(Read Luke 18:18-27,18And a certain ruler asked him, saying, Good Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life? 19And Jesus said unto him, Why callest thou me good? none is good, save one, that is, God. 20Thou knowest the commandments, Do not commit adultery, Do not kill, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Honor thy father and thy mother. 21And he said, All these have I kept from my youth up. 22Now when Jesus heard these things, he said unto him, Yet lackest thou one thing: sell all that thou hast, and distribute unto the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come, follow me. 23And when he heard this, he was very sorrowful: for he was very rich. 24And when Jesus saw that he was very sorrowful, he said, How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God! 25For it is easier for a camel to go through a needle's eye, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God. 26And they that heard it said, Who then can be saved? 27And he said, The things which are impossible with men are possible with God. (Luke 18:18‑27) and 19:1-10.)
These two scriptures present a striking and instructive contrast between a rich ruler and a rich publican—a contrast between man’s impossible and God’s possible—a contrast illustrating, most forcibly, the truth that, though man is neither willing nor able to get up to God, yet God is both willing and able to come down to man—a contrast proving, most clearly, that, though the sinner is unable to do the necessary work, and unwilling to pay the necessary price for “eternal life,” yet God can give that life without price and without labor. Such is the interesting lesson set before us in these two narratives. Let us ponder it for a few moments.
1. In the person of the rich ruler, we have a member of a very numerous class. He was evidently one who would fain “make the best of both worlds.” He stood on legal ground, and was governed by a worldly principle. His history suggests and answers two questions which have been put and answered thousands of times over, in the history of the human family, namely, “What must I do?” and “What must I give?” These questions are very simply answered, inasmuch as it is evidently man’s duty to do the whole law; and as to the price which should be given for eternal life, what less could God possibly demand than all that a man has? God could not accept of anything less than a perfect obedience; and if eternal life is worth anything, it is worth all. The whole law must be fulfilled, if heaven is to be reached by doing; and we could never expect to get heaven at a lower price than the full surrender of earth. If the question be, “What am I to do?” the answer is, “All that God requires.” If the question is, “How much am I to give?” the answer is, “All that you have.” Nothing less will ever do. Not a tittle less than the whole law—not a fraction less than all your possessions. It would be the very height of absurdity to expect eternal life upon any lower terms. If you want to work your way to heaven, you must do “all that is written in the book of the law.” And if you want to pay your way to heaven, how could you possibly expect to get there for less than all that you possess on earth?
This will explain Christ’s remarkable method of answering the rich ruler. He answers the man, not his question. He answers with His penetrating gaze upon the moral condition of the inquirer. He lays out the work for a legalist; and He lays down the price for a bargainer. And, be it noted, there is an intimate connection between the two things. If the ruler had really been able to do the work, as he vainly imagined, he would have been willing to pay the price. The two things would, most assuredly, go together. But inasmuch as there has never been a single member of Adam’s fallen family who was able to do the prescribed work, so neither has there ever been one who was willing to pay the stipulated price. And, moreover, when once a man becomes convinced, by God’s Holy Spirit, of his natural unwillingness and inability, he never thinks of asking such a question as, “What must I do to inherit eternal life,” for he knows quite well that unless eternal life be a free gift, he can never have it at all.
However, the ruler had not reached the ground of divine conviction when he stood in the presence of Christ with his legal inquiry. And if my reader would clearly understand this entire scene, he must bear in mind that our blessed Lord is dealing, not with a convicted sinner, or an anxious inquirer, but with a legalist and bargainer—not with one whose all-engrossing desire was to reach heaven, bat with one who wanted to hold heaven and earth at the same time—that is, “to make the best of both worlds.” This simplifies the matter amazingly. It makes it all clear. Christ did not mean to teach that heaven could be reached by works, or bought with money; but He did, most strikingly, make manifest that even though it could be so, yet man would neither do the work nor pay the price. He proved, in the case of the ruler, that when heaven was offered to the human heart, on the reasonable terms of some earthly possessions, the human heart deliberately refused to pay the price. We are not taught that heaven is to be sold; but we are taught that even though it were to be sold for a few thousands, man would not pay the amount.
And do we not see the truth of this every day? Men think far more of money than they do of heaven. True, they would like to get to heaven when they die. No marvel they should. But then they want to hold this world as long as they can. They would be glad to “inherit eternal life,” and yet cling to their earthly possessions. This is a vain thought, and it is as contemptible as it is vain. It is utterly impossible to hold the two worlds. This should be distinctly understood. You might just as well endeavor to hold heaven and hell, Christ and Satan, light and darkness, as to combine this present evil world with that bright and blessed world to come, for which the redeemed are waiting. The two are diametrically opposed, in every possible way. Satan is the god of this world. Christ is Lord of the world to come. How could you make the best of these two? Impossible. The attempt can only be regarded as a piece of consecrated selfishness all the more dangerous because sanctioned by many from whom we might expect a measure of faithfulness to Christ.
However, if those who practice and defend this Godless, Christless, soul-destroying principle, would only ponder the narrative of the rich ruler, they might gather up some wholesome instruction. See him with the balance in his hand; eternal life is in the one scale, and some perishable goods in the other. What is the result? The scale that holds a priceless and enduring substance flies rapidly upward and kicks the beam, while that which holds a fleeting shadow sinks to the ground: and the poor infatuated creature gathers up his goods, and turns his back upon Christ—upon heaven—upon eternal life. He prefers an inheritance which death will wrest from his grasp, to one which is “incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven” for all those who simply put their trust in the name of Jesus. He moves away in sorrow, no doubt; but sorrow for what? Because he could not make the best of both worlds. His heart had been detected, though his conscience was not reached; and his history proves to all who will weigh the proof, that it is morally impossible to hold Christ in one hand, and the world in the other; and, further, that it is impossible for man to get to God by aught that he can do or give. Eternal life cannot be earned by works, or bought with money. It can only be had as “the gift of God, through Jesus Christ our Lord.”
2. This conducts us, in the second place, to the consideration of the case of Zacchaeus, the rich publican of Jericho, whose history so strikingly proves that “the things which are impossible with men, are possible with God.” The rich ruler was told to do and to give: the rich publican was saved without being told to do or give anything. Why was this? Because the ruler took the ground of a legalist; whereas the publican took the ground of a lost sinner, looking for Jesus. Now, while it is utterly impossible for a legalist to get to God, it is quite possible for God to get to a lost sinner. This is beautifully exemplified in the narrative of Zacchaeus.
“And Jesus entered and passed through Jericho. And, behold, there was a man named Zacchaeus, which was chief among the publicans, and he was rich. And he sought to see Jesus, who he was; and could not for the press, because he was little of stature. And he ran before, and climbed up into a sycamore tree to see him, for he was to pass that way.”
Here, then, we have before us, God’s “possible.” Zacchaeus, as he took his place in the sycamore tree, stood before the eye of Jesus as one of those whom the Father was drawing to Him; and it mattered not, in the smallest degree, what he was—rich or poor, publican or sinner—Christ fixed his eye upon him, and said, “Zacchaeus, make haste and come down; for today I must abide at thy house.” “All that the Father giveth me shall come to me; and him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.” (John 6:3737All that the Father giveth me shall come to me; and him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out. (John 6:37).) True, Zacchaeus was “rich.” He belonged to that class of whom Christ said, “How hardly shall they enter the kingdom.” But what of that? The Lord Jesus beheld in him an object of God’s eternal counsels, and a subject of the Father’s drawings. He connected the act of climbing the sycamore tree with the divine purpose which was formed before the foundation of the world, and He proceeded to act in pursuance thereof by publishing the glad tidings of a free salvation in the ears of the wealthy publican of Jericho. Beholders might “murmur;” Zacchaeus, too, might recount his honest and earnest efforts in the way of alms-giving and restitution; but Christ was true to the object which had brought Him from the bosom of the Father, and that object was “salvation.” “This day is salvation come to this house, forasmuch as he also is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.”
Here, then, we have God’s “possible.” If Zacchaeus had been called upon to keep the commandments or sell all that he had in order to inherit eternal life, he would have found it as hard as the rich ruler. It is impossible for anyone, ruler, publican, or else, to get to heaven by a pathway of works. There is but one way to heaven and that way is marked from the throne of God down to the lost sinner by the footprints of love divine; and it is marked upward from the lost sinner to the throne of God by the sprinkled blood of the Lamb. It is all well enough, and very beautiful, to give to the poor, and make restitution for any injury done one’s neighbor; but these things can never purchase salvation, for it is not to be purchased by anything; and even though it were, the case of the ruler proves that man would not pay the price. The fact is, salvation is as free as the air we breathe, for this simple reason, that it has been brought to all by “the grace of God.” “This day is salvation come to this house.”
