Happy Nihilists
Jesus is guiding the rich young ruler into an important moment of self-discovery: All that I am (and I’m a lot) and all that I’ve done (and I’ve done a lot) are not enough for all that I need. The rich young ruler’s life, as good as it is, needs to change.
It’s important to note that this kid—who has it all together—is no less loved by Jesus than the little children he’s just taken into his arms and blessed, no less loved by him than the disciples who have already left their comfortable lives behind. So Jesus gives him a gift. He moves from a cognitive displacement to a behavioral displacement. “Go, sell all you have, and give the money to the poor.”
That’s a tough break. Jesus has identified the guy’s weak spot, something superbians judiciously protect. We protect that tender spot because we recognize, at a heart level if not consciously, that Me-Ville is a prison. And in prison you have to watch your back. Vulnerability is a liability in Me-Ville, but vulnerability with Jesus, we learn, is our ticket out.
It’s not enough, however, merely to realize that Me-Ville is a prison. That’s what nihilists do, and let’s be honest, have you ever met a happy nihilist? Nihilists have reached the conclusion, whether by observing the world around them through the jaded lens of bitter experience or simply by reading people like Albert Camus and Jean-Paul Sartre, that nothing means anything, that anything goes only because nothing matters. They’ve learned to think differently about the world they inhabit than many of us; what Jesus teaches us in intimate encounters such as this one with the rich young ruler, they’ve discovered in isolation. But because they’re isolated in their discovery, they’re left devoid of hope.
We don’t just need to think differently if we want to break out of the prison that Me-Ville has become, we learn not from the nihilists but from Jesus; we need to live differently.
Quoted from Deliver Us from Me-Ville, by David A. Zimmerman. Published by David C. Cook.
Created over 2 years ago
