Sermon: "A Great Chasm," September 29, 2019
The Rev. Ryan Slifka
Sixteenth Sunday After Pentecost
Sermon Series: “Jesus Uncensored: The Topsy-Turvy Teachings of Luke According to Jesus”
“‘There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. 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.” 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. 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.” He said, “Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father’s house— for I have five brothers—that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.” Abraham replied, “They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.” He said, “No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.” 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.” ’”
Today we continue with our sermon series “Jesus Uncensored” on the topsy-turvy teachings of Jesus according to Luke. We tend favour the Jesus we like. And that Jesus is the compassionate, inclusive and forgiving Jesus. But these passages show us another side to Jesus. A Jesus who is confusing at times, a Jesus who is disruptive. A Jesus who is challenging.
Today we move on to yet another parable. This time the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus. To call this parable challenging, though, might be an understatement.
Let me tell you a story about two men, Jesus says. Two men: One’s rich, the other one’s poor.
The rich man lives in a mansion, and wears the finest designer clothes. He feasts every single day. Think of him with a huge lobster bib on, stuffing his face and gulping down 100 year old scotch. And at the end of his driveway there’s this giant metal gate. To keep the riff-raff out.
On the other side of that gate, is the riff raff.
Illustration of Lazarus at the rich man's gate by Fyodor Bronnikov, 1886.
The poor man. A poor man named Lazarus. Who, as an aside is the only person ever named in one of Jesus’ parables. Lazarus means “God is my help,” which makes sense cuz this guy doesn’t get help from anyone else—God’s the only one left. The guy’s sick, covered in sores. He dives in the rich man’s dumpster just to keep alive. He’s so weak that he can’t even fight off the wild dogs who come to lick his wounds. His life is as miserable as it gets.
One day, it says, Lazarus’ misery finally comes to an end. He dies, it says. And he’s taken. He’s carried away, it says, to be with Abraham. Abraham being the Old Testament founder of Israel’s faith. Abraham being the paradigm of faith, of right-relationship with God, is right there at the head of the heavenly banquet. So here it’s telling us that Lazarus is taken into the joyful presence of God, a state of eternal bliss. One where his life of suffering has finally come to an end.
The rich man, though, isn’t so lucky. He dies, it says. He’s buried. And he wakes up in Hades. Hades being the Greek land of the dead. Where all souls go when they die. Where he lived in the lap of luxury, in death he exists in a state of perpetual, burning agony. And the worst part is that from Hades he can somehow see Abraham and Lazarus, hanging out, having a great time together. What a way to rub it in. He calls out to Abraham, begging him to send Lazarus to dip his finger in water to cool his tongue. The guy who wouldn’t be caught dead near scab-ridden Lazarus in life is suddenly willing to put the guy’s finger in his mouth. To get just a little relief from the heat.
Rich Man and Lazarus, tile artwork German convent 17th century.
But there will be no relief. “No can do,” Abraham says. “You got your good things in life, while Lazarus was on the receiving end of so much evil. It’s his turn to rest.” Besides, there’s a great chasm between where you are and where we are. Nobody can get over there from here, and nobody can get here from there.” Big gulf.
Lazarus whose stomach growled every day is now stuffed with divine delights. While the rich man who wanted for nothing in life, can’t even get a cool glass of water. Jesus himself says that the “first shall be last, and the last shall be first.” There’s no more perfect illustration.
That’s not the end of the rich man, though.
The rich man--being a rich man—isn’t used to taking no for an answer. “Then,” he says. “If Lazarus can’t come here, send him to my five brothers so they don’t end up like me.” Basically, Lazarus is saying that he had no idea that this is how things worked. If his brothers had the warning that he never got, maybe they could avoid the same fate.
But Abraham says they’ve already had a warning. “They have Moses and the prophets,” he says. “They should listen to them.” Abraham is, of course, referring to the Bible, the Old Testament. Especially the laws set out by Moses and the warnings of Israel’s prophets. All throughout the Old Testament God tells God’s people to care for the poor, the widow, orphan and stranger in their midst. Isaiah chapter 58, verses 6-7 put this pretty plainly.
“Is not this the fast that I choose:” God says, “to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin?”
At this point, it becomes very clear why the rich man ends up in Hades. He violated each part of God’s demands. It’s not what he did, though. It’s what he didn’t do. He did nothing to correct the injustices suffered by Lazarus. He ignored scripture’s demands to use the wealth he had to relieve his suffering. He shared no bread, shut him out of his house, and hid himself from the sufferings of this poor, wretched man whom he should have instead treated as kin. As his brother. While he sat holed up in his house enjoying every fine thing the world had to offer. And now he’s the one wasting away while Lazarus enjoys the high life. The impenetrable gate he set up to keep Lazarus out in life... now becomes an unbreachable chasm in death.
It's a disturbing parable for sure. But it’s pretty straightforward up to this point. A wealthy man enjoys a life of luxury while the poor man at the end of his driveway starves. Despite a whole history of prophets, and whole religious tradition that said he couldn’t do that and get away with it, he did it anyway. And now he’s getting his just desserts. The parable is a warning. It’s a threat. Don’t be like the rich man: or else.
