By Steven Norris
As I entered the church, the scene was almost comical. My shoulders bore the load of a backpack containing my laptop, iPad, notebooks, and other work paraphernalia. In my left hand was a canvas tote full of camera accessories. A tripod was slipping from where I thought I had it secured under my arm. My right forearm desperately tried to hold the camera bag that had fallen off my shoulder and my right hand clutched a second camera bag.
As I approached the door, I swung my left hip in the general direction of the keypad, hoping that I could get close enough for the sensor to detect the key fob in my pocket and unlock the door. Crossing the threshold, the tripod finally wiggled loose and fell between my shuffling feet, causing me to stumble, yet falling just short of sprawling onto the linoleum floor.
If that is not a metaphor for my life right now, I don’t know what is. Mark 10 tells the story of a man who likewise came to Jesus with his hands full. He had no camera equipment when he asked Jesus what he needed to inherit eternal life, but his hands were full. There were things that weighed him down and hindered his pursuit of Jesus.
Mark tells us, “Jesus looked at him and loved him.” How had I missed that detail in all my past readings of this passage? Jesus loved him. We know where this story is going. We know that Jesus is going to tell the man he lacks one thing — that he needs to sell everything that he has and give it to the poor. We know that Jesus is going to invite him to come follow without burden of hinderance. Yet, we know that the man will go away sorrowful because he has many possessions.
The part that I missed was Jesus’ motivation. He is not trying to test the man or trap him in his sin. He wasn’t trying to be punitive or punish him either. Jesus desired the man’s freedom. Jesus wanted his heart released from the things that were holding him captive and imprisoning his soul. Jesus loved him and wanted God’s best for the man.
The realization hit me: I often choose my own chains. My own hands construct the prison that constrains me. Faced with the possibility of freedom, I choose bondage because it is all I know. Jesus’ invitation to let go of that which holds me back may initially feel like a loss. However, its source is Christ’s love for me and a profound commitment to my freedom.
All of us must wrestle with what Dietrich Bonhoeffer called “the cost of discipleship.” We much confront the load of “treasures” we carry with us each day. Sometimes those treasures weigh us down and threaten to trip us with each step. Following the Way of Jesus consists in learning what to set down so that we have hands free to receive that which matters most.