Luke 16:19-31 19"There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. 20 And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, 21 who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man's table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. 22 The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. 23 In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. 24 He called out, 'Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.' 25 But Abraham said, 'Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. 26 Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.' 27 He said, 'Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father's house-- 28 for I have five brothers-- that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.' 29 Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.' 30 He said, 'No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.' 31 He said to him, 'If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.'"What do you think? What images stick out for you? Is this parable about money, do you think, or something else? Click below to read the sermon . . .
Grace to you and peace from God our father and the Lord Jesus Christ, Amen.
Some of my fondest memories of childhood are of being a little girl and cuddling on my mom's lap. Maybe it started as storytime. She used to read to me and tell me stories, but then as I grew we also used that time for conversation, for advice, recounting my day's stresses, and motherly warnings. As I sat there and she ran her fingers through my hair or I rested my head on her shoulder, I trusted her advice. I would sit with her even when I was angry, stressed, or sad, even when I thought I didn't want to talk to her at all – in fact, those were often the best conversations. Even if it wasn't what I wanted to hear or maybe even included a harsh warning, because of their context, those were loving moments.
There were many moments, some teenage, when the relationship didn't look like that, but I hope you know what I mean about the sense of trust. Perhaps for you it's a friend, family member, someone – who listens to you, and gives you honest advice, even that would otherwise sound harsh. A really trusted friend – the one to whom you can say – no, tell me the truth, I want your honest opinion, and really mean it. I hope everyone has a friend like that, someone who you trust to want the best for you, and give you good advice. In that context hard words can be heard fully but do not sting, because they are cased in a relationship that gives a sense of trust.
So again this week in the gospel we read harsh words. Did you notice though, that Jesus isn't in the story? It's not a story about God. It's not a literal depiction of the afterlife – it's not meant to be. There are several aspects, incongruent words and rough edges of the story that remind us that this is – a story. You notice Jesus doesn't use “I” in the story, he isn't found in the afterlife, nor is God, and Jesus isn't an actor in this little parable. . .
So where is Jesus? Jesus is the storyteller. Jesus is the one who calls us, even feeling like fussy Pharisees, kicking and screaming, Jesus takes us into his arms and tells us a story. Jesus knows the world is where our stresses are real and not sugar-coated, and so we have a story not sugar-coated at all. Like a parent Jesus knows that real skills and tools for life and relationship are needed, and so tells a story to teach us something.
Sometimes I would run to sit with my mom when I was angry – or hurt, or felt like I'd been wronged. This often had to do with my little brother, especially when I was younger. I would get so angry I would run to my mom and sputter out how I hated him, how I would never let him touch my toys again. My mom would often remind me at the end of our chats, he's your brother. He's the only one you've got. He'll always be your brother, no matter what.
Jesus is reminding us, as he does so often, that it is a sin when we build walls in between our relationships and ignore the bonds between us. Money itself isn't the sin. Having money doesn't make you a bad person. But money can be the medium through which we build a wall between ourselves and others, to separate ourselves. Jesus tells us this story so that we realize that it is sin when we put blinders up around us so that we do not see those sidelined by society. Jesus tells us this story to say – that one, even the least, the last, the forgotten, he's your brother, she's your sister, no matter what.
The core of this story lies in that after dying and being tormented, the rich man calls out to “Father Abraham.” Just about the only thing the rich man gets right in this conversation is that he can cry out to Abraham. No matter what sin, just the same we can cry out to God, and like Abraham in the story, God will always answer. The rich man gets some other things wrong – he asks for mercy, but not forgiveness, he asks for water, but not for life in relationship. Even while he has no ground to stand on, no bargaining chip, he orders Lazarus around. I find this interesting not because of how clearly ridiculous the request is, but because he forgets the relationship that exists. The rich man forgets that this isn't just some random person, but there is a relationship there – he has unwittingly mentioned it – they share a common father – Abraham – so that makes Lazarus not just someone who deserves pity or justice, but his brother.
In our own families, we know how important relationships are. We also know how fragile they are, and no family is perfect because no person is perfect. We know how sin can block the basic point that you are in fact, related, no matter what. Right relationship, restoration of one person to another, is one of God's deepest desires. It starts with the relationship God has always had with you – as father, loving parent, mother who wraps you up in her arms and sits with you, and reminds you, even now and then with a witty turn of fire and brimstone - God opens our eyes with harsh words but in the context of loving arms – to remember – this is your brother – this is your sister. That one waiting outside for the community meal or asking passers-by for change, is your sister, and that one who is spending weekly more money than you will ever make and buying multiple homes and lavish feasts, that's your brother.
When we say our creed, we confess not just history, but relationship, the story of our family. We confess and recognize that we are children of the father, our God the God of Israel, brother and sister of Christ who died for us making this relationship possible and giving us words to pray. And we confess by and in the grace of the Holy Spirit. This family relationship is one that we unwittingly confess every time we run to God our parent with our cares, pray, or every time you read, question, or say God's words in scripture. You know you are God's child. Because of this, daily God calls you to think about not just – who is my neighbor or some simple turning of the golden rule, but who is my family. We are family here where we speak these words of faith, but we are also called to be family to those outside our walls, literal and figurative. One way this hits me is with the use of the term Abrahamic faiths, describing Christian, Jews, and Muslims who all confess Abraham as an ancestor. It's all one family, with this common part of the story of faith, and yet sometimes like the rich man, we forget who our siblings are.
This story shakes me up because there is no happy ending – or really much of an ending at all. Maybe something else happens with the rich man or he does come to figure out and confess the relationships that are the truth of his life. Maybe not. The abrupt ending of this story reminds us that it does not and should not stand alone. Context matters. Jesus reminds us that this is not the whole story, or even meant to the only definite image of it. The whole story of who we are is not just one isolated thing – rich therefore condemned, poor therefore uplifted. This story is just one piece of the whole story of God's loving interaction. Our whole story from creation to Moses, to the prophets, to Jesus himself, to right now. This story seems disturbing because it seems so harshly moralistic and does not end with a nice little bow, it doesn't really end at all, reminding us to wake up, take ourselves out of the story, and see the context. The context is that this story comes from the lips of Jesus, the one you know well, the one you trust to tell you the truth, who went to the cross for you, the mirror of the father's heart. Jesus who right now holds you in his arms and tells you this story and through it, teaches you to love your brothers and sisters. God gives us the people around us as a gift, not to be ignored, as a foretaste of the father's love through these brothers and sisters. Rest your head there, listen to the story. Jesus teaches us to love our siblings as the father loves us, telling us the truth in love. Amen.
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