Now if we read this parable in the same straightforward way about ourselves, we’ll probably have to come to the same conclusion. We may not be wealthy in comparison to our neighbours, or citizens of other industrialized countries. But most of us certainly have far more than most people on the planet. Most of us have more than enough. From a global perspective Canada alone wastes nearly nine-hundred pounds of food per person per year on average.[i] Nine-hundred pounds times thirty-five million people is a lot of food, considering that in our world eight-hundred million people a year go hungry.[ii] Lazarus continues to languish at our own gates in judgment. And the straightforward reading of this parable must also then be a warning to us. To change our ways. Or else.
That’s the straightforward reading. A warning, a threat. One thing I’m willing to bet, though, is that what I just said made very little difference to any of you. Some of you might have silently cheered, taking it as a nod towards social justice in the next federal election. Some of you might have felt guilty, knowing that you aren’t doing enough. And then it might have made some of you mad, “yep... he’s a United Church Minister alright.” You may have had different reactions, but you had one thing in common: none of you changed your minds about anything. Agree, disagree. You’re all the same.
What’s most interesting about this parable, I think. Is how this reaction is built right in. Remember how Abraham refuses to send Lazarus to talk some sense into the rich men’s brothers? His response is that they already have Moses and the Prophets. They’ve already been warned. But it makes no difference. And just after that, the rich man pushes again. “Please,” he says. “Send Lazarus. Surely if someone came from the other side to warn them, they’d change their ways.” I mean, it’s a perfectly reasonable suggestion. It’s exactly what happens in Charles Dickens’ Christmas Carol, where ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future come to warn Ebenezer Scrooge that if he doesn’t start throwing his money around along with a little kindness, he’s headed to same place as the rich man in this parable. But Abraham refuses even this tried and true method. “If they won’t listen to Moses and the Prophets,” he says. “If they won’t listen to Moses and the Prophets, neither will they listen to someone who comes back from the dead.” This, of course, is a winking reference to Jesus’ own future resurrection. Which would still leave plenty people doubting in its wake.
Abraham seems to know that threats, of any kind, whether delivered through scripture or supernatural experience, have a very low rate of success in changing anyone or anything. For a parable that’s all about hell, it seems to undermine the threat of hell for the purpose of human transformation. Doesn’t mean there isn’t a truth to Hades. But it does mean that whether prophet or poltergeist or Son of God. Threats just don’t work the kind of change we and our world really need.[iii]
What’s needed, ultimately, is a change of heart. A change from the inside-out. And that’s what this parable is getting at. Because, as I’ve said it before, this is the purpose of Jesus’ parables. To blow things open. To change the way we see ourselves and the world. To help us repent, which means to change our minds.
Homeless Jesus by sculptor Timothy Schmalz in the front of St. Francis Church, NY
This parable says that God himself, the Creator of the Universe, comes to us as Lazarus. Just as God comes to the rich man in the form of Lazarus in this parable, God comes to us in Jesus Christ, who lived as Lazarus. God himself comes to us in the form of the stranger at the gate who lives in poverty, dies in weakness, and who rises into glory. Every human being bears the image of God, it’s true. But this parable tells us that the one who comes to us as weak, as poor, suffering and in need bears the special image, the very presence of our Savior. And is worthy of our love on account of God’s love. Nothing more. Nothing less. And the promise is that if we’re able to see Christ in the Lazaruses of this world, then we’ll begin to love them the way he does, too. That’s the purpose of this parable. That’s how God saves us, that’s what will change us. Which something even the best fire and brimstone sermon (or parable) could never do.
So, friends, brothers and sisters. By all means... hear a threat, a warning in this parable if you like. Don’t get me wrong… the situation is dire. Wealth puts our souls in jeopardy by buffering us from the suffering of the world—it's true. But we all know the truth… that no warning or threat will actually change us. The good news is that by showing himself disguised in the least, the last, and the lost in this parable, Christ breaks down the gate that divides us. In his life, death and resurrection he bridges the chasm between the weak and strong in life and in death. May he continue to open our eyes to his presence, and awaken our hearts to his love. For the sake of a Lazarus world that suffers. And the sake of our salvation here and now.
AMEN.
[i] https://business.financialpost.com/commodities/agriculture/report-finds-canadians-waste-a-lot-of-food-calls-for-action-2
[ii] https://www.unicef.ca/en/press-release/global-hunger-continues-rise-new-un-report-says?ea.tracking.id=19DIAQ08OTE&19DIAQ02OTE=&gclid=CjwKCAjwibzsBRAMEiwA1pHZrmCIrbjuuTAyWtAiqCUnyAnut0RmHcy739JCyp5yLNJH7RLbO9QXVxoCBiEQAvD_BwE
[iii] I owe this insight to Frank G. Honeycutt, Preaching for Adult Conversion and Commitment: An Invitation to a Life Transformed (Nashville: Abindgon, 2003), 150-153.