Have any of you visited the Trump Plaza in Atlantic City? That’s what I kept thinking of as I meditated on this parable. Because just as I was leaving Presbytery last Tuesday evening, I ran into Bob Higgs, who is Executive Director of the Atlantic City Mission Council. He was carrying several plastic bags full of clothing. I looked at him inquiringly, and he explained, “Underwear. And socks. The guys at the mission wear theirs until they fall apart.” And so I saw the rich man in the story as Donald Trump, and Lazarus was all the homeless men who sit hopeless and hungry at their gates.
The timing is perfect, because we’re going to emphasize stewardship this month, as Consecration Sunday comes at the end of October, and this text certainly makes a great kick-off for the topic. But although how we use our resources is certainly part of this text’s message, I’m not sure it’s the most important. But before I tell you what I think this sermon IS about, I want to clear away some of the debris that typically surrounds any discussion of Jesus and money. This parable does not teach that it is sinful to be wealthy. Abraham was rich, Job was rich, Solomon was rich. Jesus doesn’t say it’s better to be poor, either. Even though Lazarus went to heaven and the rich man - let’s call him Donald - went to hell, it wasn’t their possessions that got them there. It does look like payback, of course... after death, their roles are reversed. Lazarus is at ease, and Donald is tormented. Jesus turns the old Hebrew way of thinking upside down, showing that wealth is not necessarily a reward for virtue, and poverty not necessarily the consequence of sin. “Woe to you who are rich,” says Luke, “ for you have received your consolation. “Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry. “Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep.” [Lk 6:24-26] Or as Matthew puts it, “Many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.” [Mt 19:30] The pendulum swings, and Lazarus is up while Donald is down.
Here’s a couple more interesting tidbits to put this story into context: ancient Hebrew tombs were often inscribed, “Asleep in the bosom of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.” The popular belief at the time was that all of Abraham’s descendants would join him in the afterlife. Jesus used terminology familiar to His audience to make a point; we aren’t to assume that the people who made it into heaven can converse with people who didn’t. And it’s my opinion that he uses the name Lazarus partly because it means “God is my help,” but it’s also a reference to the other Lazarus whom Jesus later raised from the dead.
For the purposes of the lesson Jesus is trying to teach, however, Donald is in hell, and he can see heaven from there. Talk about rubbing it in! It’s a whole lot easier to put up with hunger, isn’t it, when the bakery isn’t right next door. I read somewhere that during the summer in Iraq - when the temperature rarely drops below 3 figures - our soldiers used to say “This isn’t hell, but you can see it from here.”
Well, there is Donald, hungry, thirsty, and hot, and for the first time in his life he can’t send a servant to fix things. So he calls up to Father Abraham to send Lazarus to help relieve his suffering. Now remember that Donald always been able to cut a deal. You find out what the other person wants, and negotiate the terms of exchange. But why on earth would he particularly ask for Lazarus to be the one to deliver the hoped-for mercy? Do you suppose he expects Lazarus to feel some kind of connection because they’re from the same home town? Somehow that does not compute for me. Do you suppose that every now and then Donald had the servants toss him a crust, and expected Lazarus to feel gratitude? It may well be. We almost always exaggerate our own generosity. But as Mother Teresa once said, “If you give something that you can live without, it’s not giving.”
Well, after Abraham turns that request down, Donald then asks for Lazarus be sent to warn his family to mend their ways, so they won’t end up where he was. This is an invitation to the hellfire and brimstone school of preaching, which is only effective if you actually do believe in an afterlife. C.S. Lewis tells us of a tombstone that read, “Here lies an atheist — all dressed up and no place to go.” He added, “I bet he wishes that were so.”
Now this parable doesn’t really tell us much about life after death, except that there are two very different destinations, but it does tell us plenty about the human heart. Abraham replies, “‘They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.” [Lk 16:29]
And that is what I think is the central point of Jesus’ parable. It’s about faith. Or rather, it’s about lack of faith.
This is where Jesus makes an ironic point that no one could have caught at the time. This is where the significance of the name Lazarus comes into play. Right before Jesus’ death, he performed a miracle, raising from the dead that other Lazarus, the brother of Mary and Martha. This passage contains the shortest verse in the Bible: two words, “Jesus wept.” [Jn 11:35] It’s easy to remember. But what we don’t remember is that Jesus didn’t weep when he heard that Lazarus had died, he wept when he saw how people were reacting. They were reacting as people without faith. And it may well be that Jesus was also weeping but because he knew that even after he performed the miracle it wouldn’t change much of anything. Yes, Mary and Martha believed, but most of the people would still reject the Messiah when they were asked to believe in something that was out of their everyday experience. Even though Lazarus was raised from the dead, the people didn’t stay convinced. Worse than that: some tried to kill Lazarus, to erase from public consciousness this obvious miracle.
At any rate, Donald pleads with Abraham, saying, “No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.” [Lk 16:30] Well, as we who have the historical record of the last 2000 years know, that when a real life Lazarus actually did rise from the dead, it didn’t do the trick. And even when Jesus himself arose, still far too many chose not to see, chose not to hear, chose not to believe. People still have the freedom to choose not to hear, not to see, and not to believe. Miracles can provide evidence, but they cannot force belief. God does not coerce belief. He invites it, he gives us reason to believe, but he does not drag us forcibly across the gap against our will. It still takes faith to take that step, to accept Christ for who he is.
