ˈradɪk(ə)l/ adjective & noun. 1 Forming the root, basis, or foundation; original, primary. 2a Inherent in the nature of a thing or person; fundamental. b Of action, change, an idea: going to the root or origin; far-reaching, thorough. c Advocating thorough or far-reaching change. d Characterized by departure from tradition; progressive; unorthodox. ‘He has a demon! And he is mad!’ – thus ‘the Jews’. (e.g. John 10: 20.) Come home! It’s all she wants. His family want him back now. But it is an exclusive cult: there is an inside and there is an outside; and on the outside, they are not meant to understand, lest they be converted. He has defined himself as different from anything she was. Only at the end does Jesus say to his Mum – and with savage, bitter irony: ‘Woman, behold your son.’ And then he dies. Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. We ask that we might find Mary in our hearts as a Yes! place for Jesus. It is also recommended that we pray to Jesus that we may be further in oneness with Mary. It is self-emptying, such that we only exist insofar as we are responsive to God’s Word. * Last term, and put-out to pasture, the old Archbishop Emeritus came over to stay for a few days and did the odd class with us. He spoke of Yes! as the meaning of Mary’s virginity. And we were not very nice about him. One or two took umbrage. One or two got the hump. In a sense, his Grace, the Arch, basically wanted to move anyone he’d ever known from a high-place – a mountain – received theological ‘truth’ – to an imminent, human plane. Earthing the spiritual. Recalibrating metrics of life’s believability toward a spiritual sense of things. He might have asked the impermissible question: what happened? His Grace described it. God’s love as a cloud. This descended upon Mary – and subsumed her. Within the cloud, Mary capitulated utterly. She became only and purely a response to God’s love. As he spoke, the Arch cradled her. He carried her in his lap – in his hands. His Grace was a consecrated bishop. He was faith. He sat squat, a rounded man, hands cupped and ankles crossed, fingers interlocked, with parted thighs. Rumpled, washed, speckled. A lifetime’s skin… There could be no doubt His Grace spoke through long-term personal relationship with Mary. It was Julian went for him: ‘So are you saying Mary was a Virgin? Or are you not saying Mary was a Virgin?’ Nasty. No, it wasn’t pretty. Julian twisting his silver ring. For a moment, what Julian had said to the Arch simply failed to communicate. No, for a moment, that dumped on the air meant nothing. Then His Grace said: ‘There is a range of possible meanings we may understand in the question of Mary’s virginity. For example, there are understandings of the word virginity entailed in the action of giving birth.’ Julian said: ‘Duh! So had she had sex or hadn’t she?’ Trigger words. No, it wasn’t pretty. On that went for a little while. At length, Julian’s point seemed reluctantly conceded. Then the Arch told us a new story, an additionally human event, the more to baffle us. Controversially, he told us that Mary could not have been Joseph’s first wife, for this would not have been the way of things in the society of that time. His belief was that Joseph must have taken Mary into his household through pity. That would be normal, he said, for Joseph to bring a young, vulnerable girl, who is about to have a baby, within his protection, not meaning to enjoy with her marital relations, but through kindness. ‘And this story of the inn and stable,’ the Archbishop said, ‘it can’t have been like that really. Joseph has travelled with Mary to stay with his family, at home in Bethlehem, and they don’t want Mary in their house, for reasons which I am sure we can understand. It must have been there was considerable resistance to Mary. But Mary gives birth, and who can resist a baby? That’s what happened. It must have been. ‘I’m convinced that must have been how it happened really.’ Later that term, toward the beginning of Advent, we met boys who had been here before, in Valladolid, and now were in regular seminary. They had heard and recited verbatim all the Archbishop had said to them. Their spot-on impressions of each of the fathers were scathing. […]
The second reading for Monday of the Second Week of Lent comes from the Catecheses of Saint John Chrysostom, a 4th-century Archbishop of Constantinople known for his powerful preaching and deep theological insight. In this passage, Saint John Chrysostom reflects on the significance of Christ’s blood, drawing a direct connection between the Old Testament Passover and the sacrifice of Christ in the New Testament [ … ]
