September 25: Break Through to the Other Kingdom

Jeremiah 32:1-3a, 6-15
Psalm 91:1-6, 14-16
1 Timothy 6:6-19
Luke 16:19-31

September 25, 2016: Proper 21C

Much thanks to Helen Montgomery Debevoise for her insight into this text:

Once upon a time in a tale of two worlds,

in a tale of two worlds within two worlds

there were two men: a Rich Man and Lazarus.

At first the two worlds seem to simply be: this mortal life and the life beyond this one.

And death is the gateway from one life to the next.

The Rich Man, in the mortal life, has all that he needs plus more….much more. We do not know much about him, not even his name.  What we do know is that this Rich Man has invested all that he has into his own self.  He has invested into his comfort, his desire, his pleasure, his luxury, his wants, his temptations, his preferences.  We might say he’s living the American Dream. 

And then there is Lazarus. Unlike the Rich Man, we know his name. Lazarus is a Greek name meaning: God is my help.  And the other thing we know about Lazarus is his need. He thirsts; he hungers; he has wounds on his body.  All Lazarus is able to do is lie at the gate, looking toward the abundance of the Rich man, and hoping that some crumbs, some of that audacious abundance, will trickle down to him, meeting his extreme need.

We don’t know how Lazarus came to this low point. We don’t know if he had bad luck, if he made poor choices, if he was injured and couldn’t earn money, if he blew it all at games of chance, or if he is just plain lazy.  We don’t know why he is so poor and destitute.  Jesus doesn’t tell us; it must not matter.

But it is clear that there are definite boundaries between the worlds of these two men. And it would seem the twain shall never meet.

But then a pivotal event comes along that changes it all.  The moment when the Rich Man realizes that all that he has hoarded, all that he has kept for himself, is just dust in the wind.  None of it is eternal. None of it remains after the pivotal, transformative event: Death.

Death changed it all and turned the two men’s world upside down.  Because when the deaths happened, the wealth was redistributed, and now we have a completely different story.  Now Lazarus is resting, whole and comforted, filled and fed, quenched and at peace, in the bosom of Abraham (Abraham which means the Father of multitude….) A different definition of “rich” arises, a definition that doesn’t require luxury or accomplishments or money or possessions, a meaning that is not bound to position or power or status---but instead an understanding of “riches” that is all about where you place your bets.  Do you put your trust and your security, your hope and your future in what you can achieve, what you can pile up, what you can accomplish…..or do you invest your time, your talent, your treasure in what the Creator can accomplish, what God can secure for us, what Yahweh can make happen? (Lazarus…God is my help)

Beloved, this parable, or at least one level of this parable, is not all that difficult to understand, but it is mighty hard for us to hear.  We don’t want anyone---not even God---to tell us what to do with our money.  But God tells us anyway.  Jesus uses this parable to redefine the meaning of “rich” or at least to provide an alternative understanding for those of us who choose to listen.

But this parable isn’t solely about where you go when you die because this parable is about God’s Kingdom, and God’s Kingdom---if we believe Jesus at all---has already come near.  So what else is going on here?

This is a tale of two worlds: the haves and the have nots or in today’s language: the 1% and the 99%.  Now hear me out: this isn’t about one’s political party---the Gospel doesn’t really care whether you are a Democrat or a Republican, a Socialist or a Libertarian----the Gospel doesn’t proclaim any political party.  The Gospel simply says: Love your neighbor---as you love yourself. Love your neighbor…as Jesus has loved you.

In this parable we hear the Beatitude from Luke 6 lived out: you know the one: “Blessed are the poor…for theirs is the Kingdom of God.”

Lazarus, the poor, inherits the Kingdom of God---resting in the bosom of Abraham. The nameless Rich Man, on the other hand, chooses eternal separation, eternal torment, eternal thirst and hunger.  And Death is the transformative moment.

But remember, this ultimately is not about where you go when you die. This is all about where you are while you live.  We don’t have to experience a mortal death to move from one world to the next, one kingdom to the other.  We can rest and experience our restoration in the bosom of Abraham, right now. 

We can know God’s Kingdom right now.  But, only if we are willing to go through the cross. Jesus is not joking around when he says we must pick up our cross---an instrument of death---if we are to follow him into new life.

Death is a necessity to move from this worldly kingdom into God’s Kingdom, and this parable meddles with our personal lives far beyond just our money and possessions.

Let’s take a look at our characters again.  The Rich Man doesn’t seem to resent Lazarus or hate him or even feel much of anything toward him.  In fact, he doesn’t even see him.  It is as if Lazarus doesn’t exist.  Even when the Rich Man is dead and in Hades, he still won’t talk directly to Lazarus. Lazarus is a pawn he tries to direct to do his bidding---through Abraham, of course, but not someone with whom he will interact.  That’s simply the way things are in this Rich Man’s world.  The Haves need not concern themselves with the Have nots---except when the Haves want the Have Nots to do something for them. While the Rich man’s death changed his circumstances greatly, it didn’t seem to transform his heart one little bit.

