Sermon preached by Fr. Tom
at St. Thomas Episcopal – Plymouth
September 29, 2013
Nineteenth Sunday of Pentecost – Proper 21
Jeremiah 32:1-3a, 6-15
Psalm 91:1-6, 14-16
1 Timothy 6:6-19
Luke 16:19-31
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be an acceptable offering in your sight, Oh Lord, my strength and my redeemer.
The parable in today’s Gospel is famously the parable which made Albert Schweitzer leave his comfy life in Alsace. You will notice I did not give a country that he left a name because Alsace transferred from Germany to France and back a couple of times during the life of Schweitzer. He was a remarkable guy, and was one of those Renaissance men you always hear about. He had a medical degree and he held doctorates in theology, philosophy and music. He was a Nobel laureate and a concert organist.
Schweitzer, at age 30, decided that he would go to Africa as a medical missionary. He announced “It struck me as impossible that I should be allowed to lead a happy life, while I saw so many people around me wrestling with care and suffering.” He raised money with organ recitals and by writing a few books.
He started his hospital in a chicken coop and was wildly successful. He had a tremendous impact on the people of the area. During WWI he was put in prison by the French and devoted his time there to writing. In 1924 he returned to Africa and turned down an invitation from Albert Einstein to teach at Princeton. I told you he was a remarkable guy.
I am going to talk about the parable in today’s Gospel now and then come back to Schweitzer.
Jesus told a story. “There was a rich man,” he said. This is a generic and nameless rich man, but it is someone who eats well and does not suffer want. He has nice clothes and a house.
Then Jesus says, “At (the rich man’s) gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores.” It’s interesting that Jesus gives this poor man a name. This is the only place in Jesus’s parables where Jesus tells us the person’s name. Naming this poor man gives him dignity.
It’s also interesting to note that Jesus does NOT tell us the rich man’s name. He does not honor the rich man in the same way that he honored the poor man.
Jesus goes on to say that this poor man was so hungry that he “longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table.” It’s pretty obvious that the rich man never gave this poor man any food — not even the crumbs from his table.
Then Jesus says that “dogs would come and lick (the poor man’s) sores.” I’m not sure just what that means. Maybe the dogs were this man’s only source of comfort, but maybe they just increased the misery. It sounds like a tough way to live though.
So both men die. At the moment of death, we all fall into God’s hands to receive whatever he has waiting for us. Death is the great equalizer, and it is recognizing this that coffins are covered with a pall at funerals in the Episcopal Church. It is almost like a uniform and no one sees who has the fancy coffin and who has the plain one.
“The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham.” The poor man went to heaven.
But Jesus said, “The rich man also died and was buried.” There were no angels and no Abraham to meet him.
The rich man went to Hades, where he found himself in agony from the fire. The rich man was as far from heaven as he could get, but part of his torment was his ability to see into heaven. He gets to see what he is missing. He sees Lazarus there by Abraham’s side, so he cries out, “Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.”
But Abraham said, “No! That’s impossible!” So the rich man replied, “Then, father, I beg you to send (Lazarus) to my father’s
house, for I have five brothers, that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.” But Abraham told him, “If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone rises from the dead.”
As it turns out God raises Jesus from dead and many people are not convinced, so Abraham was right.
You hear this story and you you have to ask yourself “Am I the rich man or Lazarus?” I want to think that I’m neither of them. I am neither as rich as the rich man nor as poor as Lazarus.
I have to be honest here. In the interests of full disclosure, I do eat pretty well. For certain I eat more than I should. I have a taste for strong coffee. I have a closet full of clothes, and I have warm things to wear in the winter. I live in a nice house with running water, electricity, flush toilets, and a refrigerator. I know that many people in this world have none of those things. Suddenly, I feel more like the rich man than Lazarus.
The rich man did not have compassion for the poor man outside his gate. All he had to do was open the gate. It is the gate he is unwilling or unable to open though. This is the gate that turns into a chasm before the parable is over. You have to be asking yourself “Who is the Lazarus at my doorstep?”
The next question is “What is the gate I am unwilling to open?” It is a gate for the time being and we have an opportunity to step through it now.
I am going to suggest that Albert Schweitzer understood that the gate for him was a comfortable life teaching and playing the organ. He had to give up something that was keeping him from stepping outside to help his brother. He opened that gate and was able to make a difference in the lives of many people.
I read a story about a young woman who found life depressing and boring. She went to a therapist, but after several sessions with him, she felt that the effort was futile. She thought the therapist was depressing and boring too.
Then one day she came into his office, her face full of excitement. “I’ve just had the most wonderful day,” she exclaimed. “This morning I couldn’t get my car started, so I called my priest and asked him if he could drive me to my appointment with you. He said he would but on the way he had to stop by the hospital and make a call. I went with him, and while I was in the hospital I visited some elderly people in one of the wards. By the time the morning was over, I felt better than I have in years. I am just in a great place right now because of this wonderful experience.”
The therapist quickly responded, “I think you have discovered something that makes you happy. You need to sign up as a volunteer at the hospital and spend time caring for others. I think we have found a clue to breaking you out of this cycle of depression and boredom.”
Much to his surprise, the woman answered “You don’t expect me to do this sort of thing every week, do you?”
Maybe Jesus does expect us to do this sort of thing every week. Maybe that’s how he dispenses blessings to the people in the hospital. Maybe that’s how he takes care of the Lazarus at our doorstep. Maybe this is how he dispenses blessings to us as well.
The name Lazarus means “God heals” or “God helps.” By reaching out to Lazarus we not only heal and help him, but we may very well be healing and helping ourselves through God’s grace.
My takeaways this morning are some questions. I can’t answer them for you. They come in pairs.
First – What is the gate for each of us? What are we unwilling to do to step outside our comfort zone?
Second – Who is the Lazarus outside our gate? Who is it that we are called to help?
Finally – What is stopping you? Why wait until the gate is a chasm?
I have said these words in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen