What Must I Do to Inherit Eternal Life?

Bridget Penington explores what it means to be good enough for God in this powerful sermon on Luke 18:18–30. Hear how Jesus challenges a rich ruler—and us—to let go of what we cling to and follow him. A message about surrender, grace, and the God who makes the impossible possible.

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Read the transcript

Good morning. This morning's reading comes from Luke chapter 18, verses 18–30 (and if you have your Bibles handy, it's on page 1630).

A certain ruler asked him, “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
“Why do you call me good?” Jesus answered. “No one is good except God alone. You know the commandments: You shall not commit adultery; You shall not murder; You shall not steal; You shall not give false testimony; Honor your father and mother.”
“All these I have kept since I was a boy,” he said.
When Jesus heard this, he said to him, “You still lack one thing. Sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”
When he heard this, he became very sad, because he was very wealthy.
Jesus looked at him and said, “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God!
Indeed, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”
Those who heard this asked, “Who then can be saved?”
Jesus replied, “What is impossible with man is possible with God.”
Peter said to him, “We have left all we had to follow you!”
“Truly I tell you,” Jesus said to them, “no one who has left home or wife or brothers or sisters or parents or children for the sake of the kingdom of God
will fail to receive many times as much in this age, and in the age to come eternal life.”

This is the word of the Lord.

Are you a good person? Are you good enough? Am I a good person? Am I good enough? It's a bit mean of me to ask you that—you just met me, and it's not an easy question. It's also a really subjective question. I meet people who are plagued with self-doubt, who don't really like themselves. People for whom "Are you a good person?" is immediately uncomfortable. "Are you good enough?"—something they're already carrying as a weight, a worry, a burden.

But I also meet people who are self-assured, sometimes proud. People for whom "Are you a good person?" is a no-brainer. Obviously. Yes. At least better than that guy. "Are you good enough?" "Well, actually, I'm pretty great, thanks for asking." Those answers tell us something, but they're not reliable; they can be really detached from reality.

Those two people might live very similar lives. Is one really better than the other? Are they both good people, or neither? And what about me? Am I a good person? And am I a good judge of that?

We're in a series that invites us to hear the questions that Jesus asks, to bring our own questions, and to be open to unexpected answers. In our passage today, Jesus takes a question and he gives an unexpected answer. He challenges assumptions about who is good. He challenges assumptions about who is good enough for God, for heaven, for eternal life. This passage helps us to answer this question of "good enough." Well, maybe to let it go.

The Rich Ruler's Question

From verse 18: A certain ruler asked Jesus, "Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" And Jesus' initial response is a bit of a shutdown. He says, “Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone.”

Oh... I guess, sorry. That's not really how that interaction is meant to go. I say, "Good teacher, let me ask you a question." You say, "Good ruler, how can I help you?" People don't say, "What are you calling me good for?" Jesus here is breaking social norms, and he's doing it because he's challenging assumptions.

In this chapter so far, Jesus has been challenging assumptions about who is good—who does God approve of? Who can enter the kingdom of God? Earlier, Jesus told a parable about a confident, self-exalting Pharisee and a humble, sinful tax collector each praying in the temple. And Luke tells us who that parable is for (chapter 18, verse 9): to some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable—a parable that challenged their assumptions about who was approved by God, who is good. Next, Luke tells us about Jesus calling the little children to come to him, and he says (verse 17), "Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." Jesus is challenging assumptions about who can approach, who can enter the kingdom of God.

And this ruler has been listening, and he comes forward with his own question. What about me? What must I do to inherit eternal life? I'm not a tax collector. I'm not a baby. What about me? Does God think I'm good? Good enough for eternal life?

Jesus' answer is immediately unexpected, breaking the social norms. He doesn't reply by calling the ruler good. He won't even accept the title "good" for himself. This isn't going to be a comforting encounter where Jesus says, "Dear sir, you're good enough already. Don't change a thing." No, this is going to be a challenge. Jesus says, "no one is good but God alone."

And it's not because Jesus isn't good, or from some sense of humility or false humility. It's not that Jesus can't take a compliment. He didn't just get 100% on a test and then say, "Oh, how embarrassing, I didn't even study." Jesus' response—"No one is good except God alone"—hints at the bigger question. It points to God, and it points to an uncomfortable truth: You will not be good enough to inherit eternal life.

Inheritance is a big deal, and it's not the most comfortable thing to talk about—money and death, kind of the two most uncomfortable topics in one. There was a Thai movie recently, a movie that decided to tackle this topic of inheritance: How to Make Millions Before Grandma Dies. It's a story about a young uni dropout who decides that his best prospect is to ingratiate himself with his elderly grandmother—to look after her, to gain favor with her—in the hopes of getting on the will, to inherit her wealth when she dies. Some weird kind of get-rich-quick scheme, I suppose. But can you earn an inheritance? Can you buy a spot on the will? And how many little errands for Grandma would it cost? How many cups of tea? (Well, my grandma's Scottish, so it's drams of whisky. I used to live with her—we had whisky at 5:00 on a Sunday.)

