Tag: Rich man and Lazarus

Woe to Selfish Religion

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year CLeave a comment

Amos 6:1, 4–7; Luke 16:19–31

If you missed it, some Christians spent the first part of last week preparing for “the Rapture” which was supposed to have happened on Tuesday. Videos were posted of excited believers talking about getting their affairs in order, sharing their plans for their property and pets, in the event that they get swept up in the sky to meet Jesus, leaving all non-believers on earth to suffer tribulation.

This wild belief we call “the rapture” didn’t come from any responsible interpretation of scripture, but from a vision of a young Scottish woman named Margaret McDonald who, in 1830, dreamed about people flying away to heaven to escape hell on earth. Her dream was shaped by preachers who taught that the world’s problems were just too great, too hard, too much for human beings to solve.

That dream later made its way into the Scofield Study Bible, then into movies and novels like The Late Great Planet Earth and the Left Behind series, and of course, into pulpits across America. Though based on a gross misreading of scripture, it is often preached as gospel truth, terrifying folks into “getting saved.”

Before I was baptized when I was eleven, I remember lying awake worried I’d wake up to find that my parents had been raptured away, leaving me behind to raise my little brother and sister. However, I did take some comfort thinking that since Nana and Granddaddy didn’t go to church, and granddaddy drank beer, maybe they’d still be around to take care of us.

Another teaching that haunted me as a child came from Jesus’ parable of “the Rich Man and Lazarus.” I can still see myself on those hard wooden pews as preachers painted vivid pictures of the flames of hell. If I didn’t “get saved,” they said I would one day gaze into heaven from my eternal home in hell, begging for a sip of water.

The message was clear: unless I walked down that aisle, I would either die and suffer forever in hell, or be left behind after the rapture to suffer the tribulation.

Notice what both teachings did. By telling us that faith was about escaping suffering, they took all the focus off addressing the suffering and pain of this world. They made us forget that Jesus actually taught us to live a way of love that relieves suffering here and now. They drained away any responsibility we might have to work in our broken world for justice, peace, and mercy.

And maybe that was the point, the whole scheme all along. Because following Jesus is not easy. Following Jesus means helping people like Lazarus. Following Jesus means always standing in solidarity with the poor and marginalized. Following Jesus means challenging systems of greed and injustice that keep some people feasting while others starve. And that is much harder than saying a quick prayer to escape hell.

But the gospel was never intended to be an easy way out. The gospel has never been about escaping suffering. On the contrary, the gospel has always been about suffering with and for the poor, because it is good news for the poor. It is liberation for the oppressed. It is God’s vision of justice, mercy, and peace on earth. It is repenting from fear, selfishness, and greed to embrace love, selflessness, and generosity.

Let’s return to the parable. An unnamed rich man dressed in purple feasted every day. At his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, longing for crumbs. Even the dogs showed him more compassion than the rich man.

When both die, Lazarus is carried into Abraham’s bosom while the rich man suffers torment. But notice that, even then, the rich man doesn’t repent. He still treats Lazarus as a servant: “Send him to me with some water.” “Send him to warn my brothers.” He never once says, “I am sorry for ignoring Lazarus. I am sorry for building a gate to shut him out. I am sorry I closed my eyes to his suffering.”

There is no repentance. Only entitlement.

And Abraham’s reply is devastating: “They have Moses and the prophets. If they will not listen to them, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.”

That’s the tragedy of this parable. It’s not simply about torment after death. It’s about the refusal to listen and to change. People can hear the prophets, even witness resurrection, yet still cling to greed and selfishness. People can be easily brainwashed into thinking that faith is about saving themselves, not about transforming the world.

And so today, many have been brainwashed by preachers, politicians, and propaganda machines into believing the gospel has nothing to do with loving Lazarus at the gate, nothing to do with compassion for immigrants, nothing to do with healthcare, housing, or hunger, nothing to do with injustice. “Just say the ‘sinners’ prayer,’ secure your ticket, and let your neighbor take care of himself.”

But Jesus says otherwise.

Through this parable, Jesus is giving the same warning Amos gave centuries before:

“Woe to those at ease in Zion. Woe to those who lounge on ivory couches, who eat lambs from the flock, who drink wine by the bowlful, and anoint themselves with the finest oils, but are not grieved over the ruin of the nation.”

