The man of great wealth

A few years ago I read a reflection (sadly, I can't remember where or who by) with an interesting observation about the wealthy man in today's Gospel (Mark  10: 17-30). We generally assume that the man went away grieving because he couldn't bear to sell his many possessions. After all, in Gospels filled with people who were utterly captivated by Jesus, and gladly and immediately left all their possessions, their homes and livelihoods to follow him, surely anyone who went away sadly must have done so because the cost of discipleship felt too high. But what if... what if he went away sadly because he was thinking about all the lovely things he would end up selling? What if he was already grieving for the comfortable life and possessions he knew he would have to give up, having been overwhelmed by Jesus' tender, infinitely loving gaze?

What if he was simply reacting in an all too human way to God's call, as indeed we often do...?

There are times, perhaps during a retreat, when we hear Jesus' invitation to do or be or give more, and leap to embrace it, with joy and lightness. And there are other times, maybe also during a retreat, when the invitation is experienced as challenge; when we long to respond with open arms and a whole heart, but instead we struggle and wrestle, search for loopholes and agonisingly drag our feet even while we pray for the grace to say yes. And then, even when we have said yes, we do so all too aware of everything to which we have said no. We yearn for radicality and holiness, and simultaneously run from them.

What if that wealthy man stands for each one of us, and Jesus still gazes on us with deep, unbounded love, offering the untold riches of his hundredfold, even while we hold back...?