We live in a world that celebrates achievement. From earning a promotion at work to mastering a new skill, we’re conditioned to believe that hard work pays off. It’s only natural, then, that many of us carry this mindset into our spiritual lives, asking ourselves, “What must I do to secure my place in heaven?” The assumption is that if we’re good enough, if we pray enough, give enough, or avoid enough sins, God will reward us with eternal life. But is that really how salvation works?
The story of the rich young ruler in Luke 18:18-23 directly confronts this question. Here, we meet a man who seems to have it all: wealth, authority, and a life of moral uprightness. He approaches Jesus with a question that echoes the heart of so many: “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” (Luke 18:18, ESV). Yet, as the encounter unfolds, Jesus reveals a profound truth: salvation cannot be earned through human effort. It’s a gift of grace that demands total surrender to Him.
In this blog post, we’ll journey through Luke 18:18-23, breaking down each verse to uncover its meaning. We’ll dig into key words and phrases from the original Greek, using the English Standard Version (ESV) as our guide. Along the way, we’ll see why trying to be “good enough” is a futile pursuit, and how God’s grace offers us something far better.
The Encounter: A Ruler’s Question (Luke 18:18)
“And a ruler asked him, ‘Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?’” (Luke 18:18, ESV)
The story begins with a man described as a “ruler”, in Greek, archōn, a term that denotes someone with authority, perhaps in the synagogue or civic life. This wasn’t just any ordinary person; he was a man of influence and wealth (as we learn later in verse 23). His question to Jesus reveals both his spiritual curiosity and his misunderstanding: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”
The Greek word for “do” here is poieō, which means to perform or accomplish something. This word choice is significant; it shows that the ruler viewed eternal life as a reward he could earn through his own actions. He’s not asking, “Who must I trust?” or “What must I believe?” Instead, he’s focused on performance, a mindset that’s all too common even today.
But there’s more. The ruler addresses Jesus as “Good Teacher,” using the Greek word agathos for “good,” which implies moral excellence and righteousness. This title stands out because it was rarely, if ever, used for rabbis in Jesus’ day. Rabbis were respected as teachers, but “good” was a quality reserved for God alone. By calling Jesus agathos didaskalos (“Good Teacher”), the ruler may have unknowingly hinted at Jesus’ divine identity, though, as we’ll see, he didn’t fully grasp what he was saying.
This opening verse sets the stage for a deeper exploration of goodness, salvation, and the human heart. The ruler’s question reflects a universal longing, but his approach reveals a flawed assumption: that eternal life is a paycheck for a job well done.
Jesus’ Surprising Reply (Luke 18:19)
“And Jesus said to him, ‘Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone.’” (Luke 18:19, ESV)
Jesus’ response catches us off guard. Instead of accepting the title “Good Teacher,” He challenges it: “Why do you call me good?” This isn’t Jesus denying His own goodness, after all, as God incarnate, He is perfectly good. Rather, He’s probing the ruler’s understanding. By saying, “No one is good except God alone,” Jesus forces the man to consider the implications of his words. If only God is good (agathos), then what does it mean to call Jesus “good”? Is the ruler ready to acknowledge Jesus as more than a teacher, perhaps as God Himself?
This moment is a theological turning point. The ruler likely saw Jesus as a wise rabbi who could offer a checklist for salvation. But Jesus redirects the conversation to the source of all goodness: God. In doing so, He subtly exposes the ruler’s self-reliance. If true goodness belongs to God alone, then human efforts to be “good enough” are insufficient. As Romans 3:10 declares, “None is righteous, no, not one.” Our goodness, no matter how impressive, pales in comparison to God’s perfect standard.
For us, this verse is a wake-up call. When we label ourselves or others as “good,” we must ask: By whose standard? Jesus reminds us that only God is truly good, and that changes everything.
The Test of the Law (Luke 18:20)
“You know the commandments: ‘Do not commit adultery, Do not murder, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Honor your father and mother.’” (Luke 18:20, ESV)
Jesus doesn’t immediately answer the ruler’s question with a new task. Instead, He points him to the familiar: the Ten Commandments. Specifically, He lists five commands from what’s often called the “second table” of the law, those dealing with our relationships with others. These include prohibitions against adultery, murder, theft, and false witness, along with the positive command to honor parents.
Why these commandments? Jesus is testing the ruler’s claim to goodness. As an educated Jew, the ruler would have known these laws well. By referencing them, Jesus invites the man to evaluate his life against God’s standard. But notice what’s missing: Jesus omits the “first table” of the law, the commands about loving God above all (e.g., “You shall have no other gods before me”). This omission is intentional, as Jesus will soon address the ruler’s heart toward God directly.
