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Sermon: The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost Year C - 26th September 2010
St Alban's Anglican Church Epping 7, 8 and 10am
Readings: Jeremiah 32:1-3a, 6-15, Psalm 91:1-6, 14-16 1 Timothy 6: 6-19 Luke 16:19-31
The story of Lazarus and the rich man has its origins in an Egyptian folk tale that made its way into Jewish folklore. In one Jewish legend, a husband repents after his wife sends him a warning from the underworld. In Jesus' tale, no admonition is given to those who refuse to heed the word of God.
We encounter that unsettling and uncomfortable story about the rich man and poor Lazarus. How do you imagine the story? One reflection that I read described story in this manner, with one or two textural alterations of my own. The rich man arrayed himself in purple, the colour of royalty and feasted sumptuously every day. … a rotund man, draped in a bright robe with big cuffs, smacking his lips as he polishes off another turkey drumstick. Poor Lazarus lies outside his gate, hungry, covered with sores that the stray dogs lick.
Both men die; Lazarus likely of starvation, the rich man of a heart attack or stroke or other fat and cholesterol induced condition (read "microcosm of today's world"). Lazarus goes to heaven; and the rich man, well, he goes to that place of torment and fire.
"Send Lazarus," he cries out, "to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony". No go. Lazarus has found rest and isn't going to be anybody's lackey. And, there is this insurmountable problem of a chasm between the two men that cannot be crossed.
In an apparently uncharacteristic burst of altruism, the rich man worries about his five brothers back on earth and asks that Lazarus be allowed to go and warn them about what has happened to him. No to that, too. If they aren't willing to listen to the prophets' calls for justice, scaring the hell out of them (or into them, as the case may be) won't do any good. It's a little jab at the "fire and brimstone" preaching that seems to be so in vogue (here in the Diocese of Sydney). Invitations to mercy and justice always speak louder than shouts designed to frighten.
As Lazarus was stuck with his lot in life, so the rich man is stuck with his lot in death. His sin? He refused to cross the chasm between him and Lazarus in their first life. His inability to walk outside his gate, to share his abundance, doomed him forever. He kept himself apart and such is his sentence for eternity. He became what he loved.
Paul addresses the same issue directly: "We brought nothing into the world, so that we can take nothing out of it; but if we have food and clothing, we will be content with these. But those who want to be rich fall into temptation and are trapped by many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil and in their eagerness to be rich some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pains ... They are to do good, to be rich in good works, generous and ready to share, thus storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of the life that really is life".
While the reversal of fortune in this parable promises a great day of justice, this passage poses some tough questions about the nature and capacity of God's forgiveness. The abyss between Lazarus and the rich man is reversed in eternity. No mercy or forgiveness can reach the rich man because of his refusal to bridge the chasm in his lifetime. This story begs the question, “Is God's mercy limited by our refusals and selfish behaviour?” Can we behave so reprehensibly that God will forever cast us out of his love?
Jesus is describing the effect of living by the chasms of our world, not prescribing God's eternal response to our sin. We might wish for the rich man's family to get the message and repent of their ways, but this is a paltry feeling compared to God's deep longing. God groans for repentance and justice, just as Jesus longed for the Pharisees to correct their ways, lead, and teach the people in the ways of the Lord.
At sometime or other, I believe we have all fantasized about justice for those who persecute, us and others, for appropriate punishment to fall on those who most abuse, who most torment, who most benefit from the injustice of our world. I have a story about hopeful retribution that I wished upon another. In my early years at high school, I had a love hate relationship, with another student, who went by the name of Laurie “Rocker” Farrell. Rocker had one of those James Dean, “Rebel Without a Cause” hairstyle and approach to life. I hated him and he love to torment me. It was Rocker’s role in life to do anything that would irritate me, because I think that it was because I was a churchgoer. His favourite act was to destroy my school case. I do not know how many I went through, but it must have caused my parents a considerable expense. I was constantly planning how to carry out some act of retribution. I never got to put the plan into practice. Anyway, I made to fourth year and to my surprise, Rocker had left at the end of third year. Oh! What joy.