Amos saw people living in luxury while their neighbors suffered. Jesus saw it too: a rich man feasting while Lazarus starved at his gate. Both are indictments of those who refuse to listen and change.

And this is not just ancient history. This is us.

Today, we live in a society where billionaires launch rockets into space while children go to bed hungry. Wine is consumed by the bowlful while communities like Flint and Jackson are poisoned by contaminated water. People recline on ivory couches while their neighbors suffer.

And today, we see friends, neighbors, even family so brainwashed by lies that nothing can change their minds. Someone could shoot a man on Fifth Avenue, and they still wouldn’t change.

Behind the gates of fascism today is Lazarus. Lazarus is our LGBTQ neighbor under attack by lawmakers and preachers who twist scripture into a weapon.

Lazarus is the immigrant locked in detention centers, or drowned at sea, while politicians build careers on cruelty.

Lazarus is the scientist and teacher defunded and mocked so that ignorance can rule.

Lazarus is the journalist, librarian, or truth-teller threatened for speaking up.

Lazarus is the Black and brown neighbor targeted by violence and mass incarceration.

Lazarus is the Palestinian neighbor starving in the rubble of Gaza.

Lazarus is always the poor—always—while the rich anoint themselves with oil.

And churches are complicit by clinging to a false gospel of escape-from-it-all.

Preach healthcare as a human right and you’ll be told, “That’s socialism.”

Preach feeding the hungry and you’ll hear, “That’s enabling laziness.”

Preach racial justice and they’ll say, “That’s too political.”

They’ll say anything to avoid listening and changing. “Just focus on getting people ready for eternity!” they’ll say.

But Jesus says: that’s not the gospel. The gospel is about loving Lazarus at the gate. The gospel is not about escaping hell. The gospel is about making life less hellish now. The gospel is about God’s kingdom coming on earth as it is in heaven.

And let’s be honest: being told you are wrong is tough to hear. It’s hard to confront our comfort, our privilege, and our complicity. It’s hard to admit, “I was wrong. I shut my gate. I ignored Lazarus.”

But that’s the hard and narrow way of the gospel. The good news is not escape from this world. The good news is that God is redeeming this world, and invites us to hear that news, to repent and to join. The good news is that Jesus has already crossed the great chasm to bring heaven’s love into earth’s suffering. The good news is that resurrection is real, that life can triumph over death, love over hate, justice over greed.

The gospel is more demanding than the sermons that once terrified us, but it’s also more beautiful. For it’s not about fear. It’s about love. It’s not about escape. It is about engagement.

It is about getting up from our couches of comfort and walking out to the gate where Lazarus is lying. It is about opening the gate wide and saying, “You are not left behind. You are not forgotten. You are my neighbor, and I am called to liberate you, to love you.”

The gospel calls us to open the gates of our churches, not just for Sunday worship but for Monday mercy and Tuesday justice, everyday peace-making. The gospel calls us to open the gates of our politics, our budgets, our neighborhoods, so that the poor are lifted, the hungry are fed, the sick are cared for, the oppressed are liberated.

This is not charity. This is not pity. This is gospel. This is resurrection life breaking into a world addicted to death and people addicted to an easy way out.

Our scripture lessons present us with a choice. Will we sit behind our gates, pretending nothing can change? Or will we rise to the call of Amos, of Jesus, of the resurrection itself?

The world is aching today for a church that will live the gospel. The world is waiting for Christians who will trade their rapture charts for justice marches, their escape plans for solidarity plans, and their fear of hell for the hard work of making life less hellish for Lazarus at the gate.

The Spirit of God is calling us right now to repent of selfish religion and embrace liberating love. To turn from the false gospel of escape and to embrace the true gospel of engagement.

The Spirit is pleading with us to listen. Listen to Moses and the prophets. Listen to Amos crying out from the marketplace. Listen to Jesus telling of Lazarus at the gate. Listen to resurrection itself”

“Don’t harden your hearts! Don’t cling to selfish religion! Don’t mistake fear for faith!”

For there’s no problem in the world too great, too hard, or too much for the disciples of the Christ!

Because here’s the promise: if we choose love, if we listen, if we take Lazarus’ hand at the gate, we will find God already there, already at work, already making all things new.