This verse reminds us that God’s law is a mirror, reflecting both our actions and our inner condition. For the ruler, it’s a setup to reveal whether his confidence is well-placed, or misplaced.
The Ruler’s Bold Claim (Luke 18:21)
“And he said, ‘All these I have kept from my youth.’” (Luke 18:21, ESV)
The ruler’s response is bold, even astonishing: “All these I have kept from my youth.” The Greek word for “kept” is phulassō, meaning to guard or observe carefully. He’s claiming a lifetime of meticulous obedience, perhaps starting from his bar mitzvah at age thirteen, when Jewish boys became accountable to the law.
To his credit, the ruler may have avoided these sins outwardly. He likely never murdered, committed adultery, or stole. In the eyes of society, he was a righteous man, much like Paul, who described himself as “blameless” under the law’s external demands (Philippians 3:6). But Jesus’ teaching in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7) reveals a deeper standard. Anger is akin to murder, lust to adultery (Matthew 5:21-28). The ruler’s claim, while impressive, overlooks the heart’s true state.
This moment exposes the danger of self-righteousness. The ruler believed he’d checked all the boxes, but he didn’t see his need for grace. It’s a trap we can fall into as well, thinking our good deeds or moral track record make us worthy of God’s favor. Yet, as Jeremiah 17:9 warns, “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?”
The One Thing Lacking (Luke 18:22)
“When Jesus heard this, he said to him, ‘One thing you still lack. Sell all that you have and distribute to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.’” (Luke 18:22, ESV)
Jesus’ reply is both piercing and compassionate. He says, “One thing you still lack”, in Greek, eti hen soi leipei, indicating a critical deficiency (leipō means to fall short). Despite the ruler’s wealth, status, and moral life, something essential is missing.
What is it? Jesus tells him: “Sell all that you have and distribute to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” This isn’t a universal command for all believers but a tailored challenge for this man. Jesus sees that the ruler’s riches are his idol, a barrier to true devotion. By asking him to sell everything and give to the poor, Jesus tests his love for God and neighbor, the essence of the law (Deuteronomy 6:5; Leviticus 19:18).
The promise of “treasure in heaven” contrasts fleeting earthly wealth with eternal reward. But the heart of Jesus’ call is “follow me”, a summons to discipleship, to a life of total surrender. For the ruler, following Jesus meant letting go of his security and identity. For us, it might mean releasing something different, a dream, a habit, or a relationship. The question is the same: Will we trust Jesus more than we trust ourselves?
The Sorrowful Rejection (Luke 18:23)
“But when he heard these things, he became very sad, for he was extremely rich.” (Luke 18:23, ESV)
The ruler’s response is heartbreaking. He “became very sad”, in Greek, perilypos, meaning deeply grieved. His wealth, described as “extremely rich,” holds him back. Faced with a choice between his riches and Jesus, he chooses his riches and walks away.
This moment reveals the power of idolatry. The ruler’s money wasn’t just a possession; it was his god. As 1 Timothy 6:10 cautions, “The love of money is a root of all kinds of evils.” His sorrow shows the cost of clinging to what cannot save. He wanted eternal life, but not at the expense of his true treasure.
This verse challenges us to examine our own hearts. What are we unwilling to release for Jesus? The ruler’s story warns that anything we value more than Christ can lead us away from Him.
The Truth About Salvation
What does this passage teach us about salvation? First, it dismantles the idea that we can earn it. The ruler had everything, wealth, morality, respect, yet he still lacked what mattered most. His story echoes Romans 3:23: “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” No amount of good works can bridge that gap.
But there’s hope. In the verses that follow (Luke 18:24-27), Jesus says it’s easier for a camel to pass through a needle’s eye than for a rich person to enter God’s kingdom. When the disciples ask, “Then who can be saved?” Jesus replies, “What is impossible with man is possible with God.” Salvation isn’t our achievement; it’s God’s gift, received through faith in Christ (Ephesians 2:8-9).
The Call to Discipleship
While salvation is free, discipleship has a cost. Jesus’ invitation to “follow me” requires surrender, not to earn eternal life, but as a response to it. For the ruler, it meant forsaking wealth. For us, it might mean something else. As Jesus said in Luke 14:33, “Any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.” True followers prioritize Christ above all.
Rest in Grace, Follow in Love
The rich young ruler’s story reminds us that no one can be “good enough” for heaven. Our efforts will always fall short. But God, in His mercy, sent Jesus to do what we couldn’t, live perfectly, die for our sins, and rise again. Salvation is His gift to us, not our wage to Him.
If you’re striving to earn God’s approval, stop. Trust in Christ’s finished work. And if you’ve already received His grace, ask yourself: What’s holding me back from following Him fully? Lay it down, and discover the joy of a life surrendered to Jesus.
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