Sermon Title: "Chasms or Bridges? "
Date: September 26, 2010
Minister:  The Rev. Susan Bjork

Lesson:  Luke 16:19-31

 

Will you join me in prayer?

Gracious God, give us open hearts and open minds to receive challenging lessons, knowing that by your grace your liberating Spirit is at work in our individual and collective lives.  I pray that the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable in your sight.  Amen.

Well friends, this is quite a parable we have on our hands this morning, isn’t it?  This is probably one of the more dramatic and perhaps shocking stories that Jesus told when teaching.  And in many ways this story makes its point pretty clearly on its own, but I will try to flesh it out a bit.

In the context of Luke’s gospel, this parable comes after Jesus has already spent some time teaching his audience, including some Pharisees, about the dangers of loving the wealth of this world too much.  And I kind of wonder if the dramatic and harsh tone of this story was brought on by the feeling that they just weren’t getting it.  Perhaps Jesus felt he needed to ramp it up a bit to get their attention.

And so here we have a parable about two people, a very rich man and a very poor man. 

Interestingly enough, and foreshadowing the twist of fates that will later come, the poor man is the one given a name in our story, Lazarus (not to be confused with Lazarus of Bethany from John’s gospel who was raised from the dead), but here we have a poor man with a name that literally means “God helps.”

Just a side note: some traditions have given the rich man a name also, Dives (as you heard in the Chancel Choir’s anthem earlier), but this name is not in the biblical text itself and is actually the Latin word for “rich” that was ascribed to this character by someone along the way who read the Latin translation of the Bible and mistakenly thought that this word was a proper name.

So basically, taking this into account, here we have a story about a rich man who helps himself and a poor man who God helps.

Now arguably, this is a parable in which a drama, quite mythological in tone, unfolds in three acts, so let us unpack it together and see where it leads us.

Act One:

This is a parable of contrasts.  And this first act is a portrait of two people…one very wealthy, one destitute...one clothed in fine linen and the royal color purple denoting his social status, one clothed only in rags and open sores without cloth to bind his wounds…one who daily ate his fill of a sumptuous feast, one who had to beg for anything he ate and longed for even the scraps from the other man’s table…one who lived inside a house inside a gate, one who lived on the streets, outside of the gate…one who had plenty of opportunities to offer mercy and compassion and gave none, one who was in desperate need of mercy and received it only from the dogs (who were also seen as unclean outsiders, just as he was).

We may be tempted to rush on to the second act, but let us pause here for a moment, imagine this portrait that has been presented to us, and reflect upon the possibility that the great chasm that will soon divide these two people in death was already very present in this life. 

Act Two:

This is a parable of reversal.  Death comes to both of these people and with it a twist of fate. 

The poor man who never experienced mercy in this life is now shown the mercy of God, the comfort of the cool water, and the companionship of the great father of his faith, Abraham. 

The rich man who had everything he could ever want in this life now experiences anguish, isolation, and a great thirst for the mercy he never offered in his earthly life.  And so he pleads to Abraham for mercy, desperate for deliverance from his suffering.

His desperation is understandable, and yet, the rich man still doesn’t get it.  Even in death, even in agony, his only thought is of his own self gain.  He does not repent for his lack of mercy toward Lazarus and moreover he still sees Lazarus as a servant, someone to do his bidding…someone to bring him water to quench his thirst.

And in a way Abraham’s response just confirms what we may have already guessed…that it is now too late for the great chasm which isolates the rich man from Lazarus, Abraham, and God to be bridged.

Act Three:

This is a parable of warning.  The rich man is still not repentant and still wants Lazarus to do his bidding, but perhaps he has resigned himself to his fate and so he turns his attention to the living, his brothers.  So he begs Abraham to send Lazarus to appear to his brothers to warn them so they may escape his fate. 

It kind of sounds like he’s hoping that his brothers will have an epiphany like Ebenezer Scrooge, if only they are given the chance to be visited from beyond the grave.  But Jesus’ parable isn’t as generous as Dickens’ Christmas Carol.  And Abraham’s answer is simply this:  they’ve had their chance, just as you did.  If they haven’t listened to the many prophets who have already been sent then they will never listen, even if one were to be raised from the dead… (And yes, if you picked up on the foreshadowing of Jesus’ own death and resurrection; that is certainly present here in this statement).

But Abraham’s point is that the rich man’s brothers have already turned away many times and they too have helped dig the chasm of isolation from God ever deeper by their own lack of repentance and compassion. 

You see friends I think repentance and compassion is what this parable is all about.

This parable is not merely a condemnation of wealth in and of itself.  That is an oversimplified reading of this story which misses the point.

Instead, this parable serves as a warning against the use of wealth and privilege to oppress those who have neither wealth nor privilege.  And this parable issues a call to repentance for the injustice perpetrated by serving wealth rather than serving God.  Finally, this parable offers a statement of hope for the downtrodden which affirms that though the world may not see them for who they are, God does, and God longs for their liberation from suffering.

That message of liberation is, of course, what African-American slaves picked up on in creating a spiritual based on this story.

You see, the rich man’s sin was not that he was rich.  The rich man’s sin was the sin of indifference, of lack of concern, and of blindness to the suffering of his neighbor who was right outside his gate.

Separated by a table and a gate in this life, the rich man and Lazarus are now separated in death by a great chasm that cannot be crossed. 

But that makes me wonder if the great chasm could have been bridged, if only partially, in this life.

In many ways, the isolation and suffering the rich man endures in death is like that endured by Lazarus in life and yet, perhaps even the rich man experienced isolation in this life as well.  After all, in life the rich man was cut off from real connection and real compassion all along.  But it is only in death, without any “stuff” to distract him that true isolation is felt and the agony becomes unbearable.

You see, I don’t think that this parable is only a warning about personal judgment for an individual’s lack of repentance and indifference. 

I think Jesus may have also told this story because he was hoping that some who heard it might also be inspired to really change their behavior, collectively, not simply to avoid their own personal hell but to also avoid perpetuating further the hell-on-earth of others.

I think Jesus was hoping for some bridge-building, or what one commentator called “fundamental neighborliness.”  And this requires the recognition that our collective well-being and liberation from injustice are some of God’s greatest hopes for all creation.

Our bridge-building skills may be imperfect, but the fact of the matter is though we each can’t do it all, all of us can do something, especially with God’s help and the help of our other neighbors.

Now giving and serving are certainly important parts of bridge-building, but I think it goes deeper than that too and also involves listening, self-reflection, and a willingness to be moved and changed.  Bridge-building requires a certain level of fearlessness, vulnerability, and willingness to let go of power. 

And bridge-building may require that we practice neighborliness with those who are different from ourselves.  A little more neighborliness could very well counteract some of the racism, sexism, homophobia, religious intolerance, and yes, even poverty that plague our world.

Bridge-building is no small task.  We all know that.  And yet if we are to respond to Jesus’ warning against letting the chasms which divide us get out of control, then it is imperative to our collective salvation. 

And so we go forward, one step at a time, striving, with God’s help, to build bridges across the chasms that isolate us, doing our best to do what the rich man failed to do: binding up wounds…sharing the feast…opening the gate…and at the most fundamental level, practicing neighborliness.  Amen.