Choosing mercy before it's too late

Today’s Gospel is a familiar old story, one that appears over and over again, not just in the Bible but in everything from classic literature to Lifetime movies. You know, the story of a very wealthy guy who experiences some sort of divine judgement.

In story that we just heard a Luke’s Gospel, there are two dead men, one rich and the other a beggar named Lazarus.

The Rich Man (we don’t know his name) was dressed in the finest clothes and had everything going for him. But he ignored when Lazarus, even though he encountered day after day. When they both died, Lazarus is comforted by Abraham; but the Rich Man has gone to the place of the dead, what we would call hell. He calls up to Abraham to send down Lazarus the beggar to give him some water. Nope, says Abraham. He is no longer a beggar, and he is certainly not your servant.  Well, then, the Rich Man says, send him to warn my brothers to straighten up so they don’t end up down here with me. Nice idea, says Father Abraham, but it is too late… besides they have all the information they need. They still have the chance to do the right thing…all they have to do is look and choose.

I love this kind of story because by working on our imagination, we begin to see the world differently.

The late Jewish philosopher Martin Buber collected and told stories about the travelling Hasidic rabbis from Jewish folklore in Czarist Russia and Ukraine. One such story is about a travelling rabbi who came to town and went to the home of the wealthiest man in town. He asked for a place to sleep and something to eat. Taken to be a nothing more than a poor beggar, he is turned brusquely away. He then goes to the home of the humble village schoolteacher, who gives the stranger his own bed, some food and drink. The next day the stranger goes to the Synagogue and teaches. When he realizes that the man was not a beggar but a famous, travelling rabbi, the rich man invites him to stay at his home. No, thank you, the Rabbi says, I will stay with the schoolteacher. You had your chance to welcome me when no one was looking, you cannot now welcome me when everyone is watching.

During Jesus’ time, the poor, the lame, and the blind were often viewed as "the stranger." A few chapters before today’s lesson, Jesus offered this counsel: "When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or our kinsmen or rich neighbors ... but when you give a feast, invite the poor, the maimed, the lame, [and] the blind" (Luke 14:12-14). In the Gospel of Matthew, in another story about those welcomed into heaven and those who were not, Jesus teaches that God told those who are welcomed into heaven, "I was hungry and you fed me. I was a stranger and you welcomed me." But to the others he said, "Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels, for ... I was hungry and you gave me no food. I was a stranger and you did not welcome me." Both the people who were welcomed and those sent away were surprised. They had no idea that how they treated the poor, the sick, the hungry and the stranger was important to God.

One of the occupational hazards of being a priest is that if you go out in public dressed in uniform, someone is liable to come up and hit you up for cash. They always have a story—and sometimes I’d like to give points for creativity—and I have learned not to say “no” so much as to direct people to the places and people who can do real good. Our friends at Good Neighbors have come up with an idea… put a days’ worth of food in a one-quart zipper bag, and give these to homeless folks on the streets, especially when they ask us for a handout. (I’d love it if some of us got together and put together a bunch of these bags to give out to folks in need!)

But there is more to Jesus’ story than just a call to do good case work. There is the call to understand both the implications of our wealth and our responsibility to use what we have for God’s purposes.  The Rich Man in the story was not so much blinded by his wealth, as he lived with a hardened heart. He saw only what he saw. Even if he occasionally threw a coin or a bread crust in the direction of Lazarus, he never saw the poor beggar as a person. Certainly not as a person worthy of God’s love, let alone his attention.

You see, if we look around we see we have the chance to feed the poor and the hungry, yes, but we also have the chance to push aside prejudice and fear, to bring dignity to those who had been cast aside, to bring comfort to those who grieve.

There have been times during my priesthood when I have been invited to go on “ride-arounds,” when I would accompany a police officer on his or her nightly rounds. Very quickly, you learn that this is an occupation where the officer often sees people at their worst… people who are in crisis, who are in trouble, who are upset, who are in the midst of doing something wrong. As a priest and one-time chaplain, I’ve seen how this affects how one views one’s neighbor. I learned that most police officers leave the profession within seven years, because of the stress and the spiritual toll it takes on one.

As the Rev. Gayle Fisher-Stewart, an African-American Episcopal priest, and a twenty year veteran of law enforcement in Washington, DC, says that when police only see what they see, and the police both reflect and carry the assumptions of the society they serve. And it is not only people in blue who look with suspicion upon people of color, or the poor, or people with emotional and psychological issues. They are only doing what we do all the time.

In a world where people are more and more empowered to stand one’s ground, to go through life defensively, to fear rather than love, the story of the rich man and Lazarus takes on deep resonance.

There is a deep connection between how we approach the poor and how we greet the stranger. In God’s economy: there are no makers and no takers because God is the maker of us all and the faithful take hold of God’s power in love. In God’s reign, there is no black or white. In Christ’s kingdom there is no rich or poor, male or female, slave or free. A basic sign of the presence of God’s kingdom is the dignity with which we treat even the poor, the different, the outcast. We have the chance right now to use what we have for God’s purpose. And we can choose what we see. We can choose to be like the Rich Man in Jesus’ story and step over the poor beggar Lazarus. Or we can choose another way.

Even small acts of caring, everyday acts of justice, and ordinary moments of compassion, announce that God’s reign is here, God’s love is alive, and that God’s transforming spirit is moving among us. We see around who and what is around us. We have the choice to act for God’s people as God’s people.

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Here is a link to the bulletin for the Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost  at St. John's Episcopal Church, Clearwater

Here is a link to the Scripture readings.

Here is a link to a video of the sermon.

Here is a link to a video of the liturgy.