The Decision to Walk Away

The story of the rich young ruler shows up in Matthew 19, Mark 10, and Luke 18. 

It’s hard to read this story without it landing heavily.

The man was not rebellious; on the contrary. He was sincere. He was a good man.

He ran to Jesus. He knelt. 

Respectfully.

He asked the right question—the eternal one: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”

Apparently, he knew he had but a few moments in Jesus’ presence, and he asked the one thing he had been bothered by.

And Scripture gives us a detail we can’t miss: Jesus looked at him and loved him.

SIT WITH THAT FOR A MOMENT!

What Jesus said next didn’t come from judgment or irritation. 

It came from love clear enough to confront. 

The man claimed obedience to good works. 

In today’s terms, he blessed the widow; he helped the orphan. He gave to the Salvation Army. He bought gifts for children at Christmas. He paid for the kids to go to a youth camp. He bought a car for his pastor. He sponsored kids in poor countries, and he gave to the missionaries.

Jesus didn’t deny his words. Instead, He went straight to the heart of the matter. 

One thing still owned him. 

His wealth wasn’t just something he possessed—it was something that possessed him..

So Jesus named it. Sell it all. Give it away. And Follow Me.

What stood between him and Jesus was silence. What felt like an hour was only minutes for him to make his decision.

The Bible says the man went away, sorrowful.

And here’s the part we often forget: Jesus let him go.

Jesus didn’t chase him down. He didn’t soften the call. He didn’t lower the standard to keep the relationship.

Because He knew.

Following Christ is always an invitation—never a transaction, never a coercion.

This wasn’t a blanket command for all believers to give away everything they own. It was a personal diagnosis. Jesus put His finger on the very thing this man couldn’t imagine living without. And when faced with a choice between comfort and calling, security and surrender, the man chose what felt safer.

He chose what he wanted more than Christ.

And Jesus let him go.

We never read anything else in the scriptures about this rich ruler again.

That’s the sobering truth of discipleship: God respects our free will. 

Love initiates, but surrender must be returned. Relationship with Christ is never one-sided.

And while wealth was the barrier for this man, it isn’t the only thing that can divide a heart: Comfort can. Fear can. Control can. Pride can. Offense can.

Hurt can.

Even good things, when held too tightly, can become an idol of the heart.

This story forces the question on all of us: What’s the one thing we hesitate to release? What do we cling to while standing in front of Jesus’ loving gaze?

I dare you to look into the eyes of Jesus while you name your reason.

Come with your list of good works, but Christ is looking much deeper than the things you do.

Jesus still calls. Jesus still loves. And Jesus still allows us to choose.