Mark 10:17-30
estimated reading time: 10 minutes · written by Tim ChilversA few years ago, wristbands began appearing everywhere, printed with four simple letters: WWJD. “What Would Jesus Do?” became a cultural phenomenon in churches across the 1990s. It was a way of reminding ourselves, in the middle of daily life, to ask that small but profound question before acting or deciding.
Recently, I found myself thinking about that old wristband as I was preparing a sermon for our Fridge Magnet Christianity series at Riverside Church. The series looks at those verses we never put on our fridges or post on our Instagram stories – the ones that make us uncomfortable.
The passage for that week was from Mark’s Gospel, chapter 10: the encounter between Jesus and the rich young ruler. It’s the one where Jesus says, “Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”
I don’t know about you, but I’ve never seen that verse on a mug.
If Jesus Shopped for Toasters
Let’s play a little game. I call it “W.W.T.W.J.B.” – What Toaster Would Jesus Buy?
Here are three options:
A Morrisons toaster for £7,
A mid-range Russell Hobbs toaster for £23,
And a top-of-the-range Smeg Porsche collaboration toaster for £299.
Which one do you think Jesus would buy?
It seems like a very silly question. But it raises a real question: if faith affects every part of our lives, what does following Jesus mean for the way we spend, save, and give?
And that’s exactly the tension in the story of the rich young ruler.
The Verse You Won’t Find on a Fridge Magnet
When Jesus tells the man to sell everything he owns, the story ends with heartbreak. “At this, the man’s face fell. He went away sad, because he had great wealth.”
It’s tempting to ask: is Jesus really saying that none of us should own anything? Should we all sell our cars, houses, and yes, even our toasters?
But before we start clearing out our kitchens, it’s worth noticing what Jesus is actually doing. He’s not issuing a universal command to be penniless. He’s revealing something about the heart.
That’s the key to this whole passage: it’s a heart issue, not a money issue.
Present Suffering, Future Glory
The young man in the story comes to Jesus with a sincere question: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” He’s moral, polite, probably religious. He ticks every box. He’s the kind of person any church would love to have as a member.
Jesus lists the commandments, and the man replies confidently: “All these I have kept since I was a boy.”
But Jesus knows something deeper is going on. Beneath the good behaviour lies an idol – wealth. So Jesus gently presses on the sore spot: “One thing you lack. Go, sell everything you have…”
It’s not that money itself is evil; it’s that money had quietly become the man’s god.
The Things We Hold Too Tightly
I once read that in parts of Southeast Asia, hunters would catch monkeys using a simple trick. They’d hollow out a gourd, cut a small hole, and place a treat inside. The monkey could reach in, grab the treat, but couldn’t pull its hand out while holding on to it. The only way to escape was to let go – but the monkey refused, trapped by its own clenched fist.
That image has stayed with me.
Because, truthfully, I can be that monkey. There are things I grip tightly – my plans, my reputation, my sense of security. And yet Jesus keeps calling me to loosen my grip, to trust that life is found not in holding on, but in letting go.
For the rich young ruler, that “treat” was money. For you or me, it could be something else entirely: status, health, influence, relationships, even ministry. Anything that takes the place of God in our hearts becomes the thing that traps us.
A Lesson I Had to Learn
A few years ago, I found myself deeply anxious about some decisions we were making at Riverside. I worried the changes might harm the church, undo years of hard work, or reflect badly on my leadership.
A wise friend, Paul Duncan, listened carefully and then started asking questions.
“What’s the worst-case scenario?” he asked. “If the decisions really did go wrong – what would happen?”
I said the church might suffer, people might leave, and the ministry could lose momentum.
He nodded, then gently asked, “Would the kingdom of God collapse?”
Of course not. There are plenty of wonderful churches in Birmingham. God’s mission wouldn’t end.
Then came the real question: “Tim, is this about the church… or is it about your ego?”
I didn’t answer straight away. But I knew he was right. My anxiety wasn’t just about the church’s future; it was about how I’d look if things went wrong.
That moment exposed something in me. My security had quietly shifted from God to success. Like the rich young ruler, I had something I didn’t want to let go of.
Jesus Looks and Loves
There’s a line in the story that changes everything. Before Jesus says anything challenging, Mark writes: “Jesus looked at him and loved him.”
That’s vital. Jesus doesn’t expose our idols to shame us; He does it because He loves us.
He doesn’t want something from us – He wants something for us.
He knows that anything we elevate above God – even good things – will eventually crush us under its weight. Money can’t give identity. Success can’t guarantee peace. Even family or ministry can’t fill the space meant for God alone.