Our ruler wants to earn a spot on the will, to secure an inheritance from God—an inheritance of eternal life. And he sees that Jesus might be able to offer him the assurance that he's craving. Jesus might be able to tell him what to do, or tell him that he's good, he's in. So he finds the courage and he brings his question. And apart from the awkward start, the rest of the conversation seems to be going his way. Jesus says, "You know the commandments," and then he lists five of the Ten Commandments.

It's hard to say why he chooses these five, but I suspect it's to elicit the next response. The traditional summary of the law is "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your strength," and the ruler might have hesitated to claim that he'd done that. Even "You shall not covet" might be hard to say "I've always kept that." But "You shall not murder. You shall not steal."—a bit more achievable, and the ruler has achieved them. "All these I have kept since I was a boy," he says.

Sell Everything and Follow Me

Jesus doesn't argue that point, but he asks for one more thing: “Sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” This is a massive call. Sell everything you have and give it to the poor. Give up everything. Everything. Sell everything and walk away with nothing. And then come, follow me. What an unbelievably unreasonable demand! Who would ask that? I get embarrassed even asking for small favors—I hate to be an inconvenience. And Jesus says unflinchingly, give up everything, give it to the poor, and follow me.

Sometimes, as Christians, we're tempted to try and make our faith more palatable for people. We want to lower the barrier to entry, and Jesus does lower the barrier to entry—he smashes it to a million pieces. But he doesn't make things palatable or shy away from asking too much. He's not afraid to be an inconvenience.

Jesus doesn't shy away from asking for sacrifice, for real repentance—that turning away from everything else. He doesn't say it's easy to be a Christian. He doesn't say, "You don't need to change the way you live. You don't need to give up your other beliefs, your views on money, your beliefs about sex, your superstitions, your prejudices or grudges." Jesus sees into people's hearts, and then he calls for radical sacrifice.

We don't need to be ashamed of the cost of being a Christian to make Jesus seem more attractive. It's actually when we're willing to show how much we would give up—how much we have given up and changed—that we show how attractive Jesus is.

• Why would you give up money for that?

• Why would you give up time for that?

• Why would you give up Sunday morning?

• Why would you give up your chance at love?

That one might sound a bit dramatic, but Christians are often called to walk away from romantic prospects to follow Jesus. An Indian friend of mine really felt this. Her parents were seeking to arrange a marriage for her—she really wanted that—but she refused to marry someone who wasn't a true believer. It was hard for them to understand. That was a costly choice. It felt like she was giving up her chance at love to follow Jesus. There'll be people here who have made similar costly choices.

The ruler in this passage is called to give up his money—and with it his status, his comfort, his security, his honor—to follow Jesus. And he gets to choose. Which does he want?

When Jesus said to him, "You still lack one thing... sell everything you have and give to the poor... then come, follow me," the ruler heard this and became very sad, because he was very wealthy. He decides it's not worth it. Jesus looked at him and said, "How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God! Indeed, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God."

Who Then Can Be Saved?

And those who heard this asked, "Who then can be saved?" I think everything feels easier once you've seen someone else do it first, right? That's how we know that something's doable, even possible. Some of my friends love cooking videos on the internet, and there's a million of these videos and TikToks with home cooks making amazing restaurant dishes. And there's another million of viral food hacks. And when you watch these videos, you think, "I could do that. That doesn't look so hard. If he can do it, I can probably do it too." But now there's also a million of these anti-food-hack videos—testing and debunking them. And if you watch a video of a professional chef and even they can't recreate that supposedly effortless dessert or the perfect steak with just an airfryer and an egg carton or whatever it is... if they can't do it, I can safely assume I won't be able to either. If he can't do it, I have no chance.

And the crowd who are listening to Jesus in the real world are struck by this same thought: if even he (this rich, respectable ruler) can't enter the kingdom of God, I have no chance. If it's easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle—if it's easier for a ute to go through the hole in my watch strap, if it's easier for a tram to go through the teeth of a lice comb (it's not a picture of something that's unlikely; this is something that is impossible!)—if it's completely impossible for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God, then who can possibly be saved?

You see, the crowd are coming from a different worldview than we are. In Australia, we can have a pretty negative view of wealthy people—we don't like a tall poppy; we're quick to cut them down. We think the rich are rich because of luck. Sometimes we judge them: they probably stepped on the little guy on their way up the corporate ladder, anyway. But the people who are listening to Jesus have a different default perspective. They are immersed in a culture, in a worldview, where wealth is a blessing from God. The rich are rich not because of luck or greed, but because God has blessed them. And especially this guy: this guy is wealthy, he's powerful, and he's law-abiding—he's obeyed God's law since he was a boy. If he can't enter the kingdom of God, who can possibly be saved?

And Jesus says, good question. You are right to ask it. You're right to call it impossible—except God does the impossible. Verse 27: “What is impossible with man is possible with God.” For any of us, for all of us.

The uncomfortable truth is, it is impossible by our own efforts to enter the kingdom of God. We are actually so far from being good enough. The Bible uses the image of being slaves to sin. Jesus says in John 8, everyone who sins is a slave to sin—we're ruled by it, controlled by it, unable on our own to escape from it. The Bible also uses the image of being dead in sin (Ephesians 2: "you were dead in your transgressions and sins"). It is impossible for someone who is dead to make themselves alive again. It is impossible for someone who is dead to do anything except stay dead.

And this is our experience of trying to be better without God. We can try, but it's not very effective.

• We can try to do the right thing, but it is hard to keep making good choices.

• We can try to forgive ourselves and stop feeling guilty, but guilt is hard to shake.

• We can try to win God's approval by getting to "good enough," but that's not actually what he wants of us.

Because God sees us as we are—slaves who are unable to get free, dead who are unable to get back to life. He sees us and he loves us, and he works the impossible. Ephesians 2: Because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions. Who then can be saved? No one by their own efforts. But because of God's great love for us—because of Jesus—you and me.

It Will Be Worth It

The disciples have one more question. "What about us?" It's the question of the day: what about me? What must I do to inherit eternal life? What about us? "We have left everything to follow you." (Verse 28, Peter says to Jesus, We have left everything to follow you.) It almost sounds like a boast, but Jesus sees the question behind it—the anxiety. Actually, we have left everything behind. Will it be worth it?

Jesus answers yes. Verse 29: "Truly I tell you, no one who has left home or wife or brothers or sisters or parents or children for the sake of the kingdom of God, will fail to receive many times as much in this age and in the age to come. Eternal life."

Jesus says it will be worth it. There are costs to being a disciple of Jesus. You may have given up a relationship to follow Jesus. You may have given up a home. You may have been passed over for a promotion—and you wonder if it's because people know that you're a Christian and that's a black mark against your name.

Or maybe you left a job because you couldn't square it with your Christian ethics, or you heard God's call to something else. You may have someone in your life who doesn't take your phone calls anymore, or things are awkward or strained. I have relationships that are strained by me being a Christian and especially a Christian in ministry. You may have paid a high price to follow Jesus. God sees that sacrifice. Jesus promises it will be worth it.

"No one who has left home or wife or brothers or sisters or children or parents for the sake of the kingdom of God, will fail to receive many times as much in this age and in the age to come. Eternal life." Our Lord promises that he will fill up again what we have poured out. Maybe not literally many more wives or homes (I should think one at a time is enough!), but in his timing, in this age or in the age to come, he will provide. And we can take our part in fulfilling this promise. Our God is one who provides daily, and he provides through his people.

• Can you be a sister to someone who lost a sister?

• Can you be a father to someone who lost a father, young or old?

• Can you give a home to someone who left a home?

• Can you give honor to someone whose family gave them shame because they chose to follow Jesus?

God will honor them in the age to come.

This passage has two responses to the question "Is it worth it?" The ruler decides no. But Jesus says yes.

Even so, "sell everything you have and give it to the poor" is a radical expectation. And the elephant in the room is that we don't ask people to do that when they become Christians. Do you have to sell all your possessions to follow Jesus? I can't answer that for you. Jesus actually does call us to give up everything. He says that in Luke 14:33—to take up our cross (Luke 9). That's a call to follow Jesus, even to death (there's no money in death). But he doesn't command every person to sell all they have and give it to the poor. This is a response to the heart of this man.

And I can't see your heart. I can't see into it to see where money sits in it. I can't tell you if money or status is an idol in your heart that's keeping you from following Jesus. I can warn you of the gravitational pull of wealth that draws us away from God's way. I can warn you of the impossibility of serving two masters—of loving God and loving money. I can ask you: if you stood in the ruler's shoes, would you walk away sad?

Luke himself affirms the place of generous and wealthy Christians in God's mission. He tells us of wealthy women who were helping support Jesus and the disciples out of their own means, and of others who opened their homes to host gatherings and visitors. Not every person is called to sell everything and give it to the poor. But every person is called to count the cost. The cost of following Jesus.

I have had to count the cost at different times—to relationships, to career and the stability that comes with it. I have found it to be worth it. But you will have to count the cost for you. You will have to decide if it's worth it.

Conclusion

Friends, I wonder if there's a question that you're holding on to, that you keep asking, that you find yourself carrying. There might be a cost that you've paid where you still wonder, Was it worth it? and worry, Was it not? It might be that you keep asking, "Am I a good person?" and worry, "Am I enough?" It might be something else.

And there are questions that we will never have the answer to in this life. But Jesus does invite us to bring our questions to him, to listen to his answers. He invites us not to be burdened by the same question again and again, not to hold on to them and be weighed down. He invites us to trust him and let go, to look to Jesus and know he is worth it. He is enough, not me.