“The Five Second Rule”
Sermon on Luke 16:19-31
Pentecost +18-C
September 30, 2007
Rev. J. Curtis Goforth, O.S.L.
“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.”
-Luke 16:19-21
It’s amazing what a difference five seconds can make. Have you ever heard of the “five second rule?” In some very questionable circles, it is expanded to the “ten second rule.” But I bet most of you know that when I mention the five second rule, it refers to eating a piece of food after it’s fallen on the floor, but only if it hasn’t been there for more than five (or ten) seconds. Most of you probably think that’s gross.
But one thing’s for sure—my 13 month old daughter Cora doesn’t care about the five second rule. If one of those little goldfish has somehow found its way under the edge of the sofa three weeks ago, Cora doesn’t care. I think she’s actually better at finding lost pieces of food that have fallen on the floor than our dog is—and he’s pretty good at finding food we never knew was there! We just changed Cora’s car seat to the next size up and her old car seat was lying on the floor by the front door. She started playing in it, and it wasn’t three seconds of not paying attention till we saw that she was eating a piece of graham cracker that was a good month old!
And she’s so sneaky about it. It’s almost like she knows that we are watching her and that she knows not to eat food that’s fallen on the floor or gotten lost in her car seat months ago, but she does it anyway. I’m the opposite. I mean, the five second rule is a fun thing to do, but only if my wife Jennifer or somebody else is watching. I honestly am kind of repulsed by eating food that’s fallen to the floor, but I do it anyway just to get Jennifer or some kid going.
You’ll never see somebody casually reach down and put that French fry in their mouth after it’s fallen on the floor. There’s no being sneaky about the five second rule. No, you draw attention to it by invoking the five second rule, and then to the absolute chagrin of whatever female is around you, you put that hairy French fry in your mouth and pretend that it actually tastes good. You have to love the five second rule. I can’t decide if it was invented by an elementary school boy or by a college student in a fraternity somewhere, but whoever it was that invented this rule was just brilliant—and they’re probably dead by now from ingesting a disease-ridden morsel of food that had fallen under the couch in a frat house decades ago.
Even though I occasionally eat food that’s fallen on the floor, I only do it as a joke or to win a dollar in a bet. But there are people in our community that would love to have the food we throw down or throw out—five second rule or not. The Bible is riddled with stories about the hungry, and hunger is no laughing matter. Our gospel lesson this morning tells us a story about hunger. Here we are given the story of a beggar who sat by the gates of a rich man’s house longing for the food that fell from his table. And in the only place in the New Testament, the beggar is referred to by name—Lazarus. It’s important to note that the poor man in the story is named. The poor have names other than the adjectives our world names them with. Though his name was Lazarus, this isn’t the same Lazarus that lived in Bethany whom Jesus brought back from the dead. Lazarus was a fairly common name, and unfortunately, hunger was a fairly common problem.
When Jesus tells us that Lazarus longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table, he was not talking about a French fry that just happened to fall out of his happy meal. You have to remember that at this point in time, it was customary to have some flat bread around during a meal. You would not only use it to scoop up things like mashed up fava beans or chick peas, but the bread was what you wiped your hands with. The very rich of this time wouldn’t even eat the bread but they would only wipe the grease from their hands with it and then throw it on the floor for the dogs to eat later. Lazarus longed for the food which the rich man threw out.
There are many words in Greek that can be translated as eating. There was one Greek word used for eating on a special occasion (the word used for what the rich man did every day), there was another word used for just the regular consumption of meals (which doesn’t occur in this story), and there was a word used to refer to the way that dogs and other animals eat (and that’s the word used to refer to what Lazarus longs to do—to eat dog food)! The horrible irony of this story is that Lazarus himself is dog food—we are told that the dogs would come up and lick his sores that covered his body. Lazarus was clothed from head to toe with sores, while the rich man was clothed in purple linen. There can be no greater chasm between the rich man and Lazarus.
As a pastor, the phone here and at the parsonage rings just about every day with a call from somebody wanting assistance. Sometimes the callers want a winter coat, other times they want a package of diapers, sometimes they simply want enough food to get them through the week—but usually they want money. I always ask them if they’ve contacted our local Christian ministries cooperative , and I’ve not had one person tell me they haven’t talked with them. The ones who ask for money, I tell them that we try to direct all the monetary help we can through our cooperative. But if they are hungry or cold or if their baby needs something, I’m not going to turn them down.
We don’t need to look to a story Jesus told 2,000 years ago to see a poor person that’s hungry and in need. We also don’t need to look to a 2,000 year old story to see rich people who are in need of something far greater than money. The main point of this story is not to degrade the wealthy or to scare people about hell. The point of this story is to make us remember those who are hungry. Sometimes in church it is easy to think that it’s all just between me and Jesus, but this story is here to remind us that living a Godly life is more than just what’s between you and Jesus—it is also about the relationship between you and Lazarus. Christianity isn’t just about heaven and hell, reward and punishment, and where you go when you die. It’s also about where you go when you live.
I love to invoke the five second rule when food falls to the floor. It disgusts people to no end. My wife’s step-mom and her sisters are so germaphobic. I’ve been known to drop food on the floor on purpose in front of them and snatch it up and eat it with my mouth open so they can see the little bits of dirt and dust. They almost lose their lunch right then and there. The five second rule is a great thing around some folks.
But as much fun as I get from the five second rule, I would like to offer a change in the rules of this heinous practice. You see, the five second rule divides people. There are those who think it’s disgusting and there are those who think it’s a bit of fun. But I would like to suggest that we change the rules entirely. Next time some food falls to the floor I want you to invoke a new five second rule that can bring folks together. That is, take five seconds and remember Lazarus. Take five seconds and remember those who would long to eat your food that falls to the floor. Next time you feed your dog, take five seconds and remember that there are hungry people in this world that aren’t as well-fed as your pet. Maybe even expand your horizons to include the ten second rule. But please, take a few seconds out of your day and remember Lazarus and the poor in our time, and then do something about it. It may be disgusting too, but it won’t kill you. Take five seconds and remember Lazarus, because hunger is the most disgusting thing of all. It’s amazing what a difference five seconds can make. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
