Texts: Luke16:19-31, 1 Timothy 6:6-19
Lectionary:
Proper 21(C)
Introduction
This last
August when we traveled to Portland, we rented a car. The car happened to be a
Kia Soul. And for some reason we kept seeing others of this car model driving
around a lot more than we normally notice. One afternoon we were parked at a
coffee shop. Upon coming out later we noticed that there was another Kia Soul
parked right next to us. Just moments after we came out, a woman came out of
the store and quickly walked over to the other Soul, opened the door, rummaged
around, and showed us a laminated sign that read, “Soulmate!” It took us a few
moments, but we realized that the sign was meant to convey a common bond with
other Kia Soul owners and drivers.
It’s common
for new car owners to suddenly start seeing more of the car model driving
around that match what they now drive. The same might be also true for clothing
and accessories, pets, and other lifestyle elements that are externally
visible.
Speaking of
pets, since both Elise and I are cat people, if we’re traveling and encounter a
cat we are immediately drawn to it, and if the cat happens to be sociable, then
we might end up spending quite a bit of time with it. I recently saw a meme on
Facebook of a cat on cobblestones with the caption, “Spent a day in Paris. Took
32 photos. 29 were of this cat.”
“Don’t think
about pink elephants for the rest of the day.” Are you thinking about pink
elephants? Don’t. There are no pink elephants here, or anywhere. Pink elephants
are fictional. Stop thinking about them. Can you now?
Similarly to
how our brains can fixate on familiar things or on thoughts that are repeated,
our brains can also learn to ignore things that might be uncomfortable and
inconvenient. That is not always a negative function, because it may be a way
that the brain works to protect us, and it can be a coping mechanism that
allows us to function. But sometimes, it may not be so good and may even be
bad.
Blind Spots
Again, going
back to our travels to Portland this past year, it is impossible to ignore the
homeless and their encampments that dot the cityscape. Or in the suburbs, there
are people at freeway on and off ramps asking for money. We learn to walk past
and around them, drive past them, ignore them. We see them, but they don’t
really exist to us. Is that good or bad? We don’t know them. They are nameless.
Just someone who probably has fallen on hard times, but who knows for certain?
We tell ourselves that there are too many for us to start helping, and that a
handout might just be used for something other than food. Or we might even think
that some of them are actually frauds.
But how
about here at home, in Petersburg? We know that there are homeless and those
whose housing situation is precarious. We know that there are those who
struggle to feed themselves and any family they might have.
Do we see
them? Do we know them?
Based on several
different conversations around this topic that I’ve participated in over the
years, as a generalization, we would rather not acknowledge that there are
those in this town that are homeless and struggling to meet their basic needs.
We want to believe that this town only contains those attributes that are
culturally and socially acceptable as belonging to a good, hard-working,
American small town.
Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus
At first
glance, today’s reading and the Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus might not
seem to offer much to say to us. The rich man is so obscenely rich and
narcissistic that although a few, current, prominent individuals might come to
mind that fit the description, none of us here can come close to identifying
with the rich man.
Neither can
we really identify with Lazarus. Lazarus is so destitute, sick, and hungry that
he longs for even just some crumbs. He is physically immobile (the text uses a
verb that implies he is carried to the rich man’s gate). He is relying solely
on the generosity of the community around him. Of all the members of the
community, the rich man should be the best chance to receive meaningful help.
Thus, we end
up staring at this strange parable about a reversal of fortunes and a strange
underworld. We might be troubled that although the rich man, through his lack
of compassion, might deserve Hades, Lazarus is not seen as righteous. Lazarus
is just poor and sick. Why is Lazarus “saved”? And what about “Father Abraham”?
Is he a kind of “St. Peter at the pearly gates” figure in Judaic stories, one
that can grant entry and transport into and between metaphysical places?
Expected Elements of the Parable
First, this
parable follows a form that was already well established.[1],[2]
Jesus’ hearers would have expected this development of two characters and a
reversal.
Second, as
is the case throughout in Luke, rich people and wealth are thought of negatively.