So, disciples of Christ:

Let’s open the gate!

Let’s step through the fear!

Let’s take Lazarus’ hand!

And let’s walk together into God’s new creation!

For the good news is this:

God is making all things new.

And God is calling us, here and now, to join in that work.

Amen.

Pastoral Prayer

God of all nations and peoples,

we gather today with hearts full of both gratitude and grief.

We give thanks for life, for breath, for the gift of community.

We give thanks for beauty—in the turning of the seasons,

in the laughter of children, in the resilience of your people.

Yet, we also bring to you our burdens.

We pray for those who are sick and struggling,

for those who carry heavy grief,

for those living with fear, with hunger, with loneliness.

We pray for communities torn apart by violence and war,

for families separated by borders,

for the earth groaning under fire, flood, and storm.

God, we confess how easy it is to turn away from pain,

to shield our eyes from suffering,

to harden our hearts to injustice.

But you have called us to love our neighbors as ourselves.

You have called us to seek justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with you.

So today, O Lord, give us the courage to see as you see,

to love as you love, to live as your children, bound together in one human family.

Where there is despair, make us bearers of hope.

Where there is hatred, make us instruments of peace.

Where there is apathy, stir us to act with compassion.

We offer all our prayers—spoken and unspoken—in the name of the One who came that we might have life, and have it abundantly,

Amen.

Pastoral Prayer

God of all nations and peoples,

we gather today with hearts full of both gratitude and grief.

We give thanks for life, for breath, for the gift of community.

We give thanks for beauty—in the turning of the seasons,

in the laughter of children, in the resilience of your people.

Yet, we also bring to you our burdens.

We pray for those who are sick and struggling,

for those who carry heavy grief,

for those living with fear, with hunger, with loneliness.

We pray for communities torn apart by violence and war,

for families separated by borders,

for the earth groaning under fire, flood, and storm.

God, we confess how easy it is to turn away from pain,

to shield our eyes from suffering,

to harden our hearts to injustice.

But you have called us to love our neighbors as ourselves.

You have called us to seek justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with you.

So today, O Lord, give us the courage to see as you see,

to love as you love, to live as your children, bound together in one human family.

Where there is despair, make us bearers of hope.

Where there is hatred, make us instruments of peace.

Where there is apathy, stir us to act with compassion.

We offer all our prayers—spoken and unspoken—in the name of the One who came that we might have life, and have it abundantly, Amen. 

Invitation to Communion

Beloved, this table is not a table of ivory and luxury—it is the table of Christ.
Here, there is no rich man and poor man, no gate to divide us, no crumbs and banquets—only bread broken for all, only a cup poured out for all.

At this table, Lazarus is lifted up, the hungry are filled, and the comfortable are called to share.

Here we taste a different kind of feast—the feast of God’s justice, the feast of Christ’s love, the feast that anticipates the kingdom where none are excluded.

Come, not because you want to be fed, but because God calls you to be transformed.

Come, for all are welcome.

Invitation to the Offering

In the parable, the rich man ignored Lazarus at his gate. At this moment, Lazarus is still at our gate—in our neighborhoods, in our city, in our world.

Our offering is not a transaction. It is an act of resistance. It says we will not be numb. We will not pass by. We will not close our eyes to suffering.
Through our gifts, we choose to see Lazarus, to love Lazarus, to stand with Lazarus.

Let us give, then, not from ease or obligation, but from compassion, solidarity, and joy in God’s vision of justice.

Benediction

Go forth, people of God,
not with a gospel of escape,
but with the good news of engagement.
Go forth, to open the gates,
to love Lazarus at the threshold,
to stand with the poor, the silenced, and the oppressed.
Go forth, to listen to Moses and the prophets,
to follow Jesus in the way of love,
to live resurrection life in a world addicted to death.
And as you go,
may the God who makes all things new
strengthen you,
the Christ who crossed the great chasm walk beside you,
and the Spirit who will not be silenced empower you—
today, tomorrow, and forevermore. Amen.

We’re Able, but Are We Willing?

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year C2 Comments

bridges not wallsLuke 16:19-31 NRSV

This morning, Jesus is telling another story to teach us something about the nature of God—who God is, how God acts, and what God desires. And as I said last week, we usually find that something in that part of the story that takes us by surprise, shocks us.

