Who is at our gate? (and what will we do?)

Psalm 146

Luke 16: 19 - 31

Last week, we talked a bit about how this particular section of Luke’s gospel is focused on our relationship to our wealth, our privilege, our stuff. And this focus flows naturally from Jesus’ sermon on the plain which lays out God’s preferential treatment for the poor. Beginning in Luke 6, Jesus’ teaching for the remainder of Luke’s gospel is framed this way:

“Blessed are you who are poor,

    for yours is the kingdom of God.

“Blessed are you who are hungry now,

    for you will be filled.

“Blessed are you who weep now,

    for you will laugh.

“Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.

“But woe to you who are rich,

    for you have received your consolation.

“Woe to you who are full now,

    for you will be hungry.

“Woe to you who are laughing now,

    for you will mourn and weep.

“Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.

“But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. Do to others as you would have them do to you.”

And this story heard today about a Rich Man (who is never given a proper name – the sum total of his identity is A RICH MAN) and Lazarus – a name which means “God is my help”, focuses our attention on how our possessions, or our station in life, might keep us from relationship…might keep us from joining in God’s preferential treatment for the poor.

We said last week that as a church, part of work is to wrestle in community with scripture to seek understanding. This is work best done together. To be able to take this ancient story and find how it is speaking to us – individually and as a community - today. 

In this story, the Rich Man lands in Hades after his death – at that time the Jewish understanding of the underworld – while the sick, sore-covered beggar named Lazarus who had laid outside the Rich Man’s gate is carried away by the angels to feast with Abraham, the great father of Israel at his death.

There seems to be good divine reception between Hades and where Father Abraham lives with the beggar Lazarus, because when the Rich Man calls out, asking for Abraham to send Lazarus to SERVE the Rich Man in Hades, Abraham reminds him that he had his comfort and his goodness and his abundance on earth.

There are things left unsaid in this story.  It is pretty clear that while Lazarus suffered right outside the Rich Man’s gate, the Rich Man did not reach out to him.  He certainly never invited him inside.  He likely never went out to sit on the ground beside him and ask him about his life, his suffering, his sores, what he might need.

I am left with the impression that the Rich Man didn’t care about Lazarus.  Perhaps he had never seen Lazarus at his gate.  And the formula Abraham provides in response to the Rich Man is stark – you’ve had yours. You had your turn. You didn’t do anything to help someone who didn’t have the same privilege. Now you have a different reality.  And so now, it is Lazarus’ turn to enjoy the good life.

So the Rich Man begs Abraham to send Lazarus to warn the Rich Man’s brothers…. Because you know, maybe they will pay attention to the things that the Rich Man has not.

And Abraham basically says, you know, there have been and are abundant messengers, leaders and teachers.  There is a history of turning away and turning back to God – wilderness, murmuring, repentance. There is a story and a tradition and there have been prophets yelling this in the streets. If your brothers haven’t paid attention yet (just like you, Rich Man), what makes you think that Lazarus can enter into their lives and change them?

Funny that the Rich Man wants Lazarus to change life for his brothers but the Rich Man was unwilling to change Lazarus’ life at any point.

Most of us don’t live in gated homes with high fences that keep out the urban hustle and bustle.  At least not quite so obviously.  Here as a church, we don’t have you scan a membership card to set foot on the property.  But I think this story raises ALL kinds of questions for us today.

Who waits outside your door?

Who waits outside OUR door?

What is it that they need?

How do we know?

It simply would not have been enough for the Rich Man to open his gate and wave Lazarus in.  You see, in doing so, Lazarus might have been fed, he might have become clean.  But the circumstances that surrounded him as a poor man living on the street would not have been altered.  The economic systems or the health care crises or pipelines to debt and imprisonment that were part of his lived reality would not have been changed.  And surely if there was one man laying moaning in the gutter in need of love and human relationship, there were others.  And the Rich Man would still be the Rich Man…he also would not be changed so much by the experience, sitting in his gated property, surrounded by comfort.

No…I think that just as it would not work for Lazarus to show up to the Rich Man’s family in their home and warn them of the wrath to come, I think it would not be enough for the Rich Man to open the gate.

I think the Rich Man needed to step out of his own comfort to be next to Lazarus.  To see from Lazarus’ perspective, sitting there on the ground amid the filth and grime and traffic, the Rich Man would have to sit in the dirt, understand Lazarus’ hunger and ailments. The Rich Man would have to be with someone he understood as “other.”

