Pentecost
19
September
25, 2016
Luke
16:19-31
The
chasm that separated the Rich Man and Lazarus didn’t just appear in the
afterlife. It had been there all along. It had been created when the rich man
hired Lazarus to be his servant. You see, the rich man was a man who wanted
others to know that he was rich. He wore purple fabrics every day to show those
in the community that he could afford to own clothing made from rare dyes. He
had fancy banquets held on a daily basis so that those around him knew that he
could afford fine foods. In other words, the rich man wanted others to know,
without a doubt, that he was better than them, that if he wanted something, it
would be his.
When
he hired Lazarus, the rich man made it clear from the get go that he would never
hold Lazarus in high esteem because he was part of the hired help. After all,
Lazarus needed a job at the time that the rich man was hiring, and therefore,
Lazarus wasn’t rich, he couldn’t afford the purple clothes and fine foods that
the rich man could. So why would the rich man want to bother with him other
than as a member of his staff.
When
Lazarus became ill and began developing sores, he was fired by the rich man.
After all, the rich man could not be seen with a leper on staff. Lazarus had no
home, no family to speak of, and no money to pay for medical attention, and no
energy left to move when the other servants laid Lazarus outside the gate of
the rich man, whispering ‘we are so sorry,’ but knowing that if they did more
than that, they, too would be out of work and on the street. To the rich man,
Lazarus meant nothing. Was worth nothing. And each day that the rich man passed
by Lazarus as he exited and entered his home, the chasm grew wider until it
became fixed when Lazarus and then the rich man, died.
One
of the interesting things about parables is that they give us glimpses of the
kingdom of God and of God’s own self, a God who is constantly surprising and
often shocking in the way that God shows compassion and concern even, and
especially for those whom we would rather not show compassion or concern for
ourselves. If you go back to the time in which Luke’s version of the story of
Jesus was written, there were no chapters and verses like we have in our bibles
today. Those were added in about 300 years later to make it easier for monks to
copy manuscripts of the bible. So what we have in the non chapter and versed
version, the original version, are three stories in a row about people and
relationships, relationships with each other and relationships with money.
Having
an intimate relationship with money, we learn from the parables, often creates
a strained relationship with the people around us. And I am not talking about
taking care of your money and making sure you are making good sound investments
with your money, or using your money as a tool to support yourself and your
family, and it is worth noting that Jesus doesn’t scold folks for having
wealth…what he does do, however, is to challenge us so that our relationship
with our money and our possessions doesn’t get to the point that the things and
the financial resources that we have begin to possess us and take the place of
the relationships that we have with other people. As Paul wrote in our second
reading this morning, “the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil.”
The
rich man had a love of money, a love of purple fabrics, and fine foods, and he
wanted everyone to know it. It was that love of money which was at the root of
the chasm between him and Lazarus, a chasm which grew larger and larger and was
maintained even in the afterlife, where the rich man still viewed Lazarus as
lower than him.
I
realize that I am starting to sound like a broken record, but there are some
pretty large chasms in our world and, particularly in this country. And not all
of them have to do with money. But all of them do have to do with how we see
each other.
Chasms
between those on the political left and those on the political right.
Chasms
between the very rich and the very poor.
Chasms
between citizens and immigrants and refugees.
Chasms
between white supremacists and people of color.
Chasms
between the African American community and police.
The
list goes on. And it is troubling.
A
week and a half ago, a group of white supremacists showed up at Bethany College
in Lindsborg, KS, an ELCA Lutheran college, and made threats against the
students of color that attended Bethany, and against the adopted children of
the president of Bethany, rallying under the banner “Make Lindsborg white
again.” A few days later, Terence Crutcher was shot and killed by a police
officer after his car broke down in North Tulsa. A few days after that Keith
Scott was shot and killed in Charlotte. A few days after that, the KKK showed
up on the campus of Eastern Michigan University with their hate filled
graffiti. In the midst of all this, one of the best police officers that the
city of Detroit has employed in recent history, died as a result of the
complication of gunshot wound that he received while on duty. Captain Steil and
his co-workers in the 9th precinct of the city of Detroit were
responsible for the dramatic decrease in gun violence in that community and he
was well respected by his fellow officers as well as the people who he served.
We
have a problem, friends, we have a sin problem which is causing these chasms
between us. When unarmed and innocent black men die at the hands of police, we
have a problem.
When
police officers do not return home to their families because they have been
wounded or killed, we have a problem.
When
hate groups show up in our back yard or on the steps of our colleges, we have a
problem… and if we say nothing, we have an even bigger problem.
Our
problem is that fear has become so woven into our ways of thinking that we
don’t see each other fully any more. I think that is a major part of our sin
problem. Fear. As the wise Yoda once said “fear turns to anger, anger turns to
hate, hate leads to suffering.”
But
it doesn’t have to be this way, my beloved friends.
Because
the other great thing about parables is that the ones with not so great endings
are the ones that give us the power to change the ending. Because as much as
parables give us glimpses into the kingdom of God, they help us to realize that
the kingdom of God is not just present in the next life, but it is present
here, and now.
So
we take on the role of the rich man’s brothers. For, unlike the rich man, we
can change how this ends. We can choose to listen to Moses and the prophets who
warn us about trampling the poor and worrying more about our bed sheets than we
do the suffering of others. We can choose to listen to the laws which give
clear instructions that gleanings of the harvest are to be left for the poor
(Lev 23:22), and proverbs that say that if we mistreat the poor, we insult the
creator (prov 14:31). We can choose to listen to the one who told us to love
our enemies and pray for those who persecute us, to said lepers’ lives matter,
Samaritan lives matter, children’s lives matter,
who
forgave the ones who nailed him to a cross, both literally and figuratively,
and
who died and was raised from the dead so that we could get a chance to make
things right,
to
see each other more fully,
to
do what we can to close the chasms between us, so that we can love each other the
way that Jesus loved us and, in doing so, we can help bring justice and peace
to all the earth.