While some Christian interpretations traditionally taught that Jews believed
the rich were blessed by God and the poor somehow deserved to be poor, that was
not and is not the case. Dr. Amy-Jill Levine, a Jewish scholar of the New
Testament, describes a number of ways in which Christianity has misinterpreted
the parable and in regards to wealth and poverty writes:
On both popular and scholarly levels, we find other, more
pernicious readings. Over and over again we are told, “At the time of Christ,
impoverished beggars were regarded as sinners being punished for their sins,”
and, “Judaism of that period would likely conclude that the miserable condition
of Lazarus was the result of God’s punishment for sin, and wealth, such as
enjoyed by the rich man, indicated God’s blessings.”[3]
… Anytime a parable begins, “There was a rich man who…,” we
know that the rich man is a poor role model. The scriptures of Israel, Jewish
literature of the Second Temple period, rabbinic sources, and numerous quotes
attributed to Jesus of Nazareth all agree that wealth is a snare, that the rich
should but usually do not care for the poor, and that God has a special concern
for the disadvantaged.[4]
This is an
important corrective for us to take to heart when we read about riches and
wealth in the New Testament.
Third, the depiction
of the afterlife and Father Abraham present in it and the ability for both
sides to see one another also reflect ideas of that time, so there is nothing
about this that would have surprised Jesus’ audience.[5]
A fourth
point that may raise questions in our (Christian) minds is that where a person
ends up in the afterlife appears to be based on their actions and place in this
life. But that is a Christian concern (and whether one is Calvinist or
Wesleyan/Arminian or predates both might have an influence on how one sees the
relationship between what seems like “works” and the respective destinations as
told in this parable). For the original hearers/readers and Jesus, the speaker,
the idea that one’s behavior in this life would affect the afterlife would have
been unsurprising.[6]
These broad
strokes contain nothing that would have been heard as unusual. So, it must be
in the details where we might find one or more of Jesus’ intents in telling his
version of the “reversal of fortune in afterlife” parable.
Lesson of Community and Responsibility
There are
many lessons that could be drawn from this parable, but I would like to focus
on one: the context of community that informs how we might understand
relationships.
The rich man
was aware of not only the presence of Lazarus, but as he spoke to Father
Abraham from across the chasm, he knew Lazarus. He asked for Lazarus by name.
This was not simply a case of the rich man failing to notice one particular destitute
and sick individual in front of his gate, but he knew exactly which one and by
implication we are to understand that the rich man intentionally ignored caring
for Lazarus.
By the
mention that Lazarus was laid at the gate, we are to also understand that the
rich man was a patron or a “father” to the community, that he had communal
responsibilities that were expected from someone of his position and wealth. The
Torah commands that those who are able take care of the less fortunate within
their community:
7
“If there is among you anyone in need, a member of your community in any of
your towns within the land that the LORD your God is giving you, do not be
hard-hearted or tight-fisted toward your needy neighbor… 10 Give
liberally and be ungrudging when you do so, for on this account the LORD your
God will bless you in all your work and in all that you undertake. 11
Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore
command you, ‘Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land.’ (Deuteronomy
15:7, 10-11 NRSVue)
The reading
from 1 Timothy echoes Deuteronomy:
17 As for those who in the present age are rich, command them not to be
haughty or to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches but rather on God,
who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. 18 They
are to do good, to be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share, 19
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. (1 Timothy
6:17-19 NRSVue)
The rich man
never belonged to the community. He didn’t want to be a part of the “ordinary
folk” outside the gates. So, he dressed like a royalty and feasted like it was
a high holy day every single day. He thought himself better than everyone else.
He had walls and a gate to keep everyone else out.
When he
finds himself in Hades, we see that he has learned nothing from this turn of
events. He still will not address Lazarus directly. He expects Lazarus to be
his servant. He may “ask mercy” from Father Abraham, but he still expects
everyone, including Abraham to acquiesce and fulfill his demands. When he entreats
Abraham to send Lazarus to his five brothers, it is not because he has finally
figured out what landed him in Hades. Rather, he just wants to save his brother
from landing in the same place. There is no recognition that the lack of
concern and concrete ways of caring for the community is the primary issue.[7]
What “Love” Means in the Bible
Before I get
to the wrap-up portion of this sermon in which I will try to bring what we’ve
discussed all together, there is one other related idea that I think will be
helpful. I was listening to a podcast this week and Pete Enns, the podcaster,
related the concept that the word “love” in the Hebrew scriptural context is
covenant and treaty language.
