The Rich Young Ruler Asks About Eternal Life (Mark 10:17-31)
Introduction to Mark 10:17-31
Liturgy influenced by this passage is found HERE.
Picture this—someone walks into your office or home, or they ask you out for coffee. You are seated across from one another and it is clear they are not just searching for words, they are searching for something more. You can sense it in their eyes, their posture, and the weight they carry. It permeates every thought and flavors their every word. That’s the rich young ruler we meet in this passage. He approaches Jesus not with arrogance but with a burning question, one that speaks to the core of human existence: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”
This man seems to have it all. He’s successful, young, devout—a model of achievement by any worldly standard. But there’s a restlessness inside him, something he can’t shake. He’s followed the rules, lived morally, checked all the boxes. And yet, he knows something’s missing.
Now, watch what happens next. Jesus looks at him. Really looks at him. Mark tells us Jesus “looked at him and loved him.” Let’s pause on that for a moment. This isn’t a cold exchange or a test to expose failure. This is Jesus, seeing the whole man—his successes, his longings, his inner turmoil—and responding with love. What follows isn’t a trick or an impossible demand; it’s an invitation. Jesus says the one thing this man needs to hear so the man can see what’s holding him back. He needs to let go.
And that, right there, is where we’re headed today. We’re going to take a closer look at this man—who he was, what was really going on in his heart, and why Jesus’ response, so simple yet so radical, still challenges us. We’ll dig into what this moment teaches us about our own relationship with possessions and security.
1. The Rich Young Ruler: Who Was He?
Let’s start with the man himself. The Gospels paint him as having three things going for him: wealth, youth, and authority. First, he’s rich. Not just well-off, but truly wealthy—someone who has all the comforts and securities money can provide. Based on the research I’ve read, about 90% of the people in first-century Palestine lived at subsistence. He is above the fray of just surviving. Second, he’s young. Youth, in this context, means vitality, potential, and the kind of success that comes early in life. Finally, he’s a ruler. Scholars debate whether this meant civic or religious leadership, but either way, he had influence. He had power.
So, by the standards of his day—and, let’s be honest, by the standards of our day—this man had arrived. He had everything the world says should make you happy. And yet, here he is, standing before Jesus, asking, “What more? What do I have to do to feel peace?”
This is where it gets personal, not just for him but for all of us. You see, the rich young ruler isn’t just a historical figure; he’s a stand-in for all of us at some point in life. We might not have his wealth or power, but we’ve all wrestled with that same question: Have I done enough? Am I enough? What else do I need to secure my place in this world? In the next? When my days are done, how do I know God is at peace with me?
And notice the word he uses: inherit. He’s not asking how to earn eternal life; he’s asking how to inherit it, how to get it passed down to him. It’s a word loaded with meaning—suggesting privilege, entitlement, and the assumption that there’s a transaction to be made, something to be acquired, something done that flips the switch.
But here’s where Jesus flips the script.
2. The Idol of Possessions: Jesus Exposes the Heart
When the young man asks what more he must do, Jesus starts by listing some of the Ten Commandments. And the ruler responds confidently, “I’ve kept all these since I was a boy.” Now, outwardly, this man seems righteous. He’s done everything right. But Jesus knows there’s something deeper going on here.
Jesus sees the man’s heart, and sees the real barrier. So, he says, “Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”
Let’s not misunderstand this. Jesus isn’t saying that wealth is inherently bad or that everyone must give away all their possessions. If so, we are all doomed. No, Jesus is speaking directly to this man’s heart. He knows that wealth, for this young ruler, is more than just a comfort. It’s his security, his identity. It’s his protective layer that keeps him from having to trust God. It’s the one thing standing between him and the life God is offering him.
And that’s what makes this moment so powerful. Jesus isn’t asking him to lose everything; He’s inviting him to gain everything. But to do that, the man has to let go. He has to release his grip on the very thing that’s keeping him from freedom.
