Finding Lazarus
Luke 16:19-31[1]
There are many
ways in this life for us to forfeit our humanity. We are so complex and
vulnerable, and life can threaten us where we least expect it. I would have to
say that our comfortable lifestyle encourages a complacency that can lead us to
forfeit our humanity. It’s one of the most dangerous temptations of having all
the “stuff” we have: it can leave us blind to the people in need and deaf to
God’s call to help them. Being able to see a person living in poverty and
hunger as a fellow human being is an important part of our humanity. So is
being able to hear God’s call to put compassion and mercy into practice
I think that’s
why Jesus told this parable: to shock all who have become blind to the needy
and deaf to the call to compassion. In fact, I would say that Jesus told this
parable to address the fact that the religious leaders of his day were “lovers
of money” (Luke 16:14). Their love affair with their own wealth blinded them to
the real needs of the people around them. Not only did they love their money,
they also “justified” themselves for it (cf. Lk. 16:15). They considered their
wealth to be a sign of God’s favor. Unfortunately, the combination of their
love of money and their self-justification robbed them of the ability to show
compassion to fellow human beings.
I believe this is the point
of Jesus’ parable about a rich man and Lazarus. For those of us who have enough
it can be so easy to ignore those who are in need. And when we do so, we lose a
part of our humanity. What we have to understand about the rich man is that he
is not only rich, he’s very rich. He wears clothing that only kings could
afford. He eats all he wants of the finest and richest foods. And what is
obvious from the parable is that Lazarus is not only poor, he’s completely
destitute. He is so hungry he just wants the scraps from the rich man’s table.
And he’s so weak that he can’t even fend off the starving dogs that gather
around him!
In the story, their
situations are radically reversed. Both
men die, and fate of the rich man, who was very likely a “pillar” of the
community and a leader of the local synagogue, is shocking in the extreme.
Instead of being rewarded in the afterlife, he finds himself in torment. On the
other hand, Lazarus, who would have been despised as a “sinner” getting what he
deserved, winds up in paradise, in the “bosom of Abraham.” I’m not sure we
could imagine a more radical reversal of fortunes. It is a dramatic
illustration of the first becoming last and the last becoming first.
It seems to me, however, that
one of the main points of this parable is the fact that this man who had
incredible wealth ignored Lazarus, who suffered terribly right at the very gate
to his household. I find myself wondering how many times the rich man ignored Lazarus. It’s hard to
say. Did the rich man ever find himself in a position of actually stepping over
Lazarus? I would say that’s very likely. Did the rich man ever once
actually looked Lazarus in the eyes? I doubt it. The rich man had become so
complacent with his wealth and his comfortable life that he could no longer
even see Lazarus. And in the process, he lost a very important part of his own
humanity: the capacity to show compassion to others.
After the dramatic reversal
of the two men’s fortunes, the rich man begs Abraham to send Lazarus to his
brothers, to warn them not to make the same mistake he had made. Abraham’s
reply is simple and to the point: “They have Moses and the prophets; they
should listen to them” (Lk. 16:29). The Scriptures have all the warning they
need to learn what it means to put God’s mercy into practice toward others. But
the rich man’s response is equally simple and blunt, “No, father Abraham” (Lk.
16:30). The rich man knew that they wouldn’t pay any more attention to Moses
and the prophets than he had. And I think this is another of Jesus’ lessons in
this parable. This man would have been respected by his community. And yet, in
reality, his great wealth made him deaf to the clear and repeated call of the
Scriptures to share what we have generously—especially with those who are poor,
or hurting, or vulnerable, or in any kind of need.
We still have
Moses and the prophets, but I’m not sure we do any better job hearing them than
the rich man or his brothers. We also have Jesus and the apostles, but I think it’s
easy for us to ignore them as well. So what do we have, or perhaps better, whom
do we have who can teach us to share what we have generously? We have Lazarus.
In fact, we have many Lazaruses all around us. But the question we face is
whether our humanity is still intact enough that they can help us. In the
parable from our Gospel lesson, in spite of the fact that the rich man begged
for Abraham to “send Lazarus” to help him, Abraham explained that he could not
help. We might say that the rich man already had his chance to learn from
Lazarus, and he ignored the lesson. But we still have a chance to learn from
the Lazaruses of our world.
So how can the
poor, the hurting, and those who have been cast out in our world teach us how
to share ourselves generously? They are
our prophets and apostles because they teach us that the life that is truly
worth living always has been and always will be characterized by compassion and
generosity. Although Lazarus could not help the rich man who ignored his
plight, I think perhaps he might help us. I think he can point us to the
Lazaruses all around us, poor and oppressed and outcast people who represent
opportunities for us to share our mercy and compassion. When we take the time
to notice them and do something to help them, we have the chance to be
converted to a life of sharing with those in need. When we “find Lazarus” in
the least and the lost and the left out among us, we have the chance to
recovery our own humanity.
[1] ©
Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 9/29/2019 at Hickman
Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.
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