WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH LAZARUS?

 

     There was a certain rich man who wore purple linen clothes everyday- not just for special occasions, but everyday. Purple was a sign of wealth and this man, who later became known as “Dives,” wore it every single day. He lived like a king and dined on the best of food. In a time when people struggled to afford meat, this rich man ate pheasant, dormice, boar, and lamb on a regular basis, along with the best fruit and wine that money could buy.  There was a certain poor man (who was every bit as poor as the rich man was rich) named Lazarus who laid near the rich man’s gate. Instead of purple clothes, Lazarus was covered in sores, that dogs licked as they roamed the streets, and he longed for nothing more than a few crumbs from the rich man’s table. But they never came. Not a scrap, not a drink… because Dives didn’t seem to see him. Day after day, the rich man would come and go without acknowledging the poor man who laid at his gate in any way. In the course of time, both men died. Lazarus was taken by angels and placed in the bosom of Father Abraham. Dives, on the other hand, ended up in hell, where he experienced great emotional and physical agony. According to Jesus’ parable, the rich man was suffering when he lifted his eyes and saw both Abraham and Lazarus. Have mercy on me, he cried out to Abraham, and send Lazarus to give me a drop of water to quench my thirst. Abraham said, ‘My son, do not forget that when you were living you had your good things. Lazarus had bad things.” And more than all this, no one from here can get to you! (see Luke 16:19ff)

      A certain rich man’s land produced a bountiful crop. Its abundance caught him by surprise and he wondered what he should do with his abundance. Then he thought, here’s what I’ll do. I’ll tear down my barns and build bigger ones. Then I will be on easy street for the rest of my life. I will rest, eat, drink, and throw parties without a care in the world. But God said to him, “You fool,” you should’ve stored up your riches in heaven because this is your last day on earth. (see Luke 12:13ff) There was a man who came to Jesus and said, "Teacher, what can I do to gain eternal life?" Obey the commandments, Jesus stated. I have, the man replied. “Then,” Jesus said, “sell what you own, give the proceeds to the poor, and follow me.” When the young man heard this, he went away sad because he was very rich. (Matt. 19:16ff) And so what are we to make of all of this, especially those of us who are rich by the world’s standards? 

      There is no reason to think that Dives insulted or abused Lazarus… but he was blind to Lazarus’ needs. He didn’t see him. There’s no reason to think that the rich "fool" should have felt guilty because he received a bountiful crop, or that he should not have carefully considered what to do with it….but it’s clear that he didn’t see his connection with those in need, and didn’t see that the future is God’s time! Likewise, it doesn’t seem that the rich ruler was corrupt or evil, but it is clear that he just couldn’t bring himself to let go of his riches because he had fallen in love with them. To me, these passages are personal. They are not indictments against riches as such- Abraham, for instance, was extremely rich. They warn us about misusing riches, but they do not condemn them or celebrate poverty. They are not about economic systems or a redistribution of wealth, but they do ask two very important questions to me: 1) am I generous with what I have, and 2) what am I doing with Lazarus? Do I wear my riches well and share generously as God leads me... and what am I doing with Lazarus? What am I doing with Jesus when he appears to me as a beggar on the street, as an unwelcome intruder cleaning my windshield, as a lonely figure in an alley, as a young woman whose life has gone all wrong, as someone who is simply hard to like, or a Lazarus, who is dying under my watch?

      To me, Christianity revolves around two questions: 1) what am I doing with the gifts and opportunities God has given me, and 2) what am I doing with His Son? Do I even see him? Am I willing to go out of my way to be of assistance? I would like to think that I would’ve paid for Lazarus’ medical care, fed him lavishly, and given him a place to call home… or at least looked him in the eye and given him a few crumbs from my table, but my track record would tell a different story. O Lord, give me eyes that see you when you appear to me, a heart that breaks with yours, and enough courage to get involved. Amen! 

