What if someone came within inches of following Jesus — ran to him, knelt before him, asked him the right question — and still walked away? That’s the story behind the title of this sermon, and it’s one of the most uncomfortable passages in the gospels.
The Almost-Disciple
As Jesus was setting out on his journey, a man ran up and knelt before him. “Good teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” (Mark 10:17). The gospels record this encounter in Matthew, Mark, and Luke — unusually detailed treatment for someone who didn’t even become a disciple.
Mark calls him a young man. Luke adds that he was a ruler — someone with real religious authority and influence. And Matthew and Mark both emphasize: he was rich. Young, powerful, wealthy, and religiously diligent. He had everything the world says matters, and he came running after Jesus with genuine urgency.
Here’s what makes this so uncomfortable: this wasn’t a cynical test like the Pharisees posed. This man’s question was sincere. He actually wanted what Jesus had. He just wasn’t prepared for the answer.
“Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone.”
— Mark 10:18
Jesus wasn’t deflecting the compliment — he was pointing to the standard. There is only one who is truly good. And the moment you think you’ve achieved goodness on your own merit, you’ve already missed the point of the gospel.
The Real Problem: Asking the Wrong Question
The man’s question reveals the deeper issue: what can I add to what I already have? He came to acquire eternal life the way you acquire a credential — by doing enough to get it. He had his religious résumé ready: “Teacher, all these I have kept from my youth” (Mark 10:20).
But look at how Jesus responds — not with the Romans Road, not with “confess and believe.” Instead:
“One thing you lack. Go, sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.”
— Mark 10:21
The command wasn’t arbitrary. Jesus looked at this man — and loved him — and exposed exactly where his heart was. This man’s identity wasn’t in Christ. It was in his comfort, his wealth, his stuff. And Jesus called him to trade up: give up temporary treasure for eternal treasure.
The man’s response tells the whole story:
“He went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions.”
— Mark 10:22
The Wrong Kind of Grief
This is the diagnostic question of the sermon: what happens in your heart when you’re convicted by God’s Word?
Godly grief produces a repentant heart — and a joyful response. Look at the Philippian jailer in Acts 16. When Paul shared the gospel, he immediately took action: he washed their wounds, was baptized, set food before them, and rejoiced with his entire household (Acts 16:29-34). He traded in his old life and got back something incomparably better.
Human grief — the grief the Rich Young Ruler experienced — is produced by a stubborn heart. It leaves you sad, unchanged, and further from Jesus than when you started. Jesus looked at this man and loved him. But the man walked away.
He could have been the 13th disciple. Instead, we don’t even know his name. The world lost his impact 2,000 years ago. Most likely, he died a broke old man in 70 A.D. when the Romans destroyed Jerusalem. He traded eternal fame for temporary comfort.
Trading Up
When the disciples heard this, they were astonished. Jesus turned it around: what you give up for the kingdom, you receive back a hundredfold — and not just spiritually, but in this life too (Mark 10:28-30). Real discipleship means running toward Jesus with the same urgency he ran after the Father — not clinging to comfort while asking God to bless our agenda.
Peter and Andrew left their nets. Matthew left his tax booth. Paul left his religious credentials and his freedom. They traded in for something that changed the world and echo through history. The Rich Young Ruler traded in for comfort — and is forgotten.
So What?
This sermon is a heart check. The world is full of seekers. Romans 3:10-11 says it plainly: no one is righteous, no one seeks for God. But when the Spirit convicts, we get to choose. Trading up means coming to God not as a good person adding to our résumé, but as a sinner desperate for grace — recognizing we can’t earn what only Jesus can give.
Where is the Spirit convicing you to act but you’re walking away sad? What’s that one thing you’re holding onto that you’re not willing to surrender? Maybe it’s not wealth. Maybe it’s a relationship, a habit, a dream, a pride. Whatever it is — bring it to Jesus. Trade it in. You’ll find out that what he gives back is infinitely better than what you held onto.
Scripture References
- Mark 10:17-31 — The Rich Young Ruler
- Matthew 19:16-30 — The Rich Young Ruler (Matthew’s account)
- Luke 18:18-30 — The Rich Young Ruler (Luke’s account)
- Romans 3:10-11 — No one seeks for God
- Acts 16:25-34 — The Philippian Jailer: believing and rejoicing