We know that one
was rich, and one was poor. We know that the poor man’s name was Lazarus, but
we don’t know the name of the rich man.
And we know that
the rich man took pride in his wealth by dressing in purple and fine linen, and
that Lazarus sat at the gate of the rich man, hoping to satisfy his hunger from
the crumbs that fell from the rich man’s table, but he got nothing.
The story doesn’t
say much else about them.
It doesn’t say why
the Lazarus was poor.
It doesn’t say why
the rich man was rich.
Was it Lazarus’s
fault that he was poor? Was he lazy? Or was he poor for some other reason?
Maybe he was crippled. Maybe he was old with no one to care for him. Maybe he
was a victim of an unjust economic system… We just don’t know.
And how did the
rich man become rich? Was it by honest hard work? Did he inherit his wealth?
Did he achieve wealth by cheating and stealing from others?
We just don’t
know.
This parable
doesn’t give us much information about these two men. If we want to know more,
we need to look outside this story.
Jesus told this
story to his disciples, and Jesus and his disciples were well-acquainted with a
whole tradition of religious teaching that speaks directly to this particular
story.
To start with,
there’s the Torah, the stories and teachings of Moses, which taught that the
rich should help the poor. The Torah commanded that debts be forgiven, so that
the gap between the rich and the poor could be kept from growing too large. The
Torah commanded that, at harvest time, some of the crop be left behind so the
poor could go out and gather it. The Torah commanded that those who had wealth
should help the most vulnerable in society: widows and orphans, those who had
no one else to care for them.
According to the
Torah, the rich were expected to help the poor.
Prophets like Amos,
who pronounced doom on those who would neglect to help the poor, those who would
sell even the sweepings, the last bit of the harvest that was to be left for
the poor [8.6]. Amos also said: “Alas for those who lie on beds of ivory, and
lounge on their couches, and eat lambs from the flock, and calves from the
stall, and drink wine, but are not grieved over the ruin that has come to the
people, the poor, the masses who have been left with so little [6.4-6].
If you want to
know what the prophets were like, just watch the video of Senator Elizabeth
Warren grilling Wells Fargo CEO John Stumpf, calling him to task for cheating
the poor while he raked in millions.
Jesus, of course,
knew what the Torah – and the prophets – commanded. The disciples, to whom
Jesus told this parable, also knew. They knew what was expected: that the rich
were to help the poor.
In case they
weren’t, Luke has already described in his gospel how the poor have a special
place in God’s heart. In chapter one, Luke presents Mary’s song, the
Magnificat, in which she says, “God has filled the hungry with good things, and
sent the rich away empty.” In chapter four, Jesus begins his ministry with the
words, “I have been anointed to bring good news to the poor.” In chapter six,
Luke includes the phrase, “Blessed are the poor.” Matthew’s gospel says
“blessed are the poor in spirit,” but Luke just says “blessed are the poor.”
All of this is –
or at least should be – in the back of our minds as we read today the story of
the rich man and the poor man. This story does not exist in a vacuum. The
entire biblical witness, from the law of Moses, to the writings of the
prophets, to Luke’s own words, already casts judgment upon him.
Because after all,
there was a poor man – Lazarus – sitting
at his gate, hungry, who he ignored. He didn’t even notice poor Lazarus. Or at
least, he tried very hard not to notice him.
So when both men
die, and Lazarus goes to heaven, and the rich man goes to that other place, we
aren’t surprised.
A couple of
interesting things here. First, the rich man knows Lazarus’s name. At some
point, he had learned Lazarus’s name; which means he knew Lazarus was there,
sitting at his gate, and still he did nothing.
Also: the rich man
still thinks he is above Lazarus. He thinks poor Lazarus should be serving him
by comforting him in his time of suffering – even though the rich man did
nothing to help Lazarus in his time
of suffering. And then he thinks Lazarus could be sent back to warn his family,
as if, even after death, Lazarus was his slave.
He’s still so
arrogant, so full of himself.
The prophet Micah
says “walk humbly with God” [6.8], but the rich man is not willing to humble
himself. Even in death, in torment, the rich man is too proud to humble
himself. “I can’t deliver the
message, but send Lazarus.”
