Trinity 17 - Lazarus and Dives

There is an old story about Heaven and Hell that you may already know. A man dies and goes to Hell and is surprised to find that there are huge banqueting tables, groaning under the weight of food, which doesn’t really fit with his picture of eternal deprivation. Then he finds that the only thing to eat with are three-foot chopsticks, then he realises that this is a particularly good form of eternal deprivation. He can see the food and smell it, but he just can’t get it into his mouth. After a few aeons, he qualifies for parole, and asks the Almighty if he can go up to heaven for a few moments to see what it is like up there. He request is granted; but when he arrives he finds it looks just like Hell: full of banqueting tables groaning with food, and yes there are only three-foot chopsticks to eat with. “So hang on” he says, “I don’t quite get this, what’s the difference between heaven and hell?” “Well, you see, in Heaven, we feed each other”.

The contrast between heaven and hell in today’s Gospel story is more conventional. First we see heaven and hell on earth: The rich man in his sumptuous clothing and endless feasting, contrasted by the poor man sleeping in his doorway, starving and dying. The dogs coming to lick his sores is not meant to be a sign of natural compassion here, but to the Jewish hearer this would have been a terrible thing, making Lazarus unclean beyond imaginings. The years pass, and Lazarus dies, and the roles are reversed. Lazarus in translation means “God has helped” and “Dives” is simply Latin for “rich man”.

As we start the long wind down to the end of ordinary time, we can see that the readings are getting more direct – and today we are being given a simple message through the readings.

And that message for me is the stark realisation that ‘tomorrow is too late’ when we are thinking about matters of faith. Human nature is such that we are much more likely to put off the things we find uncomfortable - fully believing that there will be time to redress the balance.

In the Old Testament reading we are reminded that God will deal with those who put pride and security before all else. The part-time prophet AMOS knew this, and he is quite clear about the way we should order our lives. I say part time, because nearly three thousand years ago AMOS was a prophet, shepherd and tree surgeon (owning flocks of sheep and sycamore groves). Amos' message was, perhaps understandably, unwelcome in Israel. Not only was he a foreigner from the southern kingdom, but his prophecies of doom were completely at odds with the prevailing political climate of hope and prosperity.

The New Testament reading with its’ stark injunction that appears elsewhere in the Bible, “For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it.” However, for many people living in the world means having little or no goods to speak of.

And just as we thought it was safe to peek over the pew again, we are hit with the Gospel reading. It reminds us in glorious Technicolor that there are many Lazarus’ sat at the gate – at our gate, and with our wealth comes great responsiblilty.

This reading reminds me of two things – the Lazaruses I have met, in different situations – many of whom that are still with us, and many who have gone to their reward.

Lazarus slept under the tree in my garden when I was training for ministry. I used to make him tea, and he never brought the mugs back. I used to make him sandwiches, but needed to give him paper plates. He feasted on what was thrown away in the street, whilst I feasted on food brought half way across the world to my plate.

Several Lazarus’ never let me do a communion service when I turned up to the hostel, but insisted I watched the afternoon film, usually a western, and would ask me questions about faith, life, justice, death and the absence of good things.

Why does this happen, what do we believe, have we missed the mark?

It reminds me of the verse we used to sing in that perennial favourite “all things bright and beautiful”, “the rich man in his castle, the poor man at his gate, God made them high and lowly, and ordered there estate”. This is of course a topsy-turvy inversion of Kingdom values. We don’t sing that anymore, but that was the prevailing wisdom at some time in the history of our faith, even though the parable of Lazarus and Dives hasn’t changed.

Today we are planning for the future of our churches, and entrusting our futures to God – we are praying that we won’t step over too many Lazaruses and we will learn to address the issues that need addressing. It is of course a task that requires courage and fortitude – it is difficult to dream dreams and go against the grain to plan and dream.

Perhaps that it is why we will have a select group of pioneers rather than a full quota from all our churches that make up our one benefice. It’s not for the faint-hearted.

Today is about being brave, to be a hero for your church.

The story we heard this morning of Lazarus has a traditional version where he is granted his request and the people are told about him – presumably so that they can amend their ways, and the good will come out eventually.

In the story that Jesus is telling, the request was not granted. A great chasm has been fixed between the men. Beyond all else, this is of course a story about judgement, and how there might come a time when we won’t be able to put right all the things we should have.

With so many good causes competing for our attention and generosity, how difficult is it to see the genuine Lazaruses sleeping in doorways, pale and undernourished, with only a dog for comfort?

Jesus is telling his hearers that it is not that the people don’t know, but that they can’t hear. The sceptics, the scribes and the Pharisees are looking for a sign. They want Lazarus sent from heaven to warn people how things might be, but they have signs a plenty, and they ignore them, and they probably won’t take any notice even if somebody did come back from the dead (this hypothesis of Jesus he tested later and found that He was right).

Do we keep the food AND the chopsticks to ourselves and starve, or do we feed each other and live?

