I never noticed it before. There is a story in the New Testament where a rich young man approaches Jesus and asks how to earn eternal life. He is told to sell all that he has, and give the money to the poor. It was easy to dismiss the middle step, and just imagine him handing over his treasures to the needy.

 

But a woman in church brought our attention to the transaction in between. When you sell your belongings, you assess their worth. Hold them in your hands and consider what they mean. This is different than just tossing them to the closest orphan. 

 

If we compare our material possessions to those attributes that comprise our character, this is a chance to evaluate them. 

 

"I have a temper. How do I feel about that? Do I choose to hang on to it, or let it go?"

 

"I want things done my way, which is often the best way. What is that control worth to my eternal life?"

 

Releasing parts of ourselves can be eviscerating. I remember once donating a quilt to a victim of a natural disaster. It was an anonymous gift, and the gesture lacked a face. It felt almost painful to offer it, which is what I recall. I have no recollection of the quilt itself. 

 

The fabric was a symbol for something I was clinging to. Not greed exactly, but the antonym of generosity. 

 

There is another small detail I never noticed before, squished between Jesus looking at the rich man, and speaking to him. 

 

 

Then Jesus, looking at him, loved him, and said to him, “One thing you lack: Go your way, sell whatever you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, take up the cross, and follow Me.” Mark 10