Some thirty years later when I was the Assistant Priest at Saint James King Street, the Youth Group sponsored the youth group of a parish in Wagga Wagga to take up the Emmaus youth group programme. They did the same here. Well you never would guess, but who happened to be leadership team of adults, but Rocker Farrell. He’d got religion! So much for my attempts at retribution.
The story of Lazarus comes from the one who was God's redeeming gesture on this planet. In Christ, the cycles of violence and neglect are ended. We still live with the repercussions, but the promise is that ultimately all will be free in love and forgiveness.
As we hear again the story, we can see that “poverty” doesn’t lie outside the rich man’s gate; a poor, starving human being does. He is covered with sores, willing to eat scraps; a man, with a name: Lazarus. The rich man, although his sumptuous lifestyle would have him deny it, has a need too. The rich man needs to see Lazarus as a brother. Together they could help each other experience life that it is meant to be lived. However, during this life, the rich man does not notice Lazarus, much less care for him. It’s as if Lazarus doesn’t exist for him. A great chasm separates the two men, a chasm of the rich man’s making.
In heaven, all is reversed. Lazarus is content. The rich man is in torment. The rich man longs for even a drop of water to cool the tongue that had tasted so many pleasing foods during his life.
Still, the rich man still does not care about Lazarus. In his torment, he wants to use Lazarus as a servant. The chasm built in between them in life has become impassable. It has become un-crossable.
The truth of this parable is that the rich man needs Lazarus as much as Lazarus needs the rich man. The independence that riches seem to bring is only an illusion. The rich man thinks he can afford not to see Lazarus lying outside his gate. The rich man lives under the illusion that we are islands, contrary to John Donne’s wisdom.
"All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated...As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come: so this bell calls us all: but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness ... No man is an island, entire of itself...any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."
We are separated by gulfs, and we can only build so many bridges. The rich man lives with the illusion that we are intrinsically separate beings, our own possessions and that to be responsible only for ourselves is enough.
Like Cain in Genesis, the rich man shrugs, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” assuming it is a rhetorical question, not dreaming that the answer may be yes. Yes, you are responsible and your choices, to see, to notice, to serve, to love, or not, do matter.
Perhaps for the rich man the gulf between himself and the beggar with his sores brings him a sense of safety. Perhaps he feels there is little he can do, little difference he can make. Perhaps he sees the gulf as a necessary evil. Perhaps the rich man is afraid of really being seen; of being revealed as inept or powerless or empty despite his material success.
Jesus’ parable points to something better for us, something better and more real, the reality that we were created not to be alone, but to be loved; not to be users of one another, but to be partners with God in the world. We were created not to dig chasms and let gulfs separate us, but to build bridges.
Who are we in this parable? We are not Lazarus, although we may be longing for something. We are not the rich man, although we may have more than we need of material possessions. We are the five brothers, the brothers and sisters of the rich man, still living, whom the rich man wishes to warn, to save us from the torment of being on one side of a chasm. To save us from the torment of being separated from God. To save us from the torment of being of only being able to use people, not loving them and not serving them. We are the five brothers, in danger of waiting for some spectacular sign from God before we will take the message seriously.
No. We have all the signs we need. We have the Word, we have the prophets, we even have a man risen from the dead.
All of us have someone sitting by our gates, someone who gives us the opportunity to fulfil the promises of our baptismal covenant. We are to g o forth into the world in peace. Where we are to be of good courage; to hold fast that which is good; to render to no one evil for evil; to strengthen the fainthearted; to support the weak; to help the afflicted; to give honour to all; and to love and serve the Lord, all the while rejoicing in the power of the Holy Spirit.
We have a choice: to build bridges or dig chasms.
This sermon composed using material from www.sojo.net K J Verhulst and J Hollyday
www.worship-that-works.org Dr A Richter.