And he said, All these have I kept from my youth up. He listens to the Master with something like impatient surprise. There is a ring of concealed indignation in his "All these have I ever kept. What do you take me for? I am a religious, God-fearing Jew; from my child-days have I kept these." Kept these! How little the poor questioner knew the secrets of his Own heart! Yet he had answered Jesus in the true spirit of a Pharisee trained carefully in the rabbinic schools. We read, for instance, in the Talmud how "when Rabbi Chaninah was dying, he said to the angel of death, 'Go and fetch me the book of the Law, and see whether there is anything in it which I have not kept.'"
Luke 18:22.—Now when Jesus heard these things, he said unto him, Yet lackest thou one thing. St. Mark (Mark 10:21), who had St. Peter's memories to draw from, adds here a very touching detail. "Jesus beholding him [looking earnestly at him] loved him." There was something noble and true in that life, struggling in the imperfect light of the rabbinic teaching after eternity and heaven, and feeling that in all its struggles some element was surely wanting; and Jesus, as he gazed on the young earnest face, loved him, and proceeded to show him how far removed his life was as yet from the perfect life he dreamed of attaining to. He would show him in a moment how selfish, how earthly, were his thoughts and aims; how firmly chained to earth that heart of his, which he thought only longed for heaven. Sell all that thou hast, and distribute unto the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come, follow me; "Well," the Master said, "I will test you. You say you have from your child-days kept your whole duty to your neighbour; you say that you hunger after the higher righteousness. Do you really? Will you indeed be perfect (Matthew 19:21)? Then I will tell you what you lack. Go, sell those great possessions which I know you love so dearly, and give all to the poor, and come, take up the cross (Mark 10:21), and follow me, the homeless, landless Teacher whom you call by the Divine title 'good.'" The "cross" of St. Mark only Jesus understood then in all its dread significance. It was coming then very near; and the great Teacher saw that his true servants, if they would indeed follow him, must follow him along that lonely road of suffering he was then treading. "Via crucis, via lucis." The young ruler, with his great wealth, thought he had from his youth done his whole duty to his neighbour. The Galilaean Master, whom he so reverenced and admired, reminded him that out of those wide domains, those stored-up riches, out of the mammon of unrighteousness, he had forgotten to make to himself friends who, when he died, should receive him into the eternal tents of heaven. This is what he lacked, lie had probably heard the Lord's teaching in the parables of the unjust steward and of Lazarus.