I think it is true that as humans, many of us are super uncomfortable risking our own security and comfort for another.  That is real and normal and understandable.  It is part of our survival instinct.  We rather like to surround ourselves with comfort and safety.  Maybe we don’t technically have walls and gates, but we still have ways we guard ourselves, our hearts, our time, our possessions, our attitudes and opinions.

I spent much of this past week in Kansas City at a gathering of United Methodists at Church of the Resurrection.  This is the 22,000 member congregation led by Rev. Adam Hamilton, author of many, many, many, many books and studies.  Normally church leaders gather once a year for the purpose of learning the very best of how to nurture vital congregations. 

But this year, we gathered to have a different conversation.  A conversation about hope for rebuilding a denomination that, while historically powerful and fruitful, is currently wracked by disagreement about how we treat specific groups of people. Right now, that group of people identify as LGBTQ.

This isn’t the first time we’ve wrestled with disagreements about who belongs and who doesn’t.  John Wesley’s last letter before his death is believed to be written to William Wilberforce, a British man who actively fought the institution of slavery, in which Wesley urges Wilberforce to “Go on, in the name of God and in the power of his might, till even American slavery (the vilest that ever saw the sun) shall vanish away before it.”

In spite of John Wesley’s rejection of slavery, the church that was birthed by his vision in the US spun off several exclusively black churches because segregation was so entrenched, and the Methodist Episcopal Church split in 1845, in part because of a Bishop who would not free his slaves. It is not until 1939 that these two churches, along with a third branch – the Methodist Protestant Church merge, but only by creating a “compromise,” a central conference that segregates black churches into their own governance structure…so while you could be black and Methodist, you still belonged to a “lesser” part of the church. 

It turns out that wasn’t resolved until 1968 when we became The United Methodist Church and the central conference of black churches in the US was dissolved by action of the General Conference. Local annual conferences, including our own, had led the way since the mid-50s, actively working beyond the rules of the wider church at that time (perhaps you could say in a protest movement) to integrate locally.

So…during a meeting this week that included somewhere around 2000 folks in Kansas City, it was notable that there were no Black Bishops present. The number of persons of color in attendance was really, really low. Often times, panels included no African American representation.  Some people asked where our African American brothers and sisters were in this current conversation. At some point, leaders answered that the African American leaders, particularly bishops, had been invited, but had not been able/chosen to attend.

Ah…you know I sit with these texts and see the world through that lens all week long as I prepare to be with you in worship.

When that answer came from the stage, this text slammed into my heart.

When colleagues were asking, “where are the Black leaders,” and the answer was we invited them and we didn’t come, I was deep in this story.  This story of the Rich Man and of Lazarus.

It isn’t enough to invite folks into our banquet.  It isn’t enough to say “the door was open…”  It isn’t enough to say “our table has always been open…if they show up, of course we will dine with them.”

It just isn’t enough.  That is really clear in Luke’s gospel. 

Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.

AND

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

Here’s the thing.  It’s not enough to say our door is open. It’s not enough to say our table is wide.  We are CALLED to go out and walk with anyone we consider “Other.”

We have to walk out the door.

We have to leave our table and sit next to the person that waits outside the gate.  Our gate. My gate. Your gate.

We have to bring the conversation to them. Actually, we need to invite them to suggest the real conversation to be had.

Because only then can we know how to use our gifts along with them to build the Kingdom of God.

In leaving the comfort of our house, we actually enter into the work God is already doing with the poor and the oppressed, the underserved, the marginalized.

What if the Rich Man had left his house to get to know the ailing, hungry Lazarus who was right outside his gate?

Maybe the Lazarus who was gay.

Or maybe the Lazarus who spoke a foreign language, who was a stranger in the land.

Or maybe the Lazarus who didn’t read and receive scripture in the same way that the Rich Man did.

Or maybe the Lazarus who calls God by another name, like “Allah.”

Or maybe the Lazarus whose political views were wildly different.

It’s time we all go to the gate.

And leave our comfort zone.

And hear what God is doing in the world.

And how we are called to join in.

I close with a refrain from the Psalmist, heard earlier:

Happy are those whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the LORD their God,
who made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them; who keeps faith forever;
who executes justice for the oppressed; who gives food to the hungry. The LORD sets the prisoners free;
the LORD opens the eyes of the blind. The LORD lifts up those who are bowed down; the LORD loves the righteous.
The LORD watches over the strangers; he upholds the orphan and the widow, but the way of the wicked he brings to ruin.
The LORD will reign forever, your God, O Zion, for all generations. Praise the LORD!

It’s time to be the hands and feet, the face of God in the world.

May it be so.

Amen.

Sources: http://www.umc.org/resources/timeline-methodism-in-black-and-white