Sermon - Sixteenth Sunday After Pentecost (9/29/2019)
Amos 6:1a, 4-7; Ps. 146; 1 Tim. 6:6-19; Lk. 16:19-31
According to the ancient pagan Greek philosopher Plato, writing about 380 B.C., there is an old myth about the days when Zeus was still a boy, when – he says – “there existed a law respecting the destiny of humans, that those who have lived all their lives in justice and holiness shall go, when they are dead, to the Islands of the Blessed, and dwell there in perfect happiness out of the reach of evil, but they who have lived unjustly and impiously shall go to the house of vengeance and punishment.”
In today’s gospel, Jesus tells a superficially similar story about two people who die, with one going to an eternal reward and another going someplace else. But on a closer look, the story Jesus tells is actually quite different from the one the Greek philosopher tells. Seeing that difference, I believe, is the key to the story.
So, let’s start here. According to Plato, those who “have lived all their lives in justice and holiness” will be rewarded after death by being admitted to the Islands of the Blessed. In the story Jesus tells, Lazarus dies and is taken away by angels to the side of Abraham. But you’ll notice that Jesus never says that Lazarus “lived all his life in justice and holiness.” In fact, Jesus says nothing at all about anything that Lazarus did.
What we are told about Lazarus is what happened to him: that he was poor, that he was afflicted with sores, that the dogs were compassionate enough to come and show him kindness, even when human beings did not. And we are told that Lazarus was hungry: that he longed for even the scraps from the rich man’s table. But we are told nothing about what Lazarus did, one way or the other, and we are certainly not told that Lazarus “lived all his life in justice and holiness.”
Now, in the story Jesus tells, when Lazarus dies, why is he immediately carried off by angels to be with Abraham? As good Lutherans we know the answer: Because of the grace of God. Every human being is made in the image and likeness of God, every human being is included in the humanity of Jesus who died and rose again for all of us. No matter how miserable and insignificant human beings thought Lazarus was, God calls him by name. And as Lazarus was hungry for love and acceptance, of course God welcomes Lazarus to the place of the blessed. Plato thought great men earned an eternal reward with great deeds of justice and holiness; Jesus tells us the love of God is a free gift given to all.
OK, and now what about the rich man? Plato would tell you that “they who have lived unjustly and impiously shall go to the house of vengeance and punishment.” But in the story of Jesus there has not yet been a judgment, and there’s no mention in the story of Jesus of “punishment” or “revenge” for the rich man. The connection between the rich man’s relationship with Lazarus – or lack thereof – and where he ended up is more subtle and more interesting than that.
So, in life, Lazarus spent all his days outside the rich man’s gate, and the rich man did nothing to help him. Which tells us that the rich man did not understand the love of God, that Lazarus was made in the image and likeness of God just as much as he was. If the rich man had understood how much God loved Lazarus, if the rich man had understood that everything we have is a gift from God for which we are responsible, he would have acted differently in life – so he must not have understood this. And even now, in death, as he sees Lazarus with Abraham in the place of blessedness, the rich man still doesn’t get it.
He asks Abraham, Please send Lazarus to give me a little water. As if Lazarus were his servant! As if his wishes are still paramount, and Lazarus only exists to serve his needs! And when that proves impossible, the rich man does think of someone else – his brothers, the people it’s easiest for him to sympathize with and worry about. And he asks Abraham to send Lazarus to on a mission to give them a special warning.
It’s interesting that the rich man never addresses Lazarus, only Abraham. He talks to Abraham about Lazarus, but he never speaks to Lazarus. I imagine that, if he were to speak to Lazarus, he would not know what to say. Probably the conversation has to begin with the rich man saying, “Lazarus, I’m sorry. All those years I could have helped you, and lessened your suffering, and I didn’t do it. It was thoughtless of me, and I’m so sorry.” But, for whatever reason, the rich man is not ready to do that, so he talks to Abraham instead.
And Abraham has to tell the rich man, Look, my child, let me tell you how it is. You are not the center of the universe. Lazarus is here, and you are there, and Lazarus doesn’t work for you. In fact, you’re dead! You’re not hot stuff anymore (so to speak). There is a great chasm between you and us – just as there was an insurmountable divide in life, right at your front gate, when Lazarus was on the other side of it and you were oblivious to him. In fact, you are still oblivious to him, you still think of him as someone at your beck and call, someone who you would dare to demand be sent to help you, after everything that has happened between the two of you!
In the story of Jesus, even in Hades the rich man still doesn’t get it. He is still trying to be in control, to manipulate Abraham and Lazarus into doing what he wants – a drop of water here, a special word of warning to his relatives there – but everything is still about him and what he can do. Luther called this being turned in on oneself – when we see everything, everyone, even God, in terms of what they mean for us. And when we lose the ability to love God and love our neighbor for their own sake, we also lose the ability to accept that God loves us simply as what God has made us to be.
And it’s interesting, I think, that the rich man’s final idea is to have Lazarus come back from the dead to warn the rich man’s brothers. Personally, I think it would be much more effective for the rich man to come back from the dead – if the point is to scare the brothers straight, shouldn’t they hear from someone whose experience of the afterlife has been problematic? Someone who’s been resting contentedly in the bosom of Abraham is not going to frighten anyone. But I think the rich man doesn’t want to volunteer for that mission because first he’d have to admit that he’s dead. That it’s over. That there is nothing more he can do. That he’s just going to have to put the burden down and trust in God for the rest.
And this is exactly what the rich man cannot do. From the rich man’s point of view, yes, of course, Lazarus is dead, he didn’t have much of a life to begin with so it’s probably just as well for him, so Lazarus is perfect for the job of being an emissary from the dead. I, however, would not be caught dead doing such an undignified thing (so to speak). And until the rich man accepts the truth of his death, of his complete and utter dependence on God, he can never find the peace that Lazarus already has.
But, in the end, I find the story that Jesus tells to be quite hopeful. Much more hopeful than the story that Plato tells, in which God rewards the noble hero who does great deeds of justice and piety with eternal blessedness, and God takes revenge on the wicked with eternal punishment. In the story told by Jesus, by contrast, God bestows love and mercy freely on everyone – love that is accepted by Lazarus and so is experienced as blessedness and peace, and love that is resisted by the rich man, and so is experienced as a problem.
For those of us who, like Lazarus, wonder if anything we do matters, for those of us who are hungry for love and for justice and for mercy, we hear a story about a God who sees everyone, even the weakest and the least, who will not forget or overlook them but will call them by name into life.
And for those of us, like the rich man, still turned in on ourselves, still insensitive to the suffering of others, still overly impressed with ourselves and our merits and so resistant to God’s free gift of grace and thoughtlessly neglectful of the needs of our neighbors – the unconditional love of God is for us too. And even if the love of God makes us uncomfortable in our self-centeredness, well, at least we are still loved by God. And there is no one who is so turned in on themselves that God cannot eventually bend them back into shape.
Ultimately the story of Jesus is about a God who is not content simply to reward the good and punish the bad. But a God who can bring life out of death, who overlooks nothing and no one, who bestows life and love freely even when we’d prefer it otherwise, who calls each of us by name, satisfies all our hungers, and invites us to share our gifts with one another as freely as God has given them to us.