Luke
16:19-31
It’s been said that the nature of the
gospel is to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. And today I’m
feeling afflicted - afflicted because the parable that Jesus tells in the
gospel of Luke is hard to listen to. It’s about a rich man whose wealth and
privilege enables him to luxuriate in all the comforts of this life while just
on the other side of his gate a poor man, named Lazarus, languishes. In time,
Jesus explains, both men die and in the afterlife their roles are completely
reversed. The rich man ends up in a place of torment: Lazarus in the tender
comforts of Abraham.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m really happy
for Lazarus. But the reason I find this story so afflicting is because my
relatively comfortable life makes me to identify more with the rich man than
with someone lying in the street hungry and covered with sores. And what adds
to my distress is that Jesus doesn’t portray the rich man as a particularly bad
guy. If he did then I could at least try to put some distance between him and
me. But no, there’s no mention that he’s mean or arrogant or that his money is
ill-gotten. What seems to be going on here is that the man’s wealth and
privilege has gently lulled him into a state of insensitivity. A state where
he’s able to live his life to the fullest all the while turning a blind eye to
the suffering right outside his gate. And because of that things do not turn
out well for him in the end.
Which makes me wonder, I’m going to hell?
And will some of you be joining me there? Now I’m being a bit tongue in cheek
here because, thank God, the entirety of the gospel, the Good News of God’s
amazing love and forgiveness, mercy and grace, is a bigger message than one
parable can possibly hold. Yet this story should not be ignored or dismissed.
Jesus told it because we need to hear it. And what we need to hear is that what
we do in this world matters. It especially matters when it comes to how we live
in relationship with those who are suffering - the poor, the hungry, the
powerless. You know, Scripture is clear, God has a special love and concern for
folks like that. That’s the gospel news about “comforting the afflicted.” But
there’s something else that also runs throughout Scripture, a rebuke directed
toward the wealthy, the privileged, those with power and resources - a rebuke
towards those who live well while others suffer. That’s the part about
“afflicting the comfortable.”
For just like the rich man in the story
today, our relative wealth and privilege, whether we intend it to or not,
creates barriers and gates which distance us from those who are poor, hungry,
powerless. More often than not we don’t move in the same circles, we don’t live
in the same neighborhoods, we don’t worship in the same church. And that
separation, that distance that exists between different groups of people,
whether in the world of the parable or in the reality of our lives, helps to
perpetuate drastic inequalities where some thrive as many others wither. This
is not right. It is not ok. The parable sends this message loud and clear - but
there’s more there’s also an invitation to live another way. Moses and the
prophets pointed to this way. Jesus’ life embodied the way - the way of love.
For love at its most basic level is a
uniting force. It’s an energy of connection. When we love, and I don’t mean in
the romantic or sentimental way, but love with a quality of deep caring, we are
naturally drawn towards one another. Like with Lazarus. Did you know that for
all the parables that Jesus told this is the only one where someone is given a personal
name? And by giving him a name he becomes a person to us - not just part of the
anonymous mass of the poor and the need who are much easier to overlook, but
someone who is known, humanized. And when we are able to see someone as human,
as a beloved child of God, it has a way of cracking open the gate and giving
more space for love to flow.
Which makes me think about a comment a
friend made to me the other day. This friend is a faithful Christian identifies
as politically conservative. We were catching up on each other’s lives and she
was excited to share with me the news that one of her sons was marrying a
lovely young woman next month. A woman whose family was from Mexico. She
explained how her future daughter-in-law was an American citizen, but her
parents were not. They were living in the States illegally. She then paused for
a moment of reflection and said, “You know, the immigration issue looks a lot
different when you actually know someone.”
Isn’t that the truth. In a world full of
separation and division, what often makes the difference for us, what has the
potential to enlarge our hearts, is to actually know someone, to recognize
Christ, on the other side of our gate - whatever that gate may be. Gates often
divide, but they don’t have to. They can also mark a point of connection. Gates
can lead us from isolated, separated lives into the world of others. They can
become a portal through which we step to meet, to know, to love, to serve the
people that God cares about most, the children and grandchildren of Lazarus.
This is all possible because each one of
us knows what it’s like to be on the receiving end of that kind of grace. The
grace of God in Christ who enters into each one of our lives - opening every
gate, crossing every border, filling every chasm - so that we might be drawn
toward love, united in love, healed with love. And then to be called to love
with a love that know no bounds. With a love that draws us to each other. So
that no one is left afflicted and all are able to enjoy the tender comforts of
this world and the next.
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