There have been skeptics throughout the ages, people of intellectual pride, who deny that there is a reality behind the world of the senses we all inhabit. The famous French philosopher, Voltaire claimed that within a hundred years Christianity would be dead. Within a hundred years Voltaire was dead, and his house had become a Bible publishing company. Headlines in the 50’s proclaimed “God is dead,” and here we still are, with the Gospel spreading like forest fires all over the world under persecution and oppression that make the Romans look like playground bullies by comparison.
But was our Donald an unbeliever in that sense? I don’t think so. He was Jewish! They were the people who knew God, who had the law and the prophets, who had the temple and their traditions. I’ll would wager a month’s salary that Donald would have identified himself as a Jew in good standing with the temple. Of course we have no way of knowing, so my paycheck is safe, but you get the idea.
I am certain that Donald thought he believed. Just as I am certain that many people sitting in American pews at this very moment, in churches around the country, are absolutely certain that they are people in good standing with God. But how much of what God wants us to hear have we actually heard? And does it matter how much we hear if we don’t actually do what we’re told? The lectionary passage gives us 1 Timothy on the love of money as the companion text to this parable, but I kept finding myself turning to James, instead.
“...Be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves. For if any are hearers of the word and not doers, they are like those who look at themselves in a mirror; for they look at themselves and, on going away, immediately forget what they were like. But those who look into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and persevere, being not hearers who forget but doers who act-- they will be blessed in their doing. If any think they are religious, and do not bridle their tongues but deceive their hearts, their religion is worthless. Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world." [Jas 1:22-27]
Now we all fail to meet this standard. But the fact of the matter is that we aren’t better than other people just because we don’t commit murder or adultery, if we spend more on dinners out than food for the hungry, if we don’t get drunk but do enjoy gossip, don’t use bad language but never forget a wrong. In God’s eyes, if we habitually indulge in a behavior we have been told is wrong, refuse to recognize it as sin and repent, then we are just as badly off as the rich man in Jesus’ story. Remember that it is the habit of ignoring God that is at issue here, not the occasional slip.
Our hypothetical Donald hadn’t heard from James yet, of course. Nor had he heard he parable of the good Samaritan. But he had the law. Moses had said, “Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, ‘Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land.’” [Dt 15:11] And he had the prophets. What did Micah say that God wanted? “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” [Mic 6:8] He had no excuse.
A troubling aspect of this text is that appears that God’s evaluation of our lives is based on works. And Martin Luther didn’t think the book of James belonged in the Bible, because of Luther’s passionate commitment to salvation by faith alone, apart from works. But James explains it this way: “faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.” [Jas 2:17] It’s what I call the difference between formal and functional faith. You can say you believe, but if you don’t act on your belief, you show that you really don’t believe it. Jesus told us to do a lot of things that are really hard. "Do not worry." "Do not lust." "Do not judge." "Love your enemy." "Forgive seventy times seven." "Turn the other cheek." "Sell all you have and give to the poor." "Let the dead bury the dead." "If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away." "Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven." "Deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me." "Whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant."
What resources do you have and how willing are you to share them? Money, in a way, is the easiest thing to give, because it lets your heart off the hook. It wouldn’t have cost Donald a moment’s effort to instruct his servants to give Lazarus the daily leftovers. It’s not that giving money isn’t important. It is absolutely essential simply because of the way the world works. But what really matters to God is whether or not you actually care about the person or cause you are helping, or if you’re just paying to clear your conscience or to push the unpleasantness of poverty or sickness or failure out of your sight.
Sharing our possessions is a really good test of whether or not we have actually taken Jesus’ words to heart, the words which call us to love others as we love ourselves. But being generous with our money is not the only way. Sometimes giving up our time is harder. Giving up our ego, our anger, or our resentment might be the hardest of all. Each commandment of Jesus calls us to give up something we value for the sake of another. What is hard for you? Is it harder for you to give or to forgive? During last Thursday’s Bible study we spent a lot of time talking about hospitality. The jumping off point was Abraham’s reception of three visitors who eventually turn out to be messengers from the Lord. But even before he knows who they are, Abraham’s response was to leap to his feet and offer them the best he had. Is that our first impulse? Hospitality is a must for Christians. How willing are you to share your space? How willing are you to let other people into your lives? How fiercely do you guard your privacy?
As different as each one of us is, we will each stumble over different commandments. That is why we must be careful to listen to everything God tells us, and not just to focus on the passages we find congenial or comforting. When Jesus says, “Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect,” [Mt 5:48] he is not expecting us to get everything right all the time. But he does expect us to mature. Paul tells us what our goal is in the letter to the Ephesians “to come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the measure of the full stature of Christ.” [Eph 4:13] And he tells us how to get there in his letter to the Philippians: “I press on to make [the goal] my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. ...forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.” [Ph 3:12-14]
G. K. Chesterton said, “The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and left untried.” Jesus has made himself very clear. Have you been listening?
