September 25, 2022

 This is one of those stories that is just as relevant today as it was when Jesus told it.  We are literally stepping over people on our way in and out of this building.  Lazarus is on our doorstep.

            Today Jesus introduces us to ourselves by way of a parable or a tricky story.  Because he says it is about someone else, we take it in without defenses and when we start to chew on it, we realize that we have already taken it in and it is already having an effect on us.

            There was a rich man who was dressed well and ate well.  In our culture we tend to have positive regard for rich people because of the myth we tell that the rich earned their way and are virtuous—they deserve what they have and if we are good too God will reward us with riches.  We may have some mixed feelings, though, too maybe some resentment thrown in or suspicion.  But actually dressing and eating well sounds pretty nice so maybe we feel some admiration.

            Now Jesus introduces the contrast.  Whereas the rich man is not named, we get a name here, Lazarus.  The original hearers would have noticed that Lazarus means “God is my help.”  The rich man in contrast is more “My riches are my help.”  So Lazarus is named which might make us feel closer to him and his name means that he is close to God which might make us feel for him.  But we also understand that he is poor and covered with sores.  We are repelled.  Now all our feelings of helplessness come in because we don’t know what to do for this guy.  We’re not sure we want to do for this guy.  How did he get here?  What was his crime, his mistake, his temptation that he didn’t resist?  What bridges did he burn to get to this point?  We are disturbed by this image and so we try to distance ourselves from this man by blaming him.  And we have even more feelings—guilt and fear that we don’t know what to do, or sternness that he needs tough love.  Some of us, though, know someone in this situation, a son or daughter, a brother or an uncle or a niece or a nephew, or even someone we’ve come to know through volunteering or having met this person in the neighborhood.  Even though we are still might feel helpless, our hearts are often softened when we love someone who is in such agony.  We have some mixed feelings even though these characters are so different.

            Even though there was such a contrast between these two characters, neither of them could escape death, so they both died.  So we move to this scene in the afterlife.  I think all of us wonder about people who seem to have nothing but defeat and struggle in this life and those who seem to have nothing but comfort in this life—maybe we like to imagine that they will get what is coming to them in the next.  But I don’t know anyone who  never came to that moment when they were in need.  So the story to me is less about what happens after we die than the idea that we all come to a point of need and also bringing in this idea of urgency—will it be too late to change.  It’s kind of the like the story of Ebenezer Scrooge that he’s in this late time in his life and when he sees the grave, he asks, “Is this what will be or what has already happened?”  Basically he’s asking if it’s too late to change his ways.  I don’t know if this story is about what really happens when we die or a device to get us to think about what is too late and what is the urgency for me to respond in love toward my neighbor.

            In death the characters have changed positions and now Lazarus is enjoying a new, rich, and abundant life and the rich man is in agony.  But it seems it is too late for the rich man because he’s still only thinking of himself and his comforts and he sees Lazarus still as a servant and not a brother.  The rich man calls on Abraham and calls him father.  However Abraham was very different in his life than this son.  Abraham was pretty rich in his life.  He had fields and flocks and was well established.  However, Abraham didn’t put his trust in all that so he differs from the rich man.  I don’t know if Abraham was humbled because his wife was barren or if he was humbled in his travels when he relied on strangers, but Abraham knew the value of hospitality and relationship.  Remember those three strangers come by and he welcomes them and kills the calf for a meal and tells Sarah to make some cakes.  If this rich man was a son of Abraham, he would act like his father in life and make room and hospitality for people in need.  For Abraham, it turned out he ended up entertaining God at his house, unbeknownst to him which started him on this whole journey of leaving his territory and relying on strangers for their hospitality and fathering a son and so on.  Abraham is very different from this comfortable rich man.