… Love is a treaty word in the Hebrew Bible that refers to
total devotion, not really [sic about] warm, fuzzy feelings. So to love
the Lord with all your heart, in the Hebrew Bible, is treaty language, it’s
covenant language, it means to be utterly obedient to Yahweh no matter what.
And I know that sort of takes the buzz out of some worship songs, but there you
have it. Love is a contractual, almost technical piece of vocabulary not only
in the Bible, but even outside of the Bible. So to love God really just means
to be obedient.[8]
When Jesus talks
about “love”, this is what he probably meant and what we should understand. The
introductory narrative to the parable of the Good Samaritan reads as follows:
25 An expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what
must I do to inherit eternal life?” 26 He said to him, “What is
written in the law? What do you read there?” 27 He answered, “You
shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and
with all your strength and with all your mind and your neighbor as yourself.” 28
And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will
live.” (Luke 10:25-28 NRSVue)
Reading
“love” as obedience and loyalty gives this text a new twist, doesn’t it? As mentioned
a few minutes ago, for the Jews it was assumed that loyalty and obedience to
God were the necessary human responses to being saved. To do or not do anything
else was to place oneself outside the community of the saved and of life
itself. It could be said this way: all are saved by God’s grace, but because some
refuse to join and participate in the community of life, to accept the
responsibilities of that life, as a result they receive the natural
consequences of their choice.
The failure
of the rich man in today’s parable was that he did not love the neighbor as he
did himself, and by failing to do so, he failed to be loyal and obedient to God,
and as a result placed himself outside the boundaries of life. The rich man,
through the wealth that was given to him, could have been a source of life to
Lazarus. But because he chose not to, he forfeited life for himself.
So How Are We to Live?
As a
community of faith that desires to follow Jesus, do we see our community? Do we
really see what is happening in Petersburg? It is easy to get wrapped up in our
work, our families, and our routines that we stop noticing. Or some issues
might seem so big that we would rather hope someone else tackles it.
What need
has God placed in front of your doorstep? Who might the Lazarus, sitting
outside our door, be for each of us? What might it mean to truly love – to be
loyal and life-giving to – our neighbor that has been laid in front of us?
I don’t for
a moment expect that any one of us alone will be able to change the entire
community. But individual efforts, collectively supported, could be that
mustard seed that is needed to effect change that improves life and the quality
of life for many who are in need. We do this not because we will gain points
with God, nor do we do it because it might somehow gain a church member. We
don’t do it for any ulterior motives. We do it because they are a part of our community,
because they are fellow human beings, and because God is a God of community.
[1]
Feasting on the Word: Year C, Volume 4. Kindle location approximately
4531. “The parable begins in a familiar formula of its time, borrowed from what
scholars think is an Egyptian tale.”
[2]
Levine, Amy-Jill. Short Stories by Jesus, p. 263. “Cautionary tales of
postmortem reversals of fortune are part of global storytelling.”
[3]
Levine, p. 249.
[4]
Levine, p. 251.
[5]
Levine, p. 264-265. “Folkloric though the parable may be, it speaks to early
Jewish views of the afterlife…”
[6]
Levine, p. 270. “The concern in Jewish scripture, broadly defined, is not what
we have, but what we do… The parables emphasis on the importance
of the Torah disturbs those readers who want to set up a law-versus-grace
dichotomy… or are worried about works-righteousness. But this commendation of
the Law and the Prophets would not have disturbed Jesus’ initial audience, and
it makes good sense on the lips of Jesus the rabbi.”
[7]
Levine, p. 268-269.
[8]
The Bible for Normal People, episode 218, “Pete Ruins Deuteronomy”.
Transcript text.
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