How to Inherit Eternal Life

Don: We have studied the stories of the Rich Young Ruler and the lawyer, both of whom asked Jesus how they could inherit eternal life. Other scriptural stories—the Pharisee and the Publican, the blind man on the road to Jericho, and Zaccheus the tax collector—provide additional insight regarding the answer to that question:

And [Jesus] also told this parable to some people who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and viewed others with contempt: “Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood and was praying this to himself: ‘God, I thank You that I am not like other people: swindlers, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I pay tithes of all that I get.’ But the tax collector, standing some distance away, was even unwilling to lift up his eyes to heaven, but was beating his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, the sinner!’ I tell you, this man went to his house justified rather than the other; for everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted.” (Luke 18:9-14)

The publican (the tax collector) could well have been Zaccheus:

[Jesus] entered Jericho and was passing through. And there was a man called by the name of Zaccheus; he was a chief tax collector and he was rich. Zaccheus was trying to see who Jesus was, and was unable because of the crowd, for he was small in stature. So he ran on ahead and climbed up into a sycamore tree in order to see Him, for He was about to pass through that way. When Jesus came to the place, He looked up and said to him, “Zaccheus, hurry and come down, for today I must stay at your house.” And he hurried and came down and received Him gladly. When they saw it, they all began to grumble, saying, “He has gone to be the guest of a man who is a sinner.” Zaccheus stopped and said to the Lord, “Behold, Lord, half of my possessions I will give to the poor, and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will give back four times as much.” And Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because he, too, is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost.” (Luke 19:1-10)

Sandwiched between those two stories in Luke is that of the blind man on the road to Jericho:

As Jesus was approaching Jericho, a blind man was sitting by the road begging. Now hearing a crowd going by, he began to inquire what this was. They told him that Jesus of Nazareth was passing by. And he called out, saying, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Those who led the way were sternly telling him to be quiet; but he kept crying out all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” And Jesus stopped and commanded that he be brought to Him; and when he came near, He questioned him, “What do you want Me to do for you?” And he said, “Lord, I want to regain my sight!” And Jesus said to him, “Receive your sight; your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and began following Him, glorifying God; and when all the people saw it, they gave praise to God. (Luke 18:35-43)

These are all stories about the passing on of grace. The RYR, the Good Samaritan, the publican, and Zaccheus all had material wealth to pass on; the blind man had nothing to pass on to others except his glorification of God. The socialist principle of “From each according to his ability, to each according to her need” indeed seems operative here.

Indirectly, Zaccheus helps answer the question of what must be done to obtain eternal life. His name in Hebrew means “clean” or “pure”—attributes that would generally not adhere to tax collectors, especially not a chief tax collector. They made their living by bidding for the job from the Roman rulers. They would bid an amount they said they could collect from a district. If they won but collected less than the amount bid, they would be on the hook for the balance; but if they collected more, they could keep it. Zaccheus was a chief collector and very rich, so clearly he was proficient at what he did.

He would have been very unpopular, and for that reason alone it would have been difficult to get through the crowd to see Jesus. To make it worse, he was of short stature. So like the citizens of Babel, he sought to elevate himself and contact God by climbing heavenwards. In their case, via a tower; in his, via a tree. It is the human condition to seek to rise to the level of God through our own efforts, but Jesus saw right through it in the case of Zaccheus and replaced Zaccheus’ own efforts with God’s grace. He called him by name—and it must have been amusing to the crowd to have Jesus draw their attention to an object of their dislike (whose name belied his nature, to boot) in such an undignified position, perched on a tree branch.

But Jesus made clear the seriousness and urgency of his ministry. He wanted Zaccheus to come down right away and take Jesus to his home not merely for a quick visit but to “abide”—an alternative translation of the Greek given as “stay” in scripture. A home is an intimate place, where things happen that do not happen in public. Jesus appropriated this intimacy, as he seeks to do with us all.

Zaccheus’ response was transformative. He understood and accepted the grace that God was extending to him and made his commitment to pass it on, as described in the passage.

The passing on of grace can be seen in the Beatitudes: The pure in heart, the merciful, the peacemakers, the poor in spirit, the gentle, all bear the hallmarks of receivers and passers-on of grace.

Kiran: The common theme seems to be that whatever we do, it is not enough to earn grace unless we “abide in God.” For the RYR, to abide in God meant giving up all his possessions and literally following Jesus. He thought he had the means to qualify for eternal life on his own, but Jesus disabused him of that notion.

