What is impossible with man is possible with God. These words from Jesus in Luke 18:27 cut through the noise of our doubts, our fears, and our limitations like a blade of divine clarity. They’re not just a statement; they’re a promise, a challenge, and an invitation to see the world through the lens of God’s boundless power. Jesus speaks these words in the wake of a conversation that left his disciples stunned—a rich young ruler, earnest and devout, walks away sorrowful because he cannot let go of his wealth to follow Christ. The disciples, grappling with the implications, wonder aloud: if a man so outwardly righteous can’t enter the kingdom, who can? Jesus’ response is both sobering and hopeful: what seems impossible to us is not impossible to God. This verse, tucked into a moment of human struggle, reveals the heart of the gospel—a God who transcends our limitations and calls us into a life of radical trust.
Let’s start with the context, because context shapes meaning. The rich young ruler had just approached Jesus with a burning question: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” He’s a good man by human standards—keeps the commandments, lives uprightly, checks all the boxes. But Jesus, with that piercing insight only he possesses, sees the man’s heart. He knows this man’s wealth isn’t just a possession; it’s an idol, a chain. So Jesus tells him to sell everything, give to the poor, and follow him. The man’s face falls, and he walks away, unable to let go. The disciples are floored. In their world, wealth was often seen as a sign of God’s favor. If this guy, with all his resources and piety, can’t make it, what hope is there for anyone else? Jesus’ answer— “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God! Indeed, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God”—leaves them reeling. They ask, “Who then can be saved?” And that’s when Jesus delivers the line that stops them in their tracks: “What is impossible with man is possible with God.”
This isn’t just about money, though money’s a real stumbling block for many of us. It’s about the human condition—our tendency to rely on our own strength, our own resources, our own goodness to secure our place in God’s kingdom. The rich young ruler thought he could earn his way in, that his moral resume was enough. But Jesus shows him, and us, that no amount of human effort can bridge the gap between our brokenness and God’s holiness. The impossibility lies in our self-sufficiency, our insistence on doing it our way. We’re all like that young man in some way, clinging to something—whether it’s money, status, control, or even our own sense of righteousness—that keeps us from fully surrendering to God. And Jesus says, “You can’t do it. It’s impossible. But God can.”
This is where the theological rubber meets the road. Luke 18:27 points us to the doctrine of grace—God’s unmerited favor that does for us what we cannot do for ourselves. The impossibility of salvation by human effort underscores our need for a Savior. It’s not that God demands perfection and leaves us to figure it out; it’s that God knows our imperfection and provides the way through his own power. The apostle Paul echoes this in Ephesians 2:8-9: “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast.” The rich young ruler’s story isn’t about condemning wealth; it’s about exposing the futility of trusting in anything other than God. Salvation is God’s work, not ours. What we cannot achieve, God accomplishes through the cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
But let’s not stop at salvation. This verse isn’t just about getting to heaven; it’s about living in the reality of God’s power right now. If what is impossible with man is possible with God, then every obstacle, every struggle, every dead end in our lives is subject to God’s transformative power. Think about the things that feel impossible to you today. Maybe it’s a broken relationship that seems beyond repair—words spoken in anger that can’t be taken back, trust shattered by betrayal. Maybe it’s an addiction that’s gripped you or someone you love, a cycle that feels unbreakable. Maybe it’s a dream you’ve buried because the odds are stacked against you, or a fear that keeps you awake at night, whispering that you’re not enough. Jesus looks at those impossibilities and says, “With God, there’s another story.”
This truth invites us to a posture of surrender and trust. Surrender doesn’t mean giving up; it means giving over—handing our limitations to a God who specializes in the impossible. The Bible is full of impossible stories: Abraham and Sarah, too old to have a child, yet God gives them Isaac. The Israelites, trapped between the Red Sea and Pharaoh’s army, yet God parts the waters. Lazarus, dead for four days, yet Jesus calls him out of the tomb. These aren’t just ancient tales; they’re reminders that God’s power isn’t confined by our logic or our circumstances. When we say, “I can’t,” God says, “I can.” When we say, “It’s over,” God says, “It’s not finished.”
So how do we live this out? First, we need to name our impossibilities. What’s the thing you’re carrying that feels too heavy, too big, too broken? Be honest with yourself and with God. The rich young ruler’s problem wasn’t his wealth; it was his unwillingness to let go of it. What are you holding onto that’s keeping you from trusting God fully? Maybe it’s pride, the need to control your own destiny. Maybe it’s fear, the belief that God won’t come through. Name it, bring it into the light, and lay it at Jesus’ feet. That’s where transformation begins.
Second, lean into prayer. Prayer isn’t just asking God to fix things; it’s aligning our hearts with his power. When we pray, we’re not twisting God’s arm to do what we want; we’re opening ourselves to what he’s already doing. Pray boldly for the impossible. Pray for the marriage that’s falling apart, for the child who’s wandered far from home, for the strength to forgive someone who doesn’t deserve it. And pray with expectation, because the God who spoke the universe into existence isn’t intimidated by your problems.
Third, act in faith. Trusting God doesn’t mean sitting back and waiting for a miracle. Sometimes God’s power shows up in our obedience, in the small steps we take toward the impossible. The rich young ruler was invited to act—to sell his possessions, give to the poor, and follow Jesus. He didn’t take that step, but we can. Maybe for you, acting in faith means having a hard conversation you’ve been avoiding. Maybe it means stepping out in generosity when your bank account says you shouldn’t. Maybe it means forgiving someone even when it hurts. Faith is active, not passive. It’s trusting that God will meet you in the doing.
Finally, anchor yourself in community. The disciples didn’t hear Jesus’ words in isolation; they were together, wrestling with the implications of his teaching. We need each other to remind us of God’s power when our own vision falters. Find people who will pray with you, challenge you, and point you back to Jesus when the impossible feels overwhelming. Share your struggles and your hopes, and let others carry the burden with you. The church isn’t a perfect place, but it’s a place where God’s power can work through broken people to do impossible things.
Luke 18:27 isn’t a platitude to slap on a coffee mug; it’s a lifeline for the weary, a declaration for the doubter, a promise for the broken. What is impossible with man is possible with God—not because we’re strong, but because he is. Not because we deserve it, but because he’s gracious. Not because we’ve figured it out, but because he’s already working. So take heart today. Whatever feels impossible in your life, bring it to the God who makes all things possible. Trust him, follow him, and watch him do what only he can do.
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