Eric Hamilton
Three of the gospels relate a story about a man who came to ask Jesus a question. Matthew (19:16-26) says he was young. Luke (18:18-27) says he was a ruler. All three Gospels (including Mark 10:17-27) tell us he was rich. This rich young ruler asks Jesus his question, then leaves sad because he cannot let go of his wealth. The common way to expound upon the story is to focus on what the man did wrong, but it occurred to me that the rich young ruler isn’t all wrong. In fact, he gets many things right.
First, he had the humility to ask.
People with money, status, and youth are not always first to admit they need help. Yet the rich young ruler who has all three comes to and asks Jesus a serious question: “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
Just calling Jesus “Teacher” already signals something. He is admitting he does not have this figured out. He is seeking out an answer. It’s reminiscent of the Ethiopian in Acts 8, reading Isaiah and unable to make sense of it. When Philip asks if he understands, he answers honestly: “How can I, unless someone guides me?” (Acts 8:30-31) The rich young ruler shows a similar spirit.
That kind of humility is harder than it sounds. Plenty of us struggle to ask for directions. Asking often means admitting we are lost, or at least unsure where we are headed. This man sets that pride aside. Jeremiah 10:23 remarks that it is not in us to direct our own steps. The first right step is often saying, “I do not know, but I want to. “
Second, he went to the right place for help.
Wanting help is one thing. Knowing where to take the question is another. Mark 10:17 notes that the young man came running to Jesus. He came to the one who could actually answer it.
That matters because a genuine question is not the same as a trap. In Matthew 19:3, Pharisees tested Jesus, hoping for a “gotcha” moment. The rich young ruler is different. He is not trying to win an argument. From all indications in the text, his question was genuine.
A lot of people know something is off in their lives. They feel the weight, then look in all the wrong places for relief. Jesus still holds out the same invitation in Matthew 11:28-30: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden…take my yoke upon you, and learn from me…” He is not asking us to clean ourselves up first. He is asking us to come as we are, where we are. The young ruler got that part right.
Third, he cared about eternal life.
The rich young ruler did not say, “What must I do to be happy?” or “How do I get everything I want right now?” He asked about eternal life. He wanted something that reaches beyond this world. This man already had a lot of what people chase—wealth, status, youth. Still, he sensed there had to be more.
There is nothing shallow about wanting certainty on a question like that. In 2 Peter 1:5-10, Peter talks about adding to our faith and making our calling and election sure. Our interests seem to so easily shrink to the next deadline or distraction. The rich young ruler’s question casts aside the distractions and gets to what is most important: what about life that does not end?
Fourth, he understood that a response was required.
He did not ask what he should merely believe, or what religious feeling he should chase. He asked what he should do. That is the same impulse you hear on Pentecost when the crowd asks, “What shall we do?” (Acts 2:37), and from Saul on the Damascus road: “Lord, what shall I do?” (Acts 22:10). Faith that never moves is not the faith the New Testament describes. James 2:26 is blunt: “faith without works is dead.” The young man grasped that eternal life involves a real response to God.
Jesus points him to the commandments. The young man claims he has kept the commandments from his youth. Jesus then puts a finger on the one thing that has a hold on him: “sell what you have, give to the poor, and come follow me” (Matthew 19:21). The issue is not checking boxes on a moral list. The issue is whether God comes first. His wealth had become the rival. When Jesus asks him to loosen his grip, he cannot do it. He walks away grieving, choosing treasure he can count over treasure he cannot yet see.
That is the part we should not imitate. Even here the story asks a quiet question: if Jesus sat across from me, what would he name as the one thing keeping me from eternal life? It might not be money. It might be control, reputation, comfort, or a habit we have long made peace with. Jesus said we cannot serve two masters (Matthew 6:24). There is no cafeteria version of following him where we take only what we like and leave the rest. He asks for the whole heart.
So what do we do with a story like this? We can admire the young man’s start without repeating his finish. Humility to ask. The wisdom to bring the question to Jesus. A real hunger for eternal life. A willingness to act, not only to agree. Those are worthy of emulation.
The ending does not have to be sorrow. In Acts 8, after Philip explains the good news, the Ethiopian responds differently than the rich young ruler and asks what prevents him from being baptized. He believes, is baptized, and “went on his way rejoicing” (Acts 8:39). He had the same initial openness to truth, yet a very different outcome. As Jesus told his disciples in this same account, with people some things look impossible, “but with God all things are possible” (Matthew 19:26).
If the rich young ruler’s question has been sitting in the back of your mind too, you are in good company. Bring it to the right Teacher. Ask honestly. Be ready for an answer that may ask something of you. And know that the one who invites you to come is also the one who can give rest, forgiveness, and a future that does not end.
