Selling Everything, Surrendering The “That”

Every year we hear this gospel about the rich good young man who went away sad because he had many possessions.

We don’t know what the rest of the story is, so to speak.

Did he go home and stew? Go home and weep? Start to pare back and sell everything, only to find the Rabbi he’d followed had been crucified? Did he become an early Christian, whose name we do not know?

However his question gave us the univeral answer from our Lord. He’d kept all the commandments from his youth and called the Lord good. He asked the Lord what all of us ask, “What must we do to gain eternal life?”

Our response to God when he answers is often at first, like that of the rich young man. “Not that.”
God wants our whole heart, and it usually involves going into the desert of our lives, and living with that reality, that hardness until the desert does what deserts do –wear us down to the point of surrendering the “not that” because God asked.

God wants the “that.”

So when Christ says “Sell everything.” it means surrender the “that” keeping you from Him, keeping you from loving your neighbors. It may be your distrust. Might be cynicism. Could be hate. Letting go of hurts. Forgiving those who outrage you. Serving those who need. Washing the feet. It could be as radical as Saint Francis of Assisi even if it doesn’t seem like it to the outside world. God knows the radial nature of our surrender even if the rest of the world does not.

The question is, can we bear it? Can we bear offering our daily sufferings with our whole heart without aclaim? We can if we remember solidly, God does not work on merit badges. God loves us and wants our love in return. God lavishly ladles graces onto those who seek, and God loves all our attempts to show His love to the world. We cannot outdo God in generosity, so we can trust whatever we do, to be remembered, weighed and measured justly.

That’s the thing. Do we really want to be measured? We know we’ll be found wanting. It’s not possible not to be. So then, do we trust in God’s mercy enough to let ourselves fall into it like one of those Nestle Ice Tea Plunge commercials?

I don’t like it when my fitbit tells me I didn’t make 1o,ooo steps. It’s dissatisfying on Goodreads to see I’m still on a book from 2015 because I haven’t updated even though I’ve read many books since. Even my daily word count demands I measure my output. None of these things give me forebearance when I didn’t complete them. The scale doesn’t forgive me either. God is both more exact and exacting, and more allowing for my failability in all things. He’d like me to be moreso.

So selling everything is not Marie Kondoing your life. It is weighing what is keeping you from God, and putting that in the offertory. Placing it on the altar and knowing God will bless what you give, and multiply the graces.