U.S. Senator Cory Booker said: “The most perverted kind of privilege is when there’s a serious problem that doesn’t affect you personally, so to you, it’s not a serious problem.”

·      4.8 million Syrian refugees

·      15.9% rate of poverty in America; 13.2% in the State of Wisconsin

·      663 million people lack access to clean and safe water in our world

·      Every day 90 people die from gun violence in the United States

·      Despite the fact that violent crime in our nation has been on the decline, the country’s incarceration rate has tripled since 1980.  Why?  One reason is we now have for-profit prisons which often stipulate that states must keep the occupancy rate at 90%

• Alcohol-related crashes killed 162 people in Wisconsin and injured nearly 2,700 in 2014.

These are statements of reality describing the world in which we live…….but we can choose to live differently. We can choose another Kingdom.

As individuals, and more importantly as communities, as a society, what deaths are we willing to experience so we can move from this world into another one---what are we prepared to nail to the cross in order to experience a new life?  A life where there is no hunger, no thirst, where people see one another, take care of one another, share the abundance so that all might have enough without asking about worthiness?

Because this is God’s promise---this is the Good News that Jesus asks us to set our hopes on, to place our bets on, to invest in with everything we’ve got and all that we are. 

If we believe God’s Kingdom come, God’s will be done, then it is time to own up to our ways, our beliefs, our laws, our policies, our systems, and our views that prevent us from seeing those in need.  And not just seeing them, but choosing to do something to change their reality.  We need not be rich.  We not need be a large or a powerful community. It may be our voice or our vote that is needed to help our neighbor.  It may be our labor that is required to bring about justice. Our time may be the donation that gives birth to a new path for a brother or sister.  And, yes, it may be what’s in our wallet that brings about the sustaining breath for another.

Robert Frost wrote a famous poem called “A Mending Wall.”  In it he writes:

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,

That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,

And spills the upper boulders in the sun;

And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.

Like the neighbors in the poem, we spend a lot of our time putting up walls, mending them, keeping them strong and sure---as in today’s parable, we maintain the definite boundaries between us and them.  In his poem, Frost questions this aspect of human nature, of building walls and writes:

Before I built a wall I'd ask to know

What I was walling in or walling out,

And to whom I was like to give offence.

The reality is when we wall off another person or persons because of differences in citizenship, creed, ethnicity, worldview, socioeconomic status, health, age, gender, sexual orientation, political allegiance or any other aspect of our humanity---when we build walls----we wall out God. For God is the Creator of all, and all have been made in God’s image. 

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,

That wants it down."

Beloved, God is the “something that doesn’t love a wall.”  God sent Jesus to break down all the barriers---to widen the portal so two can pass abreast.  The life and ministry, the sacrificial love and death of Jesus blew the walls down. God has already created the passageway between this worldly kingdom we are born into and the Godly Kingdom in which we are meant to live. 

And now God calls to us: Break through!  Break through the walls and come into the Kingdom.  I have shown you how---Jesus shows you how to live, to choose, to act, and to be in order to share and redistribute all that has been given so everyone has enough. 

Now is the time. Let us march in the light of God and follow Jesus as we take up our cross---put to death those parts of our lives and beings that exist to create walls and division---and let us serve and live as co-creators with God, building up the Kingdom we inherit, the Kingdom in which we are meant to live.  The beautiful and peaceable Kingdom of God.

Leave, Go Out, Search, Find: Sunday, September 11, 2016

Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28
Psalm 14
1 Timothy 1:12-17
Luke 15:1-10

He came in seeking help.  I sat down with him. Sometimes the people who come in for help just want someone to listen, many times they need help with gas, or bills, or food…..And usually, even if they come in for help with gas, or bills, or food…..they really want someone to listen.

After I had listened, and we had shared a bit with one another, and we figured out how I could help him from the resources that this community provides, I told him what I tell pretty much everyone who comes in:  “I have one more resource; in fact, it is the best thing I’ve got going….it’s this community….the people of this church.  You know,” I told him, “all of us struggle, all of us need help from time to time and what these people are good about is walking with one another through the tough and the good times.  This community is the best thing I can offer.”

He smiled and said, “Thanks, but you don’t want me.”

“What do you mean we don’t want you? Of course we do.”

“Nah,” he said. “You don’t.” And then he gave me a kind-of smile.

I said, “Why do you think we don’t want you?”

“I told you,” he said. “You heard how I’ve been stupid, messed up, the dumb choices I’ve made. I’m a mess. You don’t want me.  This is a nice church with nice people.”

I sighed.  “Friend,” I said, “everyone who belongs to this community, this church, all these nice people…..we’re just people who have messed up, made mistakes, and bad choices.  You belong right here with us.”

He smiled.  Indulged my invitation and the specifics of different opportunities coming up when he could join us.  He thanked me.  And went on his way.