These precious words present three features in the salvation which the grace of God brings. It is a present salvation; a perfect salvation; a personal salvation. “This day.” Here we see it to be a present salvation. My reader, if unsaved, now, needs not to wait till tomorrow to be saved. The great fact on which salvation depends was accomplished, over eighteen hundred years ago on the cross.
“‘Tis done—the great transaction’s done.”
All is finished. Jesus has “put away sin by the sacrifice of himself.” “He suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, to bring us to God.” The soul that believes this grand fact is saved on the spot—saved now—saved forever. He has no need to go hither or thither, to do this or that; he has just to believe what God has said about Jesus, and be saved.
But, further, it is a perfect salvation. “This day is salvation come” it is not coming; it is not on the way; it is actually “come.” It was wrought out by Christ, for us, and is as perfect as He could make it. It demands nothing from the sinner. It is brought, in all its divine fullness and completeness, to his door, and his only title to it is that he is “lost.” It is only a lost sinner that needs salvation, and nothing but a perfect salvation would do for one who is utterly lost. It is not merely help I want, but full salvation. Many will say they hope to be saved “by the help of God.” This is a mistake. There is a wide difference between God’s helping me to be saved and His saving me altogether. In the former case, I co-operate; but in the latter case, God does all.
Finally, it is a personal salvation. “This day is salvation come to this house.” It is important to see this clearly. We are very apt to generalize in reference to the matter of salvation. Many there are who say, “We are all sinners; and we know that Jesus died for all;” but yet they have never made it a personal matter. They have never been brought to say from the depth of a broken heart” I am lost; but Jesus loved me, and gave himself for me.” The devils believe that Jesus died for sinners, and it avails them nothing. The thing is to believe that Jesus died for me—that a full, free, eternal salvation has come to me—that my sins were laid on Jesus, and that He bore them in His own body on the tree, and put them away out of God’s view forever. Of what value is salvation if it be not for me? If I cannot make my own of it, it avails me nothing. But, blessed be God, it is for me, because I am a lost sinner. “The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.”
Hence we see that the sinner has not to wait till tomorrow in order to be saved; he has not to add anything to the salvation which grace brings him; and he is not to raise so much as a single question as to the fact that salvation applies to him, for the very moment he takes the ground of a lost sinner, the salvation of God applies itself to him as truly as the air is intended for all who have lungs to breathe, or the sunbeams for all who have eyes to see. Does anyone ever think of questioning whether the atmosphere and sunlight are intended for him? Surely not, while reason holds her seat. Well, then, neither should the poor conscience-smitten sinner entertain a single doubt as to the precious truth that God’s salvation is not only a present, and a perfect, but also a personal salvation.
And why? Is it because he has kept all the commandments from his youth? Nay. Is it because he has sold all and given to the poor? By no means. Why, then? Simply because “The Son of man has come to seek and to save that which was lost.” “The things which are impossible with men are possible with God.” Ask a man to give up some ruling lust, some darling pleasure, in order to be saved. He will tell you, it is “impossible.” But let that man be brought to see himself as lost—let Him take his place as a ruined, guilty, hell-deserving sinner, and all he has to do is to accept a full, an unconditional, and an eternal salvation through the blood of the Lamb. Let a man come as a doer, and what less could he be told to do than “the whole law?” Let a man come as a buyer, and what less could he be told to give, than “all that he has?” But let a man come as a lost sinner, and he gets eternal life as a gift, and eternal salvation without money and without price. Thus it was with Zacchaeus. The Lord Jesus fixed His loving gaze upon him and said, in effect, “I shall have that man in heaven, though all the powers of earth and hell were set in array against him.”
And, now, one word in conclusion. Are we to suppose, for a moment, that Zacchaeus ceased to give alms when he had gotten salvation? Nay; it was only then he learned to give them upon the true ground. It is only as saved that a man can do anything right Till he finds Christ he is but plowing the rock. He may be very earnest; he may do many things in order to be saved; but it is only when a full and all-sufficient Christ is laid hold of by faith, that good works can be performed or good fruit produced. When a man knows and loves his master he can use his talent aright, whereas the legalist, who regards Christ as “an austere man,” will go and hide his talent in the earth.