A number of golfers meet at the first tee. They don’t know each other, but on this busy
Saturday they are grouped into a foursome by the club. They have an enjoyable round and afterward
are changing in the crowded locker room.
A cellphone lying on a bench begins to ring and one of the four picks it
up and answers. “I’m fine dear, how are
you”, he says? “You are shopping. Well, isn’t that wonderful!” “You want to buy a $5,000 dress, with $2,500
matching shoes and a $1,500 coordinating pocketbook? I think that is a marvelous idea.” “You found a new style for decorating your
SheShed and it’ll cost $50,000? You
certainly are worth it.” “And what was that sports car you have been dreaming
about? Right, the Alpha Romeo Spider
convertible. There will never be a
better day than today to stop by the dealership and pick out one.” “Sure, I think you should drive it off the
lot.” The other three golfers overhearing
all of this are amazed. How much money
must a guy have to happily encourage his wife to spend so much so freely? The man finishes the call and lays the device
back down on the bench. He looks at his
stunned associates and says, “Any of you guys have an idea whose phone this
is?”
Last Sunday we heard Jesus’ story of the Shrewd
Manager, which we said was perhaps his most difficult parable to
understand. Nothing in its odd details
seems to have any semblance of a redeeming message. This morning we hear the Parable of Lazarus
and the Rich Man. Unlike last week’s,
this one is about as straight forward as it can be. The details are crisp and clear and we don’t
have to puzzle much about its message and meaning. The two share at least one thing in common: each
puts us on the defensive. “It is not
talking about me, is it?”
As a literary genre, parables have their place, but
are not necessarily the best basis on which to build a foundation of doctrinal
truths, which is to say, it would be unwise to use this story to construct a
comprehensive understanding of the afterlife.
Still, it suggests a couple of themes worth pondering.
The first is judgment. I don’t know what it will look like, but our
lives and how we lived them will be assessed.
The bible uses human imagery in an attempt to approximate what this
might look like: a manager giving an accounting, appearing before a judge, a
fire consuming dross while purifying gold, standing before St. Peter, facing a
day of reckoning. Whatever this
experience will be like, human imagery provides only a shadowy sense of what is
to come. Clearly, in Jesus’ story, the
rich man is judged for being unaware and/or inattentive to Lazarus’ need and
suffering.
A second theme is reversal. It is one of Jesus’ favorite motifs: the
first shall be last and the last shall be first in the kingdom of God. Did you notice this detail in the story: In our world, everyone knows the names of the
well-to-do (we even have TV shows about them… Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous), while the poor remain
anonymous. In Jesus’ parable, the poor
man has a name, while the other person is known only by his financial
status. The conditions each experiences
are reversed: the one who suffers is comforted and the one with comfort suffers.
Again the parable raises in me the response, “Oh
my, is this going to be my fate?”
As Jesus tells his story he creates a vivid
contrast between the two lives. It seems
to me there is one word in the narrative describing the Rich Man’s life that
hones in on the difference. It is the
Greek word lampros, which at its root
means “splendid”. Here is how a few
different bible versions translate it:
· The Wycliffe Bible (one of the oldest translations):
[The Rich man] ate every day shiningly.
· The Message (one of the most recent): wasting his days
in conspicuous consumption.
·
The American Standard
Version: living
in mirth and splendor every day.
· The New International Version: lived
in luxury every day
· God’s Word Translation: Every day was like a party to him
The King James Version appears to be the
first to translate lampros as “sumptuous”:
he fared sumptuously every day. The New Revised Standard Version, which
most Episcopal Churches read from every Sunday, follows suit: He feasted sumptuously every day.
Sumptuous seems to imply more than well-off. The
Marrian-Webster Dictionary defines it as “extremely costly, rich, luxurious, or magnificent.” Synonyms include extravagant, grandiose, ostentatious, pretentious, and showy Take a long, critical look at yourself. Be exceedingly harsh and then, as I suggested
with last week’s parable, ask yourself, “Does this sound like me?”
Here is something I notice about the Rich Man as Jesus presents him: Throughout
his life he neither looks up nor looks around.
He does not engage God and he is oblivious of the people nearby, especially
Lazarus.
When we look up we discover a God who loves us and blesses us. We meet a Creator who has filled the world delight. Rather than receiving it from God in due
course and good measure, the Rich Man wallows in pleasure day and night. Rather than sharing it in the joy of family,
the fellowship of community, or the supply of those in need, he is myopic;
seeing only the delectables, but never people.
As Jesus tells his story, he describes two chasms. The first is in this world. It is the divide between the Rich Man and
Lazarus. Why does it exist? Common sense and experience tells us people
are separated by social status, religious affiliation, racial origin, and host
of any other factors. It just seems to
be the way the world is. A part of the
Christian mission is to help people create bridges across the things which
divide us. In Jesus’ parable, the only
way to bridge the divide across the chasm between the Rich Man and Lazarus is
if the Rich Man builds it. He doesn’t and
the chasm remains uncrossed.
The second chasm in Jesus’ parable is in the life to come. There is no explanation for why it is exists,
but (from how Jesus tells the story) this much is certain… there is no way to
bridge it from either side. The divide
is permanently uncrossable. At last the
Rich Man looks up and he looks around, but the time for this to matter has
passed.
My own theology of the life to come is unfinished at best, but I like
something C.S. Lewis says his book The
Great Divorce. Just as we have the
opportunity in this life to move towards God, so too we will have the
opportunity in the next. The
dispositions we create and cultivate in this life influence who we will be and
what we will desire in the next. Just as
in this life, the next life will have a path that ends in God. The chasm between us and God has been bridged
by Jesus Christ. If you do not want to
take a single step on it in this life, why would you you think you will want to
walk it in the next?
As I pondered today’s reading throughout the week, I kept remembering
something I witnessed many years ago. I
was visiting with the rector of an Episcopal Church in downtown Lancaster, PA,
who impressed me very a priest and person.
The time came for lunch and he suggested we walk around the corner to a
local favorite (imagine Baron’s Pub!).
Out on the street we encountered a man whose apppearance suggested he relied
on the charity of others to make it in life.
The rector greeted him by name and they began to engage in a warm, friendly,
and familiar conversation. Honestly, it
was the first time I ever witnessed two people bridge the chasm created by such
econimic disparity. The memory has
stayed with me all these years and it is no wonder it kept coming back to me
this week.
Like many of you, I find myself living a life now a little bit like the
life of the Lancaster priest. I greet a
variety people as they stroll past my house, as I walk down the street, and as
I traverse the aisles of Wal-Mart. I
know them through our Food Pantry and other ministries here at St. Paul’s. It gives me great joy to think I am living now
something like what I saw in those two people some thirty years ago.
Of all the bible’s images of judgment, the one I warm to the most is the
consuming fire (no pun intended). I’d
like to think everything about my life will be tested and that what is good and
worthy and of God will remain while all that is not and all that holds me back
will melt away. One thing I am confident
will endure are the joyful interactions I have with the various and varied
people of our community.
Jesus said, “There was rich man who feasted sumptuously every day.” He neither looked up nor looked around and
then one day it was too late.