It is not difficult to find that moment in this morning’s lesson. But to fully grasp it we need to know a little background about original audience.[i] The Pharisees were notorious for believing and teaching some very bad theology. It is what we call “TV evangelist theology,” “the prosperity gospel” or the “health and wealth gospel.”  It means that we can find favor with God, and if we do, whether it is by living a pure and holy life or by giving generously to God “through a seed offering to the name and address displayed on your television,” then God will bless you with health and wealth. In fact, if you give regularly to their ministry, not only can you expect to receive an autographed copy of their new book, but you can expect to get unexpected checks in the mail! You will not only feel good that you are supporting a great ministry, but you may also be healed your disease or disability.

So here’s the thinking:

Have a lot of money, a great stock-portfolio, growing investments? Blessed. Living from one social security check to the next? Not blessed.

Have plenty of food, nice clothes and a nice car? Blessed. On food stamps, wear worn, old-fashioned clothes, drive a broken down heap? Not so much.

Have great healthcare, low co-pay and deductible? Access to great doctors? Blessed. No insurance, can’t remember your last check-up? Not so blessed.

Nice home? Blessed. Live in the projects? Not blessed.

Healthy and fit, training to run a 5k? Blessed. Sick, in a wheel-chair, homebound? Unblessed.

The sick and the poor, well, they’re just not living right. They make poor decisions in life. I hate to say it, but a lot of them deserve their plight.

The healthy and wealthy, well, evidently they have been living right. They make good and wise decisions, and because of that, they have caught the eye of God and found some divine favor. The poor? The sick? Well, they’ve caught the eye of God too!

And because of that belief, the Pharisees kept the poor and sick at a distance, outside of their circle of friends. They did everything they could do to keep a large gap between them. They were never invited into their homes and they cringed each time one would stumble into the synagogue.

So Jesus tells a story. There was a rich man from a big family who was well-dressed, well-fed and well-off, and of course lived in an exclusive gated community. And right outside of that gate, was this poor, hungry and sick man named Lazarus.

Lazarus would look through the gate and dream of being able to eat just the left-over scraps from the rich man. The only attention and care he received were from the neighborhood dogs that came and licked his wounds. How unblessed is that?

Well, one day, both men died. After all that’s what all men do, don’t they?  All of the money, good fortune in the world can not prevent it. So, no surprise there.

But hold on, because here it comes. The poor man, the man who was seemingly blessed not so much in life, is carried away by the angels to be with Father Abraham.

And, by this time, you know it is really coming. You can almost feel it! If the church pews had seatbelts, I’d be hearing a lot of clicks about now.

The rich man who had a stellar reputation in the community, the one who was seemingly very blessed in life, the one who always bragged to his friends down at the synagogue how good God had been to him, found himself being tormented in Hades.

C’mon Jesus, really?!? Really?

Really! He looks up and sees Abraham with Lazarus at his side and cries out, “Father Abraham, it’s hot as Hades down here! Please send Lazarus to visit me with just a drop of water!”

Abraham responds, “It’s too late. You are no longer able to be comforted. Besides, there is now this chasm, this gate, this wall separating you from us and us from you. And it has been fixed.

Now, isn’t that ironic? In life, the rich man who separated himself, who kept his distance, segregated and protected himself from the likes of people like Lazarus, is now eternally separated from him. And he is unable to do anything about it.

“Ok,” he says, “If I am unable, my five brothers who are still living are very able! Please send Lazarus to warn them so that they will not join me in this God forsaken place!”

Abraham responds: “They’ve already been warned in the scriptures.”

“But, Abraham, look, uh, I know my brothers, and I am afraid that they are not really into Bible Study, but if someone rises from the grave, then they might listen.”

“No,” says Abraham, “If they are not willing to listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced, even if someone rises from the dead.”

Oh – my – word! Jesus is not just speaking to the Pharisees here, is he? Jesus is speaking to crowds of people gathered almost two-thousand years later on Sunday mornings at 11am who proclaim to know someone who has indeed rose from the dead.

It is too late for the rich man. He is no longer able to change—change his theology, change his heart, change his view of his neighbors living on the other side of the tracks. He is no longer able to tear down the wall and begin building bridges. And although his five brothers are able to change, we learn the sad and the scary truth that they are simply not willing to change.

And here we are, as able as those brothers. The truth is, we are more than able. For not only do we have Moses and the Prophets, we also have Matthew, Mark, Luke, John and Paul and the risen Christ himself. So, the scary question is: are we willing? Are we willing to change our theology, our hearts and our actions? Are we willing to tear down the walls and build some bridges?

Yes, we hear bad theology all of the time from the TV preachers, but we also hear it right here in the local church. And sometimes it comes out of our very own mouths.

When someone compliments us by telling us what a nice home we live in, or what a nice car we drive, or what a beautiful family we have, or how good we look for our age, we respond how we think all good Christians who go to church every Sunday should respond, “Well, the Lord has really been good to me.” “The Lord has really blessed me.”  And we even believe responding in such a manner might coax God into blessing us some more!

Through the story of the Rich Man and Lazarus, Jesus says that our wealth and our health and our nice teeth are not signs that we are God’s favorites. In fact, those things may be some of the bricks in the wall that separates us from those who are poor, sick and have never seen a dentist. And according to Jesus, if we do not do something about it, that wall, that chasm, will eternally separate us from God.

When someone who is doing the best they can to make ends meet, who is struggling to put food on the table and keep the lights on, hears someone who has it all proclaim, “Yes, the Lord sure has been good to me! The Lord has really blessed me!” what are they to think?  What else can they think except: “Obviously, for some reason or another, I am not one of God’s favorites.”

So, should those of us with good jobs, nice homes and a clean bill of health thank God for what we have? Absolutely! But should we interpret our nice things as a sign that God has looked down on us favorably, given us a nod and a wink—a pat on the back? Jesus says, absolutely not!

One week before Hurricane Katrina paralyzed the Gulf Coast, a young mother went into labor about 10 days before her due date. Although she needed a C-section, she delivered a healthy boy in a New Orleans hospital. She later interpreted having the baby 10 days early as a sign of God’s divine favor. She said, “God knew that if the baby was born on the due date, we would not be able to get to a hospital. So, God made the baby come early.”

There’s no doubt she should thank God the baby came early; however, Jesus says she needs to be very careful how she interprets and shares her story because, without knowing it, she may be building a wall or a chasm between her and someone else. For example, what is the New Orleans father to think whose baby did not come early, whose wife was unable to go to the hospital because of the flood, and because of that, lost not only his baby, but his wife too?  Did God favor one family over the other?

Jesus said, absolutely not! And if you think that because of your good fortune in life you are blessed, one day you might find yourself asking someone who was less fortunate than you in life for a sip of water!

Jesus also put it this way: the sun shines on the good and the evil and the rain falls on the just and unjust alike (Matthew 5:45).

One day Luke says that Jesus cried out, “How often have I desired to gather everyone together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, but you were not willing!” (Luke 13:34).

The question for us this morning is this, “Are we willing to be gathered under the wings of grace[ii] and see all people, rich and poor as our brothers and our sisters. Are we willing to start building bridges or keep putting more bricks in the wall?”

The good news for us is, unlike the rich man in our story, it’s not too late. We are able, more than able. The question is, “Are we willing?”

[i]Cousar, Charles B.; Gaventa, Beverly R.; McCann, J. Clinton; and Newsome, James D., Texts for Preaching: A Lectionary Commentary Based on the NRSV–Year C (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 1994)

Craddock, Fred B., Luke, Interpretation. (Louisville:  John Knox Press, 1990)

Craddock, Fred B.; Hayes, John H.; Holliday, Carl R.; and Tucker, Gene M., Preaching Through the Christian Year, C (Valley Forge:  Trinity Press, 1994)

Culpepper, R. Alan, Luke, The New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume IX.  (Nashville:  Abingdon, 1995)

Another Brick in the Wall

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Just a Thought3 Comments

The-parable-of-LazarusFrom We’re Able, but Are We Willing? 

Luke 16:19-31

Through the story of the Rich Man and Lazarus, Jesus says that our wealth and our health and our nice teeth are not signs that we are God’s favorites. In fact, those things may be some of the bricks in the wall that separates us from those who are poor, sick and have never seen a dentist. And according to Jesus, if we don’t do something about it, that wall will eternally separate us from God.