Discussion Questions

David Bercot says Jesus’ words about the rich “distressed you when you heard them read,” and that wealthier Christians were “distressed because you heard them without examining them.” What specific “erroneous understanding” of Jesus’ teaching to the rich do you think he is confronting, and how might that same misunderstanding show up in our church culture today? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What wrong idea about Jesus’ teaching on wealth do you think Bercot is pushing back against? How do you see that same wrong idea in churches today?

The chapter insists Jesus “teaches nothing in a merely human way” and warns against hearing his statements in a “mundane, human sense.” When you listen to Jesus’ command, “sell what you have and give to the poor… and come, follow me,” what are the common “mundane” ways modern Christians reinterpret it, and what would it look like to seek the “real meaning hidden in his words” without explaining away the plain force of the command? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What are some common “everyday” ways Christians explain away Jesus’ command to sell what you have, give to the poor, and follow him? What would it look like to look for his real meaning without weakening the command?

The rich man asks, “What good things shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?” and Jesus immediately redirects him: “Why do you call me good? None is good except God.” What does this reveal about God as “the first and only dispenser of eternal life,” and how does that reshape the way we talk about “goodness,” “salvation,” and “eternal life” in a performance-driven religious environment? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Why does Jesus shift the rich man from “What good things should I do?” to “Only God is good”? How should that change the way we talk about goodness, salvation, and eternal life in a church culture focused on performance?

The chapter says, “We can possess God through knowledge and understanding… For the only true life is this: to know him and take him for your own, to love him and to become like him,” and then adds, “Ignorance of him is death.” How does this definition of “life” challenge versions of Christianity that treat salvation mainly as a legal status, and what practices would actually aim at “knowing God” in the sense described here? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If real life is “knowing God, loving him, and becoming like him,” how does that challenge a view of salvation that is mostly a legal status? What habits would actually help someone know God in this deeper way?

Jesus gives commandments (adultery, murder, stealing, false testimony, defrauding, honoring parents), and the rich man claims he has kept them “since he was young.” The chapter treats that claim as credible and even admirable. How does it confront modern suspicion toward serious obedience, and what would early Christians likely assume about a disciple who claimed a lifelong pattern of keeping God’s commands? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Why does the chapter treat the rich man’s lifelong obedience as believable and even good? How does that challenge our modern distrust of strict obedience, and what would early Christians likely think of someone who said they had kept God’s commands for years?

Bercot highlights that Jesus “looked at him, loved him,” and yet tells him he “still lack[s] one thing” and is “not perfect with respect to eternal life.” What does Jesus’ love alongside his hard requirement reveal about God’s character—especially the relationship between divine love and divine demands? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What does it show about God that Jesus loves the rich man but still tells him he lacks something and must do something hard? What does that say about how God’s love and God’s demands fit together?

The author argues that the law is “good” and provides “training with fear and preparatory discipline,” but that the rich man was still “idle at the true life” and needed “the newness of grace.” In what ways does this chapter redefine “grace” as something more than pardon, and how does it challenge evangelical instincts to contrast “law” and “grace” as if grace removes the need for costly obedience? JumpstartAnother way to ask: How does this chapter describe grace as more than just forgiveness? How does it challenge the idea that grace cancels the need for costly obedience?

The chapter says if Moses’ law had been sufficient for eternal life, “there wouldn’t have been any reason for the Savior to come and suffer for us,” and it points to the rich man’s kneeling plea as evidence that law-keeping didn’t give him “real life.” Where do you see Christians today relying on a “Moses-like” approach (rules, moral achievement, respectable living) while still being “destitute of real life,” and what exposes that emptiness? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Where do you see Christians relying on rules, moral success, or “respectable living,” but still feeling empty inside? What things reveal that emptiness?

Jesus says it is “easier for a camel to enter through the eye of a needle” than for the rich to enter the kingdom, and the disciples respond, “Then who can be saved?” What does their shock suggest about the early Christian assumption regarding wealth and salvation, and how does that compare with contemporary Christian comfort with affluence? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Why were the disciples so shocked when Jesus said it’s very hard for the rich to enter the kingdom? How does their reaction compare with how comfortable many Christians today are with being wealthy?

Peter says, “We have left all,” and Jesus promises “a hundred times as much now… with persecutions,” and “in the world to come… life everlasting,” ending with “many who are first will be last.” What concrete decisions about possessions, family ties, security, and social status would “leaving what is his own… for my sake and the sake of the Gospel” require in a modern context, and what would it look like to embrace the promised “with persecutions” rather than treating suffering as a sign something is wrong? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What might it actually cost today to “leave everything” for Jesus—money, comfort, family plans, safety, or social status? What would it look like to accept suffering and pushback as part of following Jesus, instead of assuming it means something has gone wrong?