            The next thing the rich man says is to send Lazarus to dip his finger in water to cool his tongue.  Here is where we realize that even though this rich man has walked by Lazarus day after day, he knows his name.  He saw him, he knew he was there, he knew his name, and yet he walked on by.   He ignored Lazarus’s agony and now he knows how it feels.  This is a classic story of putting yourself in another person’s shoes.  You will know agony in your life, sooner or later, and how would you want people to treat you when you are hurting?  It’s the agony that is hard to look at and be present with.  Agony is tough.  But Jesus asks us to notice agony and to feel the compassion in our hearts and respond to agony.

            What we often tend to do is to build these chasms between us and agony.  We dig these chasms to insulate ourselves, comfort ourselves, hoping that we will be able to avoid agony.  We push others away from ourselves.  We make up stories for ourselves about why we deserve our good things and other people deserve their bad things and how we don’t deserve our bad things.  These chasms are completely human-built.  They divide us.  We have so many chasms—the chasm between the rich and poor growing bigger, the chasms between different political parties or philosophies, sometimes between religions, between rural and urban.  We put up chasms, barriers, to separate ourselves from others.  I think of the southern border—our ideas that “they aren’t like us.”  I think of language chasms—the way native peoples of this land were put in schools and not allowed to speak their language.  What about the chasms we dig between us and the rest of creation as if we can survive without all that God has made.

            Jesus talks about the chasm with the rich man.  It is a chasm the rich man spent a lot of resources building to keep out the agony and the people that made him uncomfortable that challenged his reliance on material possessions and riches.  This man built his chasm so well that it was too late.  He was still relying on his chasm to order Lazarus around and make him a servant.  But Lazarus was of value to God despite the world not ever seeing his value and Abraham is not going to allow him to be pushed around by someone who would never acknowledge him in life.

            Again the rich man tries to order Lazarus around to go to his brothers and warn them.  For us, this is our warning, our encouragement to listen to our hearts and to other people’s agony and to respond with compassion.

            Then Lazarus insists that if someone comes from the dead to warn them, they will listen.  But we know at least two rise from the dead.  The first is Lazarus the brother of Mary and Martha—Jesus raises him after three days.  That only enrages the scribes and Pharisees who become even more afraid of Jesus’ power the idea of sharing power especially with the poor and despised, the undeserving.  The other to rise from the dead is Jesus, of course, and we’re living the end of that story about what that means for us and how we regard the poor.

            One question for us is what is wealth for?  For the rich man, it was to insulate him and build chasms.  For Jesus it was to bridge chasms and to be in relationship especially with people who were pushed out, kept out, kept from abundant life.  Jesus knows the true riches, what really lasts and matters is love and relationship and asks us to live our lives taking risks to bridge those chasms with him and in doing so, we find ourselves “saved.”  We find connection.  We find something true and beautiful.  Our riches can give someone more life, health care, food, some relief from their agony.

            To bridge the chasms, we can ask someone’s name, look them in the eye, share a granola bar or a bottle of water.  We can volunteer, donate food and clothing and money.  We can advocate.  We can write to our representatives, our county commissioners and advocate for Lazarus.  We can say, “Yes in my backyard” when an affordable housing development or homeless shelter comes to our neighborhood.  We can work so that the voices of those who are ignored and pushed away are centered and amplified to advocate for themselves.  This is the Kingdom work that comes out of our compassion and how God builds a more just and peaceful world, life abundant for all God’s creation.

            I run 4 miles 3 times a week and one place I often run near my house usually has 2 or 3 tents of homeless living there.  Across the street is a large garage and from somewhere over there a Christian music station plays day and night very loudly.  I sometimes wonder if the owner there is trying to give Jesus to these homeless folks living across the way.  But this manner of evangelism ignores the agony of these neighbors.  To them, Jesus would be a loaf of bread, some medicine, a kind word, some compassion.  Jesus came as a poor, hungry person who experienced agony.  Every person we see in agony we can see Jesus there.  If we want to be close to him, we won’t build chasms, but we’ll be open to seeing that person and responding in love and grace.