Who Then Can Be Saved?

The rich young ruler walked away sorrowful from the very Son of God. His story forces us to face our own condition, God’s perfect solution in Christ, and the personal choice each of us must make about salvation and eternal life.

The question: who then can be saved?

When you open the New Testament, the first four books—Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John—are called the Gospels. They are eyewitness accounts of people who lived with the Lord Jesus Christ and recorded His words, His actions, and what He was like.

Unlike other historical records that might tell us what great leaders did, the Gospels give us what He said, what He felt, how He dealt with people. Much of these books is simply the spoken words of Christ Himself, often in deeply personal encounters. Reading them is like being a “fly on the wall,” listening in as the Lord Jesus interacts with real people, one by one.

One of those encounters is with a man we often call “the rich young ruler.” Matthew records it for us in Matthew 19:16-26 (NKJV).

Two questions rise out of this passage and shape this message:

• The rich man’s question: “Good Teacher, what good thing shall I do that I may have eternal life?”

• The disciples’ question: “Who then can be saved?”

The Bible’s answer revolves around three great themes that run all through the Gospels:

• Man’s natural condition

• God’s solution

• Man’s responsibility

Man’s natural condition

What condition are you and I in before God—naturally, as we are?

The Bible’s word for our problem is “sin.” That’s not a popular word today. You won’t often hear it in casual conversation. Yet Scripture brings it before us again and again. Sin is simply ungodliness—falling short of God’s perfection, failing to be what we ought to be before a holy God.

The rich young ruler is a striking illustration of how most of us think. He comes to the Lord Jesus confident that he is, essentially, a good person. When Christ points him to the commandments, he answers quickly, almost casually:

“All these things I have kept from my youth up.”

That attitude would fit well in our own society. If you asked many people today, “Are you a sinner?” they would likely say, “No, not really. I’m not perfect, but I’m not that bad. I’m better than a lot of people.”

But notice: even this man, who thinks he is righteous, still comes to Jesus with a question:

“What good thing shall I do that I may have eternal life?”

Why ask that, if everything was truly fine? His own heart betrayed something he could not escape—a nagging sense that he was not ready for eternity, not fully right with God, not sure of heaven.

If you were honest with yourself, wouldn’t you say the same? If you stood before the Judge of heaven and earth—absolutely holy, absolutely perfect—could you really say, “There is no fault here. My whole past is clean”?

To picture it, imagine a courtroom. Every person is brought before the Judge, and the question is simple:

• Perfect

• or Guilty

Before I was saved, if my life had been examined there, the verdict would have had to be: “Guilty. Ungodly. A sinner.” Not only because I had done wrong things, but because those wrong actions were really symptoms of a deeper problem.

Like pain that points to a hidden disease, or a fever that reveals an infection, my sins were proof of something wrong at the core. I sin because I am a sinner by nature. I was born that way. So were you. It is not just what we do; it is what we are.

The Bible puts it soberly:

“‘Behold, all souls are Mine;The soul of the fatherAs well as the soul of the son is Mine;The soul who sins shall die.’” Ezekiel 18:4

This is more than, “You aren’t all you could be—try harder and improve yourself.” That is the message of many religious systems and self-help programs: work through these steps, put in the effort, and you’ll gradually become a better you.

But that message never reaches the root. It doesn’t change what we are before God: sinners, guilty and separated from Him. Left there, that is depressing and hopeless.

Yet the Bible calls this a gospel—good news—because it doesn’t stop at our condition.

God’s solution to our sin

Thank God the Bible moves from man’s condition to God’s solution.

This is not my solution, not a church’s idea, not a system invented at a Gospel Hall. It is God’s own answer to the deepest problem of the human heart. If anyone is qualified to solve the problem of sin, it is the Creator of heaven and earth.

We are approaching two great seasons that remind us of that solution:

• Christmas – when we remember the birth of the Lord Jesus

• Easter – when we remember His death, burial, and resurrection

Christmas is, at its heart, a celebration of this staggering truth: God came into the world as a man. One of His titles is “Emmanuel”—God with us. God sent His Son, born as a baby in Bethlehem, laid in a manger. That is the first part of the solution.