That’s why surrender isn’t punishment – it’s freedom.
From Getting to Giving
I often think about a quote from Eugene Peterson, who reflected on decades of pastoring the church. He said:
“In my lifetime, there’s been a sea change in church culture from following Jesus to getting something from Jesus.”
That hits home. Our culture has taught us to approach faith like consumers – always asking what we can get from God: happiness, success, stability.
But Jesus invites us to something deeper: not a transaction, but transformation.
The Love of Money – and the Fear of Losing It
Paul writes to Timothy: “Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God.”
I used to think this only applied to people wealthier than me. But the truth is, almost all of us in the modern West are “rich” compared with most of the world.
Money has a strange power. It can make us feel safe – or enslaved. Some of us spend, spend, spend, chasing happiness through things. Others save, save, save, clinging to security through control. Either way, money ends up in the driver’s seat.
And sometimes we can even make giving an idol. Paul reminds the Corinthians that generosity without love gains nothing. You can give away everything you own – and still make it all about yourself.
The problem isn’t the money. It’s the motive.
When Sadness Reveals the Soul
The man in the story walks away sad. I’ve always found that detail striking.
In our culture, if someone leaves a conversation sad, we often assume something went wrong. But Jesus isn’t concerned with surface comfort – He’s concerned with soul transformation.
The man’s sadness was the start of his awakening. Sometimes when God touches a nerve, the first reaction isn’t joy – it’s grief. It’s the pain of realising what we’ve been trusting instead of Him.
I’ve felt that sadness myself. When God has asked me to let go of control, reputation, or security, I haven’t skipped away smiling. But on the other side of surrender, I’ve always found peace.
So perhaps sadness isn’t failure. Perhaps it’s the beginning of freedom.
Impossible… and Yet Possible
The disciples are stunned by Jesus’ words. “Who then can be saved?” they ask.
Jesus replies, “With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God.”
That’s the heart of the gospel. We can’t fix our divided hearts by trying harder or being holier. Only God can do that. Only His grace can replace idols with love, greed with generosity, self-reliance with trust.
And the good news is, He can.
Generosity as Freedom
Jesus’ final words in the passage are stunning: “No one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much.”
There’s a beautiful paradox here. When we release what we hold most tightly, we discover abundance. Not necessarily more money, but more joy, more freedom, more contentment.
Generosity isn’t losing – it’s living.
I’ve seen this in our own church family time and time again. Whether it’s through supporting ministries like the Riverside Pantry, funding building projects, or giving sacrificially during difficult times, every act of generosity seems to unlock something spiritual – in individuals and in the whole community.
When we stop saying “mine” and start saying “yours, Lord,” something shifts.
But Let’s Be Honest
There’s a temptation here too. It’s easy to hear “give and you’ll receive” and think, “Ah, so generosity is a clever way to get blessed.”
But if our motivation for giving is to get, then we’ve missed the point. That’s not generosity; that’s investment. And it simply proves Jesus’ point – our hearts are still clinging to self.
True generosity flows from gratitude, not greed.
The Freedom of Letting Go
I’m increasingly convinced that Jesus’ words about wealth are not about subtraction, but liberation.
He doesn’t want to strip us of joy; He wants to strip away what robs us of joy.
For the rich young ruler, that meant confronting his attachment to wealth. For me, it might mean surrendering control or ego. For you, it might be something else entirely.
But the invitation is always the same: “Come, follow me.”
Because following Jesus isn’t just about believing in Him; it’s about letting Him reorder our loves.
A Church that Trusts God’s Generosity
Right now, our own church stands in a season that calls for trust and generosity. We’ve been praying for provision – possibly even for a new site to serve future generations. It’s daunting. It’s exciting. And it’s humanly impossible without God.
But then again, that’s exactly the kind of situation where faith grows.
The same God who provides for lilies and sparrows, who gave His own Son for us, has the largest bank balance in the universe. Our job isn’t to fund God’s mission; it’s to trust the God of abundance who invites us to join Him.
So as we move forward, my prayer is that generosity won’t just fund projects – it will form hearts.
What Jesus Really Wants
The story of the rich young ruler ends unresolved. We never hear whether the man came back. Maybe he did. Maybe his sadness turned into surrender later on.
But we do know what Jesus wanted for him – and for us.
He wanted freedom. Freedom from the things that own us. Freedom to trust God’s love completely. Freedom to live generously, joyfully, and courageously.
Jesus looked at him and loved him.
He looks at you and loves you too.
So whatever you’re clinging to today – money, control, security, reputation – perhaps it’s time to open your hand. Because what Jesus offers in return is far better than what you’ll ever lose.