3. “Jesus Loved Him”: The Heart of the Gospel
There’s a crucial detail in this story that we can’t overlook: “Jesus looked at him and loved him.” That love is everything. The word used for love literally represents deep, unconditional love. It is the kind of love that is based on choice and commitment rather than just emotion or feeling. It transforms what could feel like a harsh demand into a moment of grace. Jesus isn’t trying to prove a point or win an argument. Jesus loves him unconditionally by exposing to the man that he doesn’t own possessions, but that his possessions are owning him. He’s offering the young man freedom.
This is the heart of the Gospel. When Jesus calls us to let go—whether it’s of possessions, status, or any other idol in our lives—He’s not asking for blind sacrifice. He’s inviting us into something better. He’s offering us a life of deeper purpose, a life rooted in trust and dependence on God, not on the things we can accumulate. Yes, hearing the truth stings, stinks, and hurts, but unconditional love is committed to your liberation.
Jesus told a story elsewhere about the rich man and Lazarus. Lazarus was a poor, destitute beggar outside of the rich man’s gated home. The rich man ignored Lazarus every day and through lavish feasts at night. When they both die and are judged by God, Lazarus is judged favorably while the rich man isn’t. The rich man wasn’t condemned simply because he was wealthy, but because his wealth not only blinded him to the needs of others but was almost an extension of his personhood. It had hardened his heart.
Jesus, in this moment, wants to spare the young ruler from the same fate. That’s love. He loves him too much to let him cling to something that will ultimately destroy him.
In another passage, Jesus talks similarly about a man with a Full Barn but with an Empty Heart.
4. The Challenge of Letting Go: Tension and Sadness
But then comes the heartbreaking part. The young man walks away. He walks away sad because he had great wealth. He wanted eternal life, but he couldn’t bear the thought of giving up temporary provision.
This is the tension that many of us feel when we’re confronted with the cost of following Jesus and living in alignment with our values and our faith. We want the freedom he offers, but we’re not sure we can let go of the things that are holding us back.
For the young man, it was his wealth. For others, it might be status, relationships, control, or something that makes us feel above other people. Whatever it is, Jesus calls us to release it—not to deprive us, but to set us free.
5. With God All Things are Possible: Salvation Is a Gift
The disciples’ stomachs dropped just as far as ours are right now. They are stunned and ask, “Who then can be saved?” If even this successful, righteous man can’t do it, who can? And here’s where Jesus offers the hope that changes everything: “With man, this is impossible, but not with God. All things are possible with God.”
In other words, salvation isn’t something we achieve. It’s a gift. It’s not about checking all the boxes or following all the rules perfectly. It’s about trusting in God’s grace, a grace that meets us where we are and calls us to something greater.
The rich young ruler’s mistake was thinking that eternal life could be acquired like wealth or status. But Jesus shows us that it’s not about what we can do—it’s about what God has already done for us.
By faith we connect with God and God’s grace works in us, loosens our grip on those lesser things, and shows us the better way to walk.
Yes, he walked away sad, but he could have stepped forward and said like another man said elsewhere, “Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.”
He could have exclaimed, “Jesus, how can this be? Teach me how to trust. Free my soul from this entrapment.”
Closing
If the rich young ruler is a stand-in for us, then we are faced with a question. The text says, “At this, the man’s face fell. He went away sad because he had great wealth.”
Jesus told him to go and sell. Is he walking away to sell? Or is he going back to maintain the status quo that is so disenchanting to him?
his moment is not just about the young man; it echoes in our own lives. Are we willing to confront what holds us back from fully following Jesus and living in the joy of God’s salvation? Are we ready to let go of the comforts and securities that tether us to a life of dissatisfaction? The decision rests with us. Will we walk away sad, burdened by our attachments, believing they offer comfort, solace, and life? Or will we step into the unknown, trusting that true fulfillment lies not in what we possess, but in who we follow—even if our following is imperfect?
Jesus extends the invitation: “Go and cut yourself loose from that.” The question is, how will we respond?
