The Jesuit Guide To (Almost) Everything - James Martin [81]
THE RICH YOUNG MAN
After my eight-day retreat at Campion Center (when I thought about Jesus as a friend), I asked the Jesuits if I could enter the novitiate that same summer. Wisely, they counseled waiting for a year, until I had more experience of prayer and knew more about the Society of Jesus. Impatient, I asked them to reconsider. Eventually they agreed to let me commence the process, while cautioning that finding out so late meant I would have only a short time to quit my job, move out of my apartment, and prepare for the entrance date of August 28. So I embarked on the long process: undergoing several in-depth interviews, running through endless psychological tests, writing long essays, tracking down my baptismal records, and so on.
On August 15, the vocations director phoned to say that I had been accepted for entrance. “Is that what they mean by getting the call? ” my sister asked dryly.
Immediately afterward, and even though this is not recommended, I started giving away all my possessions. (Most Jesuits wait until they take vows at the end of novitiate before they fully divest themselves of their possessions.)
My money and car went to my parents. My suits would sit in my parents’ house in case the novitiate didn’t work out. (I wasn’t taking any chances.) The rest of my clothes went to Goodwill Industries, which would distribute them to the poor. My books went to friends who dropped by one sultry afternoon to scour my bookshelves. “I wish more of my friends joined religious orders,” said one friend.
As I write this today, I can remember the initial burst of happiness I felt. How liberating it was! No more worrying about whether my suits were the proper shade of gray, my shoes the right brand, my ties the appropriate hue. No more worrying about whether I should rent an apartment or buy one. No more worrying about whether I needed a new this or a new that.
At Sunday Mass a few months before, the Gospel reading was of the “rich young man” who asks Jesus what is needed for eternal life. Its inclusion in the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke underlines its importance for the early Christians. When Jesus tells the man to follow the Ten Commandments, the man replies, in the Gospel of Luke, “I have kept all these since my youth” (18:21). Jesus can see that he is a good person. Mark’s Gospel says Jesus “loved him” (10:21).
“There is still one thing lacking,” says Luke’s Jesus. “Sell all that you own and distribute the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”
But as Luke writes, the wealthy man “became sad.” He doesn’t want to give up what he owns. The Gospel of Mark is more poignant. “When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.”
That passage is often interpreted to mean the only way to get to heaven is to sell all you own. “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!” says Jesus in Mark. Consequently, this is a hard passage for many people to hear. A friend of mine once said, “I hate that story!” He felt that Jesus was making a ridiculous demand. “Who can do that?” he asked.
But as I see it, Jesus is not saying that one cannot own anything at all in order to be a good person. As St. Thomas Aquinas noted, “Possession of a few goods is important for a well-ordered life.” Everyone outside of monasteries and religious orders needs some possessions in order to live.
Beyond the emphasis on a simple life, Jesus is showing his intuitive understanding of what was preventing the young man from growing closer to God. He has put his finger on what Ignatius would call the man’s “disordered