4 Overlooked Keys to Financial Freedom: Loosening Your Grip

We've been in a series, as you know, and we've arrived at the last cut in the key. This subject might be the hardest one to face in yourself. But we'll learn the lesson through the lens of someone else's experience.

A wealthy man ran up to Jesus one day, out of breath, and dropped to his knees in front of Him. In that society, that sort of action doesn't usually come from someone with money and standing. People with status don't usually kneel before humble rabbis. But this man ran up to a traveling teacher like his life depended on what came next.

"Good Teacher," he asked, "what must I do to inherit eternal life?"

By every measuring stick the people around him would have used, this man had already made it. First because he had money, and by the assumptions of his day, that meant God had already smiled on him.

Second, because when he asked Jesus what he needed to do, Jesus simply told him to keep the commandments and he would have eternal life - and the man claimed he had been keeping them since his youth—quite the bold claim, if you ask me. Yet Jesus didn't correct him.

People around would have watched a wealthy man humble enough to drop to his knees. They would have heard his claim of righteousness go unchallenged by Jesus. And they would have thought, "So what was he still missing?"

What he is missing becomes clear in his exchange with Jesus. There was something in him that had never been named out loud, and the love of God was the only thing that could bring it to the surface.

Wait, that’s Not One of the Ten Commandments?!

Let's take a look at the actual text to gain some insight.

"And as he was setting out on his journey, a man ran up and knelt before him and asked him, 'Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?' And Jesus said to him, 'Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone. You know the commandments: Do not murder, Do not commit adultery, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Do not defraud, Honor your father and mother'" (Mark 10:17–19, ESV).

If you had grown up reciting the Ten Commandments as the Jewish people did, you would remember the order: no other gods, no idols, don't misuse God's name, keep the Sabbath, honor your father and mother — and then you come to the commands about how you treat your neighbor: don't murder, don't commit adultery, don't steal, don't bear false witness, and don't covet.

The first thing a Jewish person might notice about how Jesus replied is that the order of the Commandments is completely wrong. Jesus skips the first four entirely. But watch what happens to the rest of the list. "Honor your father and mother," is normally the fifth commandment. You might say it's the very first command about how you treat your neighbor. Here, Jesus pushes it all the way to the end.

He starts His list with - "Do not murder. Do not commit adultery, etc." But in the spot where "do not covet" belongs, Jesus puts something else: "Do not defraud."

"Do not defraud" isn't one of the Ten Commandments. Why would Jesus replace "Do not covet," with "Do not defraud?" I think it is a clue to what He is about to confront in the heart of the wealthy man kneeling before Him.

In that culture, getting wealthy rarely happened by accident. Please don't think I'm reading a modern political viewpoint back into the text when I say that becoming wealthy in the ancient Near East usually meant somebody else came up short along the way — a worker paid less than a fair wage, a debt collected without mercy, a neighbor's land absorbed a little at a time. You didn't get rich without somebody losing.

The prophets of Israel had been naming this national issue for centuries. Malachi indicted God's own people for the same thing generations earlier, robbing the vulnerable through what they withheld as much as through what they stole outright.

So when I wondered about the order of the Ten Commandments that Jesus gave to this man, some things made sense. Why skip the first four? I think it's because Jesus already knows this man has that part covered — his devotion to God was never really in question here. The real test was always going to be about how he treated the people around him. And on murder, adultery, theft, and false witness, he could likely defend himself without a second thought. But that one line in that list that was never one of the ten was likely the problem. Do not defraud. Perhaps listing the commandment to honor your parents after this is another clue (see Mark 7:9-13)? It seems this is the pointed finger from the Master.

There's a problem with money here. And likely it involves defrauding. Naming that out loud, to a stranger kneeling before you in front of a crowd — that would be bold. Was Jesus implying it instead?

Named From Love

He doesn't leave it at implication for long.

"And Jesus, looking at him, loved him, and said to him, 'You lack one thing: go, sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me'" (Mark 10:21, ESV).

Look at what Mark does right before Jesus says the hardest thing in this whole exchange. He stops the narrative just long enough to tell us Jesus loved this man — specifically, personally. You might be surprised to realize that this is the only time anywhere in Mark's Gospel that Jesus is said to love a particular individual.

That changes the tone of voice I've always imagined behind the statement "you lack one thing." I used to hear it like a command. Now I hear an invitation from someone who loved this wealthy man enough to risk losing him. Real love.

I've come to believe real love almost always works this way. It doesn't just settle for a surface relationship. It beckons for something deeper. And it calls for whatever sacrifice might be necessary for that deeper relationship to develop. Jesus was willing to ask for the one thing that might cost the relationship, because leaving the real problem unnamed would not be loving in the first place.

Revealed, Not Forced

The man's response tells us everything.

"Disheartened by the saying, he went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions" (Mark 10:22, ESV).

The wealthy man doesn't argue, push back, or try to negotiate the terms down to something easier. His face falls, and he simply walks away.

That reaction is the proof. If Jesus had misread this man, if the grip Jesus knew he had on money weren't actually there, this would have been the moment to say so. A person wrongly accused defends himself. This man doesn't defend anything. He grieves, because somewhere underneath the confident claim to have kept every commandment since his youth, he already knew the exact place he had failed.

Here's what I want you to notice: Jesus doesn't chase him down. He doesn't soften the offer, and He doesn't call after him with a lesser version of the same demand. He lets a man He loved walk away holding onto the greed and covetousness that were keeping him from freedom.

Love had done everything it could do. Jesus named the man's grip on money precisely, gently, even at the cost of the relationship. The man never loosened his grip.

This series on financial freedom started with worry, because most of us assume anxious calculation is somehow helping — when really, worry is just trying to do math it was never capable of doing. Then we moved to wisdom, because one good decision doesn't prove a settled heart, and financial freedom depends on repeated wise choices over time. Then discipline, because financial hardship, whether it found you or you brought it on yourself, can form the kind of character that makes good decisions possible, if you respond to it rightly. And now we see love confronting whatever specific thing you are holding onto that is preventing you from walking in real freedom.

Personal character is a necessary part of financial freedom.

Trust, wisdom, discipline, and now love confronting your grip on things other than Christ — four cuts, one key. Apply these consistently, and the door to financial freedom will open.