It was not the first time I have heard the idea that somehow the person in front of me isn’t good enough, isn’t worthy to join us on a Sunday morning or to be a part of our community.  It probably won’t be the last.

I really struggle with this word “worthy.” It finds its way into our Book of Common Prayer: In a prayer at the Eucharistic we say: “we are not worthy to gather up the crumbs from under thy table…” In morning and evening prayer’s general thanksgiving we pray: “We your unworthy servants….” Frankly, friends, I think the authors of the Prayer Book have got it all wrong.  I think proclaiming our unworthiness….or anyone’s unworthiness as far as God is concerned…..is rubbish. 

And here’s why I think we need to do away with the idea that we, or anyone else, is unworthy when it comes to church, when it comes to God, when it comes to belonging…..the Bible tells me so.

In chapter 1 of Genesis, God looked over Creation—including humanity---and God pronounced it: Very Good.  Worthy to be redeemed, worthy to be loved, worthy to be known by God, loved by God, and in relationship with God. When Jesus gave his life so that all might have life, Jesus made it clear: all are worthy.  Jesus didn’t extend his sacrificial love for a few, for some, for the 90%.  Jesus gave his all for all.  Each and every one because each and every one is worthy. 

Now, I do believe no one is deserving of this immense, jaw-dropping love of God, I do believe we can not earn it, but that’s why this is grace.  We don’t deserve it, but God obviously believes we are worthy of it.  In God’s saving and redemptive actions, God says we are worthy, each and every one.  Who are we to say otherwise?

So instead, like Paul, we say: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners-- of whom I am the foremost. But for that very reason I received mercy, so that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display the utmost patience, making me an example to those who would come to believe in him for eternal life. 

While I am proud of what we have to offer, while I am inspired by how we give to those in need, and yes, I think it’s important to open our doors and be a place where people trust they can come and find help, today’s Gospel is telling us there is more to our ministry than this. 

What do we do about the lost---the ones who feel as if they are not worthy to walk through our doors on a Sunday morning?  The ones who think that somehow we, us nice people in a nice church, don’t want them to sit down next to us and join us at God’s table or that we are not interested in joining them at their table? Surely, we will not just be okay with this reality.  Surely we are willing to do something, to do more.  And the more, the something, isn’t just left to our imagination.  No, beloved, it has been made clear.

We follow Jesus, the shepherd.  The One who leaves, goes after, and finds.  And upon finding, comes back and rejoices in community.  We follow Jesus, who as the woman in today’s Gospel, lights the lamp, sweeps the house, and searches until she finds.  And upon finding, comes back and rejoices in community.  Like Jesus, the shepherd, the woman, we are not satisfied with 90%; we are not satisfied with 99%.  We recognize that all are worthy of finding.  We recognize that we are called to leave, to go after, to light the lamp and sweep the house, to search and to find. This is who we are; this is part of what it means to be the Church, the living Body of Christ on earth.

And goodness knows, we have our job cut out for us.  In Stevens Point alone, over 40% have said they have no connection to a faith community.  There are certainly enough brothers and sisters to whom we are not connected---far more than the 1% or the 10% in today’s Gospel, to whom we are called to leave and find.  And all these brothers and sisters of ours have many reasons why they do not belong, why they are just fine being unconnected.  Some feel unworthy; some feel unwelcome; some have been hurt; some are just bored with church and find it irrelevant.  Like Jeremiah, God’s prophet, we can lament about all those who do not show up, who mock us, who scoff at our belief. We can complain and mutter. 

Or, as God always does—no matter how lost God’s people are---we can go.

We can go and bring community to them, right where they are, just as they are….like Jesus, leave and go after, search and find.  Not to judge them or fix them or save them. Not to convince them that our doctrine is right or that they need to confess Jesus as their personal savior.  But, like Jesus, we go and find. We listen.  We love. We serve. We build relationships and make connections. We break bread with sinner and Pharisees, the learned and the lowly.  Not because we are more worthy, but because all are worthy.  Not because we are nice people, but because we are God’s people. And not because the lost need us, but because we need the lost.

The wholeness of the Body of Christ in the world today depends upon our connection to one another. For it is together that we are the living body of Christ in the world.  Alone we are members of the Body; together we are the Body. Our wholeness is dependent upon the re-membering, the re-connecting of all of God’s people to one another and to God. 

We do this because this is who God is----lover, life-giver, redeemer, the One who makes holy, the One who restores.  This is who Jesus is.  And as Christians, this is who we are.

At Intercession, we have made this our Vision---the path we are intentionally taking in order to be the Church in this time when going to church is not the default, when being a Christian is less and less the norm.  It isn’t time to mutter, complain or fear.  It is time to go.  We are sent, sent by this God who uses unexpected people, providing what is needed in the moment, so that all may stand in their worthiness and be restored by the light and love of Christ.  We are a people who gather to rejoice and give thanks and we are a people who are sent. As Keith Eitel, a seminary missions professor, used to say: “The light that shines the farthest will also shine the brightest at home.”