He came the way we’d all want to see someone come to Jesus — running, kneeling, sincere. A rich young ruler with everything going for him: wealth, influence, and a spotless reputation. “Good Teacher, what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?” He had everything temporary and was missing the one thing that’s eternal. And so the whole encounter presses one question on us, too: is God the most important part of who you are? Be slow to answer. Loving worship and loving church are wonderful — but that’s not the question. Is God Himself first?

A great checkup, a failing heart

Jesus runs the man through a kind of spiritual checkup. Posture and reverence? He sprinted, knelt, and called Jesus “Good Teacher” — check. Morality? Jesus lists the commandments and the man says he’s kept them from his youth — check. And here’s a sobering truth in that: you can act like Jesus without being saved. Playing the good guy gets you far — it wins over the in-laws, impresses the boss — and a person can be perfectly moral and still be on the way to judgment.

So Jesus reaches for the stethoscope and goes for the heart: “Why do you call Me good? No one is good but One, that is God.” The original language had two words for “good” — one for anything observably nice, and one for good all the way down to the core, an essence reserved for God alone. Jesus is gently asking, do you actually see who I am? Sadly, the man never answers. He’s comfortable with a good teacher; he’s not ready for the good God.

The one thing

“One thing you lack,” Jesus said. “Go your way, sell whatever you have and give to the poor… and come, take up the cross, and follow Me.” Notice first what came before the instruction: “Then Jesus, looking at him, loved him.” He didn’t expose the young man or write his sins in the dust; He looked at him, loved him, and went for the heart. That’s our model too — we’re called to speak truth, but we have to do it the way Jesus did: looking and loving, never from a pharisaical perch. That’s how He found us.

What Jesus put His finger on was an idol. The first commandment isn’t about carved statues; “no other gods” means anything that holds the place of priority in your life — anything that changes your decisions away from what Jesus would say. For this man it was money. For someone else it’s the promotion, the kids, the health, the career. Whatever you’d bend your character to keep is a god. And you can’t carry cash and the cross at the same time — the cross is a two-handed carry.

This isn’t the prosperity gospel (that enough faith makes you rich) or its mirror, a “poverty gospel” (that being broke makes you holy). Both are false. Paul knew abundance and he knew hunger; neither made him more godly. What matters is the heart’s nearness to the Lord. So does God ask for all your stuff? Yes — when you confess Jesus as Lord, which in that day meant Master, you lay it all at the cross: your job, your family, your health, your money, your ambitions. Often He hands most of it right back to steward — like Abraham receiving Isaac again — but there has to be a moment where you truly say, “It’s all Yours.” This man couldn’t. He came running and “went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions.”

Then who can be saved?

The disciples were stunned. If this exemplary man couldn’t make it, who could? Jesus answered with a picture that’s almost funny: it’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom. When could you thread that camel through? Never. And that’s the point — no one enters on the strength of their money, their morality, or their influence. “With men it is impossible.” The kingdom is free, and you walk right in through Christ — but you can’t bring anything with you, and that’s exactly what makes it hard.

Then the hope: “but not with God; for with God all things are possible.” He is the only answer. You can’t muscle your way in, and you can’t kick-start a work of God in yourself or anyone else — it’s His word by His Spirit. That should take the pressure off. And don’t miss the last note: kingdom sacrifices carry kingdom rewards. Jesus never bribed the disciples to follow; only near the end do they discover there were rewards all along — a hundredfold now, with persecutions, and in the age to come, eternal life. You’ll get to heaven and be rewarded for kindnesses you’ve long since forgotten.

The man ran to Jesus excited and left sad, clutching everything temporary and nothing eternal. The question isn’t how you came in today — it’s how you’ll leave. Will you set it all down, take up the cross with both hands, and follow? He’s not trying to bribe you into the kingdom. He’s introducing you to Jesus — who is better than everything you’d have to lay down.


This article is drawn from the message “One Thing You Lack” (Mark 10:17-31), part of our study through the Gospel of Mark at Calvary Chapel Star. Watch the full message on our YouTube channel.