Abraham replies:
“Look: they have the writings of the Torah, they have the prophets; maybe they
should stop ignoring what they’ve already been taught! The message can’t be
made any clearer. Not even if someone who has died comes to them.”
Economically
speaking, we are all somewhere in between the rich man, and poor Lazarus. None
of us is as ostentatiously rich as the rich man. None of us is as destitute as
Lazarus, who didn’t even have any crumbs to eat.
But all of us know
in our hearts what is required of us. We’ve heard the teachings of the Torah,
the prophets, and Jesus. We know that we are called to share what we have. We
know that we are called to walk humbly.
When I first moved
to Long Beach, and started using my bike as transportation, I was embarrassed.
It was humbling, in a way. And sometimes I wouldn’t ride my bike, simply
because I was too proud. On those occasions I would drive my ten year-old car
with missing hubcaps instead.
Like that makes a lot
of sense, right?
Now, in case you
don’t know, I need to humble myself again. And it’s not easy. My family is out
of money, so I can either find a church to pastor that can pay more, or find a
second job here in Long Beach so that I can remain in this place that I love so
much. But what other job can I find? I have a master’s degree in theology! But
if I want to stay here with you, in the church I love, in the community I love,
I have to humble myself.
Is this what the
apostle Paul felt like when he made and mended tents in order to support his ministry? Paul’s background was a
Pharisee, a very reputable, highly respected position. Was it normal for an
important person like that to be stitching tents together? I don’t know.
So I wonder how
Maria Koroleva, an Olympic synchronized swimmer, feels as she earns $9/hour working
at Dick’s Sporting Goods. Or boxer Nico Hernandez – who earned a bronze medal
in Rio – who works with his dad as a lube technician at a trucking company. Not
all Olympians get million dollar sponsorships. Most have to humble themselves
and work hard to support their dreams.
Are we willing to
humble ourselves to support our dream?
Look. Bixby Knolls
Christian Church is a small congregation … with a big heart. I don’t know of
many other churches who understand the gospel as well as you all do, or who are
as willing to wrestle with difficult theological questions as well as you all
are.
But our finances
cannot support our current way of doing ministry.
This is no secret
to those of you who have been attending our board meetings.
Now, maybe we as a
congregation can just die… and then try to send a message from beyond the dead
to other congregations in the hopes that they will do what they need to do to
survive.
Or, maybe we can
humble ourselves, and recognize that several things need to happen if our
ministry is going to continue.
One is that we
need to humble ourselves as a church, and accept the fact that some big changes
are necessary. Change is going to happen, but remember the dishonest manager
from last week’s sermon: he made
change happen, rather than letting
change happen to him.
In fact, once we decide
to be proactive, and consider how we might change, we realize that a whole host
of wonderful options are open to us, options that will allow our ministry to
grow and thrive for years to come. If
we humble ourselves, we will be exalted. That’s how it works for people of
faith.
The second thing
that needs to happen is that we need to humble ourselves as individuals, and
contemplate what sacrifices we need to make in our own lives, so that we can
support our dream, our passion, and our calling here at Bixby Knolls Christian
Church, at this significant moment.
They are also
present in our community; and they arrive each day in our houses, on the pages
of the newspaper and TV screens. And it is through the ministry of this church
that we learn to see them, recognize them, learn their names, and work to ease
their suffering.
If I understand
scripture right, it is they who will be interceding and advocating for us on
the other side. Interpret that as you wish, metaphorically or literally, it
doesn’t matter. When the goats and the sheep are separated, it will be how we
used our money and our lives to help the “least of these” that will matter
most.
The chasm that
exists between us and them in this life will also exist in the next life, only
in reverse.
Through the
ministry of this church, we are closing that chasm, closing that gap. At this
moment in our history, we have the opportunity to look at how we can do that
even more effectively in the future.
If we set aside
our own pride, I have no doubt that we will keep closing that gap, in even
greater ways. The importance of the message we proclaim and the work we do in
the community cannot be overstated.
Change is coming,
but with your commitment, we will find a way to grow in ministry. The poor who
sit at our gate are depending on us.
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