There is an old story about Heaven and Hell that you may already know. A man dies and goes to Hell and is surprised to find that there are huge banqueting tables, groaning under the weight of food, which doesn’t really fit with his picture of eternal deprivation. Then he finds that the only thing to eat with are three-foot chopsticks, then he realises that this is a particularly good form of eternal deprivation. He can see the food and smell it, but he just can’t get it into his mouth. After a few aeons, he qualifies for parole, and asks the Almighty if he can go up to heaven for a few moments to see what it is like up there. He request is granted; but when he arrives he finds it looks just like Hell: full of banqueting tables groaning with food, and yes there are only three-foot chopsticks to eat with. “So hang on” he says, “I don’t quite get this, what’s the difference between heaven and hell?” “Well, you see, in Heaven, we feed each other”.

The contrast between heaven and hell in today’s Gospel story is more conventional. First we see heaven and hell on earth: The rich man in his sumptuous clothing and endless feasting, contrasted by the poor man sleeping in his doorway, starving and dying. The dogs coming to lick his sores is not meant to be a sign of natural compassion here, but to the Jewish hearer this would have been a terrible thing, making Lazarus unclean beyond imaginings. The years pass, and Lazarus dies, and the roles are reversed. Lazarus in translation means “God has helped” and “Dives” is simply Latin for “rich man”.

As we start the long wind down to the end of ordinary time, we can see that the readings are getting more direct – and today we are being given a simple message through the readings.

And that message for me is the stark realisation that ‘tomorrow is too late’ when we are thinking about matters of faith. Human nature is such that we are much more likely to put off the things we find uncomfortable - fully believing that there will be time to redress the balance.

In the Old Testament reading we are reminded that God will deal with those who put pride and security before all else. The part-time prophet AMOS knew this, and he is quite clear about the way we should order our lives. I say part time, because nearly three thousand years ago AMOS was a prophet, shepherd and tree surgeon (owning flocks of sheep and sycamore groves). Amos' message was, perhaps understandably, unwelcome in Israel. Not only was he a foreigner from the southern kingdom, but his prophecies of doom were completely at odds with the prevailing political climate of hope and prosperity.

The New Testament reading with its’ stark injunction that appears elsewhere in the Bible, “For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it.” However, for many people living in the world means having little or no goods to speak of.

And just as we thought it was safe to peek over the pew again, we are hit with the Gospel reading. It reminds us in glorious Technicolor that there are many Lazarus’ sat at the gate – at our gate, and with our wealth comes great responsiblilty.

This reading reminds me of two things – the Lazaruses I have met, in different situations – many of whom that are still with us, and many who have gone to their reward.

Lazarus slept under the tree in my garden when I was training for ministry. I used to make him tea, and he never brought the mugs back. I used to make him sandwiches, but needed to give him paper plates. He feasted on what was thrown away in the street, whilst I feasted on food brought half way across the world to my plate.

Several Lazarus’ never let me do a communion service when I turned up to the hostel, but insisted I watched the afternoon film, usually a western, and would ask me questions about faith, life, justice, death and the absence of good things.

Why does this happen, what do we believe, have we missed the mark?

It reminds me of the verse we used to sing in that perennial favourite “all things bright and beautiful”, “the rich man in his castle, the poor man at his gate, God made them high and lowly, and ordered there estate”. This is of course a topsy-turvy inversion of Kingdom values. We don’t sing that anymore, but that was the prevailing wisdom at some time in the history of our faith, even though the parable of Lazarus and Dives hasn’t changed.

Today we are planning for the future of our churches, and entrusting our futures to God – we are praying that we won’t step over too many Lazaruses and we will learn to address the issues that need addressing. It is of course a task that requires courage and fortitude – it is difficult to dream dreams and go against the grain to plan and dream.

Perhaps that it is why we will have a select group of pioneers rather than a full quota from all our churches that make up our one benefice. It’s not for the faint-hearted.

Today is about being brave, to be a hero for your church.

We have two more heroes with us today, for Neil and Ray it is a new start and we have agreed to an important addition to the work they will do on behalf of the Church of God. They have realised that Tomorrow is indeed to late and have answered with prayer and action – that unstoppable force.

It isn’t right that I speak too long this morning.

The story we heard this morning of Lazarus has a traditional version where he is granted his request and the people are told about him – presumably so that they can amend their ways, and the good will come out eventually.

In the story that Jesus is telling, the request was not granted. A great chasm has been fixed between the men. Beyond all else, this is of course a story about judgement, and how there might come a time when we won’t be able to put right all the things we should have.

With so many good causes competing for our attention and generosity, how difficult is it to see the genuine Lazaruses sleeping in doorways, pale and undernourished, with only a dog for comfort?

Jesus is telling his hearers that it is not that the people don’t know, but that they can’t hear. The sceptics, the scribes and the Pharisees are looking for a sign. They want Lazarus sent from heaven to warn people how things might be, but they have signs a plenty, and they ignore them, and they probably won’t take any notice even if somebody did come back from the dead (this hypothesis of Jesus he tested later and found that He was right).

Do we keep the food AND the chopsticks to ourselves and starve, or do we feed each other and live?