 

TAKE A PLUMB LINE, CHRISTIAN! WHAT DO YOU SEE?

 

TAKE A PLUMB LINE, CHRISTIAN! WHAT DO YOU SEE?

Amos was a shepherd in Tekoa, a small village, south of Jerusalem, in the southern kingdom of Judah. He lived in a time of relative peace and things were going well, especially in the northern kingdom of Israel… where many of the people drank the best of wines and lived in big stone houses. They were also a religious people who gathered for their festivals and joyfully presented their offerings to God… but (and this is a big but) they had built their “good life” on the backs of the poor and vulnerable who lived in their midst.

They were filled with a sense of entitlement. They were drunk on their own wine. They had come to believe that God blessings were all designed for them… and they had ignored the justice (mishpat) and righteousness (sedeqah) that God demanded from the very beginning.  Amos was neither a prophet nor a son of a prophet. He was a shepherd, but after he received his call from God, he traveled north to present God’s case against the way in which the poor and marginalized were being treated. He condemned those who had winter homes and summer homes, while others were struggling, and he singled out the entitled women of Bashan, whom he called “fat cows” because they oppressed the poor and crushed the needy.

Speaking for God, he criticized the wealthy for worshiping God on their own terms and for being more filled with self-righteousness than righteousness. “There are those among you,” Amos noted, again speaking for God, “who hate the one who upholds justice and detest the one who tells the truth.” Not only do you avoid both justice and the truth, but you persecute those who try to help and get attention for the poor and disadvantaged. According to Amos,there were those who “levied a straw tax on the poor” and who “oppressed the innocent by taking bribes,” while they build stone mansions for themselves. “I hate, I despise, your festivals.” God said. “I will not listen to your harps”... until justice rolls down like a river and righteousness like a near falling stream. I will not attend your events and I will not listen to your organ music until you practice mishpat and sedeqah in your land and show my love in the way you treat others. “Your beds are adorned with ivory and you drink wine by the bowlful,” but you “do not grieve over the ruin of Joseph.”

Israel was a religious people, but they were not faithful. They did not love their neighbors as themselves. They were not their brothers' or sisters' keeper, and they didn’t keep their thumbs off the the scales in the marketplace. Their religion had become part of their self-serving and dismissive lifestyle. SO… God showed a plumb line to Amos… and asked, “What do you see?” What do you see? Are things okay, or are they out of plumb? 

Are things okay or are they out of plumb in our world, our country, our town, our church, our families, in our own lives? Or are they straight and lined up with God’s will, to the best of our ability? What do you see, dear Christian? Are things plumb or have they gone awry? Are there safety nets and helping hands for those who are vulnerable? Are strangers welcomed when they show up at our door? Are the circles of grace and acceptance that we draw… as big and as permeable as God’s? Do we see other people, near and far, the same and different, as bearers of God’s image or as people who can serve us and be of some use? Are we rearing our children in the way of the Lord? Have we tamed our tribal tendencies? Are we doing better at knowing and trusting our neighbors? Have we broken the cycle of violence in our towns and in our homes? Do we leave some of our crops for the poor and the strangers? Are we, as a people, in good shape morally and spiritually? Do we really walk hand in hand? Do we even try? Do people really know us by our love? Do those who have two coats give one to the person who has none? Do we speak for those whose voices have been silenced? Do we speak truth to power, even if it costs us something? Does Abel’s blood cry out to us, for the taking of his life, as it did to God so many years ago? Do we embrace the unlovable and forgive the unforgivable? When we look into the eyes of a person who may be next to us in a line somewhere, or at table with us, who may or may not look like us; who may be, or not be, in agreement with us- do we see a child of God?  Or is our vision blinded by stereotypes and our own self interests?

      Take a plumb line, Christian (you and me) and see if things are plumb… in the world, in the church, in your family, and in your heart? Amen.

Posted by RevKen at 6:15 PM No comments: