Whatever Happened to the Rich Young Man?. Keith Foster
estates or those engaging in substance or alcohol abuse. The next chapter will consider and challenge this overemphasis in more detail; it is sufficient to summarize here that if Jesus considered the well-off and materialistic demographic difficult to reach and spiritually blind, what are we as individuals, and more specifically as churches, doing to reach those in hard places? Responding solely to the measured material needs of the communities around our churches can only result in a narrow approach in our missional or outreach strategy. The well-off, although perhaps difficult to reach, have spiritual needs, too.
Everybody needs somebody
A famous quote from Augustine of Hippo states, “Thou madest us for thyself, O Lord, and our heart is restless, until it rest in thee.”3 Famous songs have espoused the same sentiment and need. Lyrics that suggest everybody needs somebody, we all need somebody to lean on resonate across society indiscriminately. The writer of Ecclesiastes succinctly puts it when he writes, “God has set eternity in the human heart” (Ecc 3:11). Yet somehow, we have categorized people. Whole groups and generations are now classed under various sociological and theological terms: postmodern, post-secular, Millennial, Generation Z, etc. With these categories come characteristic definitions which we can summarize and assess, specifically regarding their potential receptiveness to our evangelism. Perhaps they are classified as being suspicious of the grand, corporate story: the meta-narrative that seeks to “explain.” While these insights are helpful in partnership with a missiological approach that seeks to contextualize the gospel to “all peoples,” underpinning all of this is the Bible’s timeless challenge to the church to partner with God in his global mission to reach all peoples from all nations. This great commission sees its culmination when the whole cosmos is brought under the single and sovereign rule of God within a “new heavens and earth,” with Christ at the head (Rev 21:1–4). In the meantime, we live in this fragmented world that may well desire but ultimately struggles to realize a world where there is “one humanity.” Achieving this aside from God’s reconciling project is an impossible task. The people of Babel in Genesis 11 desired to reach their “pinnacle,” yet they would only end up with a frustrated, unfinished project (Gen 11:1–9).
Equally, people often like to define themselves, perhaps by presenting themselves to the world as they would like to be seen. Before the global phenomenon known as the internet, the only methods people could use to achieve this were their possessions: the clothes they wore, the cars they drove, and the homes they lived in. These (of course) are still used by many to communicate a sense of success or self-sufficiency, but massively impacting this whole social “display” has been the rise of the internet and associated social media platforms. Social media filters can assist our false self-portrait. The reality of lonely and tragic lives is often hidden by filtered selfies and stories of indulgence. Behind all of this, the rich man is still sad. The church too can believe and be susceptible to this portrayed narrative of self-sufficiency and contentment. Augustine’s quote rings true underneath all of this. A life outside of God is restless until it finds it’s rest in him. The writer of Ecclesiastes has already told us why: as those with eternity created in our hearts, we have all been made to know God and to find our fulfillment in a life centered around his ultimate project to reconcile the whole cosmos to himself. As Christ-followers and as local churches, it is time to stop believing the projected narrative of self-sufficiency and to constantly keep in mind that everybody needs somebody—that somebody being Christ the Redeemer.
1. For example, Baker, Spiritual Capital and Progressive Localism; Cloke, Beaumont, and Williams, Working Faith, Faith-Based Organisations and Urban Social Justice.
2. Hardy and Foster, Body and Blood.
3. Augustine, Confessions, 5.
Chapter 2
The Squeaky Wheel Gets the Oil: The Welfare-Dominated Church
The importance of looking out and caring for the most vulnerable amongst us is a value, and thus a “metric,” that lies at the center of any civilized and morally grounded society. Even the most irreligious societies are founded upon the central principles of (at least several of) the Ten Commandments. It is illegal to murder or steal in every society. Additionally, the Bible’s teaching on looking after the vulnerable, the widows, the orphans, the marginalized, are also widely embraced and accepted—at least in principle. Fundraising events hosted by celebrities, charity appeals for famine-torn countries, email campaigns to support the local hospice, all vie for our attention. The challenge is what to say “no” to. For Christ-followers, this is amplified further, since they are told “Whoever is kind to the poor lends to the Lord, and he will reward them for what they have done” (Prov 19:17). Plenty of ink has been spilled by authors and theologians with regard to our obligations to the poor. Herein lies the problem. While there are many obvious and basic needs that all should be able to access (food, shelter, etc.), how might we define the “less well-off”? Wealth and possessions are relative and contextual. By that, I mean that the things we possess only hold their value within a given context and within the balance of our life experiences and inner well-being. Let me explain: For years, my parents struggled to get by. My father was in and out of jobs, and my mother did what she could as a low-wage auxiliary nurse at the local hospital. Until my teens, my parents rented their home from the local government authority. We lived in an area where most people around us had managed to purchase their home; so contextually, for my parents, being able to purchase their home would be a measure of success and relative “wealth.” Well, a few years into my military service, my parents did just that. With incentive discounts from the local authority offered to long-term tenants, my parents proudly purchased their home. Sadly, within only a few short years, my father passed away. While my mother had the security and legacy of a long-term home, I remember her saying, as a relatively young widow, “I would rather have an orange box and your father back, as pleased as I am with this home.” Against the context of sudden loss and grief, the comparative value of a house had lost its shine and appeal. As I write this chapter, the world is gripped by a global pandemic—COVID-19. Within the current shutdown, many of the possessions and pursuits that people value and allow to dominate their time and attention are off-limits. Stories are emerging of people being released out of critical care centers with new perspectives and insights around the value of “other things”: family, friends, mental, and physical well-being, etc. What is valuable to us can change quickly.
Jesus had plenty to say about the things we value. One of his most famous challenges is found in one of his most famous sermons:
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are healthy, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eyes are unhealthy, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light within you is darkness, how great is that darkness! No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money. (Matt 6:19–24)
Jesus tells us that within and against the Kingdom context, the things we value now will lose their shine. The church is not exempt from the challenge, either. In his appraisal of the seven churches in the book of Revelation, Jesus brings a reality check to the church at Laodicea:
To the angel of the church in Laodicea write: These are the words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the ruler of God’s creation. I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth. You say, “I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.” But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on