David: It seems to me that the fundamental question underlying the one we are discussing is “How can we be Good with a capital G?” And the fundamental answer is that we can’t. Like Truth with a capital T, Good is divine, not earthly. Zaccheus got it. Surely he went on collecting the despised taxes even after “salvation came to his house.” The point was that it was grace and salvation that came freely to him, not that he did anything to deserve it.

Don: If there is nothing to be done, what’s the point of trying? There seems to be some value in striving for salvation, for goodness. Is the value itself independent of salvation, or is salvation at least a part of the value? More than 86 percent of some 1,000 teenagers polled by the Barna Group opined that in order to be saved, one had to be good.

Ben: Whatever “good” means, it would seem that it is the key to getting into Heaven. But if one is not “good” then how can one have any appreciation for what one might be missing? Being good seems like the trailer for the divine movie—it gives a taste for it but does not reveal it.

David: The commonality in most of the stories is that the key actors—the RYR, Zaccheus, the lawyer, the Samaritan—all apparently wanted to be good (I’m not sure about the blind beggar, who only wanted to be able to see). They were asking what Ben suggests: “What is ‘Good’?” Whatever it is, many tend to feel they are lacking in it. Perhaps that is what attracts grace: The desire to be good, rather than the practice of good. It seems it’s OK to sin provided one feels a bit guilty about it.

Ben: To be humble in order to be superior seems to be what the key actors in these stories (except for the blind man, whom I can’t figure out) want. The Pharisee understood the mechanics of the law—he knew how to manipulate the telescope but could not understand the things it showed.

Rimon: Having the attributes of the blessed in the Beatitudes helps us pass on grace. We are not forced to do so, but purity of heart makes us want to do good. It’s not a matter of giving up possessions but of knowing the true yearnings of one’s heart.

Kiran: To be humble for selfish reasons can hardly be “good.” But as Ben said, and as Jesus implied when he asked the RYR “How do you know that I am good?”, we don’t and can’t know what Good is. What we can do, as the stories tell us, is to abide in Jesus and let him decide for us what is good. We become better people. Mother Theresa did not seek to be good, but she became good through her yearning for a relationship with God.

Charles: The central tenet of all of these stories (indeed, all of scripture) deals with man’s relationship to God and specifically the primacy of that relationship. If so, then the other things about being good and so on are the natural consequence of a pre-existing relationship. If the relationship with God does not already exist, then the things we call “good” are simply impossible.

It was the deliberate choice not to maintain that relationship, presumably to fulfill some desire that God hadn’t provided, that led to the Fall. The RYR talked about his relationship with other people as reflected by his keeping of certain commandments. If he was not being disingenuous, he balked at the idea—which Jesus suggested to him—of attending to his relationship with God first. The message is the same in the Good Samaritan story. Zaccheus tried to approach Jesus—he was trying to put that relationship first; in the alacrity of his response, Jesus was showing that all you need to do is approach God and you will be given the keys to the kingdom of heaven. The blind man too approached God by calling out to Jesus for mercy; his faith then healed him.

All the stories emphasize the primacy of the relationship with God. If we put it first, all other good things fall into place. If not—if we think we can put things in “good” order by ourselves—we are bound to stumble and fall. Pride tends to make us think we can do it ourselves; I think that lack of humility is the source of most of our problems. It is a given that a relationship with God induces humility.

Paul reminded us to be like Jesus, who was a humble servant of God, obedient and poor, even while being God! That is the key to salvation.

Robin: The contrast between the main actors in each of these stories seems to be that those who had wealth and social status approached Jesus to try to trip him up. They thought they were good already; whereas the poor and/or shunned approached Jesus because they thought that in some way they were bad and deserved opprobrium.

I wonder if we are confused between means and ends. Are goodness and/or humility means of entry to the kingdom or are they a sign of having arrived?

Michael: Jesus said the kingdom was here, among us; but it takes an eye-opening like that experienced by the blind man to see it. In other words, entry requires humility and God’s grace.

Rimon: The parable of the talents (Matthew 25:14-30) suggests that Jesus doesn’t want us to sit passively expecting a return on the grace he gives us—he wants us to invest it and multiply it.

David: If we don’t know what “Good” is (and we seem to have agreed on that) then neither can we know what Evil is. Therefore, we cannot judge. I am an optimist—I see the world growing less judgmental even as it grows more secular. The more secular the world has grown, the less it has viewed sickness as a sign of sin, women as chattels, people of a different race as non-human, and homosexuals as perverted. We have further to go on some of these issues than on others, but the trend is established.

It is ironic that scripture—in recording the ministry and messages of Jesus—supports the secular view that we are in no position to judge what is good or bad, right or wrong, in others. As Chuck has explained so well, the thing to focus on is our own relationship with God. We must look to our own souls, not the souls of others.

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