But Christmas alone is not enough. We also need what Easter proclaims—the cross, the tomb, and the empty grave. Christ not only came; He died, He was buried, and He rose again.

Why is that necessary?

Return to the courtroom picture. You and I are on the “guilty” side. We know the verdict is just. We know the sentence is death and eternal separation from God. There is no bargaining, no plea deal, no escape route we can carve out for ourselves.

Then Someone stands up and says, in effect:

“Yes, that person is guilty. But I am willing to take their punishment in full.”

That is what happened at the cross.

The Lord Jesus came into the world as a real man. He was taken, abused, mocked, and crucified. Men nailed Him to a cross outside the city. Yet beyond the cruelty of people, something far deeper took place: for three dark hours, the holy God of heaven poured out on His Son the judgment that was due to me and due to you.

The punishment that should have fallen on us fell on Him.

There, at the cross, He bore the judgment of a guilty world—my judgment, your judgment. This is God’s great solution to the problem of sin. No greater answer could ever be imagined.

Man’s responsibility: will you accept the substitute?

If Christ has come, if He has satisfied God’s justice, if He has paid the debt in full—why isn’t the whole world automatically forgiven?

Why can’t we simply say, “Jesus died for everyone, so I’m free to live as I please; God has no more claims on me”?

Because the Bible makes it clear: you have a responsibility.

We see that in the rich young ruler. The Lord Jesus puts His finger on the real issue in the man’s life. The point of the story is not that it is wrong to be rich. The Lord is not condemning wealth itself.

The issue is that this man had made his riches his god. He valued his possessions, his position, his status more than eternal life, more than Christ Himself. He had broken the very first command:

“You shall have no other gods before Me.”

So when the Lord tells him, “Sell what you have, give to the poor, and come, follow Me,” the man’s heart is exposed. He chooses his wealth over the Savior. He goes away sorrowful.

Back to the courtroom. The Judge has declared the verdict and announced the penalty. Christ has stepped forward and offered Himself as your substitute. The Judge turns and looks you in the eye and asks, in effect:

“Here is a Substitute for you. Will you accept Him?”

This is your responsibility. God is fully satisfied with what Christ has done. The resurrection is His great declaration of that satisfaction.

The empty tomb says that the work is finished, the debt is paid, and God is pleased with the sacrifice of His Son.

But what about you? Will you accept Christ? Will you rest on what He has done at the cross as enough for your soul for eternity?

The rich young ruler would not. He went away sorrowful. The Lord Jesus stood before him, offering eternal life, and he turned away to keep his possessions.

Sorrow or joy: the choice before you

The gospel is good news because it offers a complete solution to a real problem. You are a sinner by nature and by action, guilty before a holy God, and the sentence is death and eternal separation from Him.

But the God who could have left you there instead acted in love. He sent His Son into the world, to the manger, to the cross, to the tomb, and out of the grave. He now offers you forgiveness, peace with God, and eternal life, as a gift.

“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” John 3:16

That is the greatest love story ever told. But it is love that will not force you. God will not make you accept His Son. He offers a gift, and you must either receive it or refuse it.

You can ignore the gospel and go on with your life—busy, religious, successful perhaps—without God. He will honour your choice. But remember the rich young ruler:

• He stood face to face with the Son of God.

• He was offered treasure in heaven.

• He walked away, clinging to his wealth.

• He went away sorrowful.

If you live for this world—its possessions, its status, its temporary pleasures—your life will ultimately be marked by that same sorrow.

There is another path. When you accept the Savior, you go away joyful, resting on a finished work, trusting a risen Christ, knowing your sins are forgiven and your eternity is secure.

The writer of this message trusted Christ as a young boy and has never regretted that decision. Christ has been enough—for life, for death, and for eternity.

As you think about Christmas and Easter—about the manger and the cross, the tomb and the empty grave—ask yourself honestly:

Have I trusted Christ? Have I accepted God’s great gift of salvation? Who then can be saved?

On your own, with men, this is impossible.

But with God—because of Christ—all things are possible.