Luke 16: 19-31
Proper 21 / Year C
This
morning we hear again Jesus’ parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man, which, even
though only found in Luke’s gospel, is familiar to all of us. Its stark imagery and stunning reversal puts
on notice those indifferent to human need and callus to other’s suffering. Heck, let’s be honest, it’s a warning to each
one of us, isn’t it. It conjures the
times I drive past a person holding a cardboard sign asking for food. It doesn’t matter investigators have found a grifting
enterprise behind some of them and it doesn’t matter if you help one person
because there will be another just around the corner; and try telling that person
you already did your part.
Typically,
Jesus tells these stories to make a singular point and often our fascination
with the details obscures its meaning.
In this parable, for example, many have gone down the rabbit’s hole to
formulate a doctrine of the afterlife; asking what it teaches about salvation,
judgment, purgatory, and more. While
these are elements of the story, they are more like what a set is to a play;
merely providing a backdrop for the action.
So,
if a parable is not about the setting, how do we know what its message for us
is to be? Well, often it is helpful to
ponder the characters in the story and wonder which one Jesus wants us to see
ourselves in. With Lazarus and the Rich
Man, we don’t identify with being the poor beggar. We know we are not Abraham, the minister of
God’s comfort in the afterlife. So this
leaves the Rich Man; and in this story, well, the shoe (uncomfortable as it may
be) fits. The parable makes us feel
guilty for having in a world with have nots; for holding on to what we have
when Jesus says we should hand over to those whose hands are stretched
out. So there it is. Meaning taught. Case closed.
Time for the Creed.
Or
is it? Might there be another character
in the parable we are overlooking? In
this case, there is… or, more aptly, there are; and they are easy to overlook: The
Rich Man’s five siblings.
At
its core, the parable is bathed with a sense of urgency. It calls for the listeners to act and to act
before it’s too late. For Lazarus, the
moment has passed. But it is not so for
his brothers. They still have an
opportunity to respond. They still can
change their ways. They still have
time. And so do we. But what will it take to get their
attention? What will it take to get
ours?
Clearly,
the parable teaches about our need to demonstrate real compassion and concern
for those in desperate need. It calls
for us to affirm the humanity of every person, beginning with those living in
the most inhumane of conditions. And for
some of us – perhaps for most of us – this is the most urgent thing we need to
acknowledge. But it may not be the only
thing. There may be something else;
something more.
If
you leave here this morning with one question, I hope it is this: What is
something I am overlooking which requires my urgent attention? Jesus’ parable means to wake us from a
slumber to face something critical in our lives.
In
1996, Mitch Albom, then a Detroit-based sportswriter, was surprised to see
Morrie Schwartz, his old Brandeis University college professor, being
interviewed on Ted Koppel’s Nightline show. Coming to grips with his own mortality after
being diagnosed with ALS, Schwartz began to teach a course on what he was
learning about life as he was dying. It became
wildly popular on the campus and news about it spread.
The
professor made a tremendous impact on Albom as a student and Mitch vowed to
keep in touch with his mentor after graduation, but time and work and life
itself have a way of getting in the way of such commitments. Gripped by a renewed sense of urgency, Albom
reached out to Schwartz and when the two got together a wonderful conversation
ensued. One thing led to another and
over the course of fourteen Tuesdays, Albom recorded their chats, which then
became the source material for his book Tuesdays
with Morrie. First published in 1997, it is the bestselling
memoir of all time.
I
know many of you have read it. Perhaps
you remember this from the book:
After the funeral, my life changed. I felt as if time was suddenly precious,
water going down an open drain, and I could not move quickly enough. No more playing music at half-empty
clubs. No more writing songs in my
apartment, songs that no one would hear…
So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half-asleep, even when they’re busy
doing things they think are important.
This is because they’re chasing the wrong things. The way you get meaning in your life is to
devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you,
and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning.
For
most of us, most of our time and attention is dominated by things which demand
and manipulate our day-to-day attention.
Seldom do we ponder the bigger questions about the direction our life is
headed or the priorities we have embraced or the person we are becoming or the
Source of our being and the implications which follow from it. These are important things, but we don’t sense
they are urgent. They nag at us, but we
are adept at pushing them out of the way, just like the Rich Man managed day after
day after day to avoid Lazarus.
But
Jesus says you are not the Rich Man. You
are his siblings. How much like them are
you? In what important ways are you complacent? In what areas of life do you need a sense of
urgency now in order to reorder your life so you can live in accordance with
God’s dream for you?
