Pentecost 20 – 2022
Luke 18:15-30
Marian Free
In the name of God who loves each one of us unreservedly. Amen.
In my university days I once volunteered to help out at a YMCA camp. The children were of primary school age and my task was to improve the adult/child ratio. It was an exhausting week but mostly it was fun as I enjoy being with and encouraging young people. One thing did disturb me though. When the children arrived, one young boy was pointed out to me: “Keep an eye on him. He’s an attention seeker,” I was told. Over the course of the camp, I was able to spend time with this boy – I’ll call him James – because he was often left on his own by the other children. On more than one occasion, James and I sat next to each other on the bus, and we had some great conversations. I never saw James acting out. Indeed, it seemed to me that James was a polite, well-behaved young person who had a degree of maturity for his age.
James was the son of busy parents and I think he was glad to have an adult take notice of him. I came to understand that if he was, as the other leaders said, “an attention seeker” then it was because he desperately needed attention. My observation was that his so-called “attention-seeking” was a reasonable response to not having had enough attention paid to him. He needed, or so it seemed to me, to be reassured that he was of value, that he was worth something to others. Any sort of attention – positive or negative – told him that he was seen, reassured him that he was not invisible. The fact that I took notice of him meant that he didn’t feel that he had to do anything to be of value to me. He could relax and be the well-behaved, pleasant child that he really was.
I have always been child-focussed, but meeting James was a great eye-opener for me. James was not, as I had been led to believe, a disruptive child. He was a good child who had been deprived of attention and therefore would do anything to ensure that he was noticed even if that being noticed was to be punished. In his mind, any attention was good attention.
It must be awful to be so unsure of one’s place in the world that one feels a constant need to be affirmed. This sort of insecurity can be observed not only in children, but in adults who try to fill the void inside themselves by making others focus on themselves or on their achievements. The overachievers, the playboys, those who affect shyness – I’m sure you can add to the list – are all driven by a need to feel that they are of value, that they have a place in the world.
In today’s gospel a certain ruler approaches Jesus with a question. “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” As I pondered this encounter I began to wonder why the ruler needed Jesus to reassure, to affirm him. As the gospel tells us, the ruler already knew what he must do: ‘not commit adultery; not murder; not steal; not bear false witness; and honour his father and mother.’ It is simple enough – or so we would think. Most of us would feel that we had ticked all these boxes. The ruler certainly has. Why then does he need reassurance from Jesus? What deep well of emptiness does he need to fill by having Jesus affirm his worth? Who has taught him that God will not welcome him unless he meets some exacting standard? What insecurities is his wealth papering over?
Of course, we will never know why the ruler felt so insecure or why he felt that, even though he fulfilled as the requirements, he was not confident of his place before God. What the story tells us though is that his wealth played a significant role in his life. Indeed, his possessions were so important for his sense of well-being that he could not let them go. It seems that he needed the comfort that they gave him in the present as much as he needed assurance about the future.
It is one thing to be unsure of our place in the world, but how much worse must it be to be unsure of our place before God?
Yet the church, or parts of the church, have created an image of God who only welcomes those who behave in a particular way, who meet certain standards and who never stray from the straight and narrow. There are people – good, churchgoing, faithful people – – who are uncertain of God’s love for them. There are people – good, churchgoing, faithful people – who are convinced that they don’t meet the conditions that God expects. There are people – good, churchgoing, faithful people – whose self-esteem is so low that they cannot believe that God could love them. And there are people – good, churchgoing, faithful people – who have not heard, or who have never been assured of God’s unconditional, boundless love.
I hope that you are not one of those people. I hope that you do not feel that there are certain criteria that you have to meet in order for you to inherit eternal life. I hope that this story (or any other) hasn’t been used to make you feel guilty about what you own , what you do or what you don’t do.
God who in Jesus came to an undeserving people as a vulnerable child, God who in Jesus’ demonstrated unconditional love to sinners and to the marginalised, and God, who in Jesus willingly went to the cross, is a God who will do absolutely anything to prove how much God loves us. All God wants in return is that we allow ourselves to be loved, that we believe in God’s love for us and believing in that love that we become whole.


