Make a New Normal

Breaking Chasms

"breaking chasms" - a photo from the air of a large, seaside estate, with a gorgeous view of the water

The key to the parable is the chasm: the one between God and wealth: and how we are all called to break it apart.

"breaking chasms" - a photo from the air of a large, seaside estate, with a gorgeous view of the water
Photo by Gautier Salles on Unsplash

Learning to serve God over wealth
Proper 21C  |  Luke 16:19-31

I haven’t preached with you all in three weeks and these are some of my favorite parables, and then we are gathering here, today, and we get the most vivid and detailed parable of them all? I am jumping out of my skin here. There is so much! 

And we have a rich context that makes the whole thing vibrate with power…
While we have an impulse to think this parable is one we can dismiss as metaphysical mumbo jumbo or religious platitudes.

So where to begin!?!

It was back in chapter 9 that Jesus sent his closest followers out to do his work in the world, remember? And they came back and were like, it actually worked! Then he sends all of them out to do the same thing: 1) take nothing with them, 2) rely on the mercy of total strangers, 3) visit with strangers in foreign countries (in other words: go be immigrants!), 4) taking with you only the healing power of Jesus and the message of the grace of God.

And so much happens over the next five chapters,

but some highlights include:

  • Teaching about neighborliness and being asked by a lawyer “who is my neighbor?” (The Good Samaritan).
  • Jesus going to two swanky dinner parties and shaming them for their elitism.
  • And being challenged by Pharisees and scribes so in chapter 15, Jesus tells three parables about things that are lost.

So then Jesus turns to his disciples at the beginning of chapter 16 and tells the parable of the dishonest manager (which is a whole other thing) but he summarizes it saying 

“You cannot serve God and wealth.” 

The gist of which is that, to accumulate wealth, one must ignore the commands of God.

And the very next line, in 16:14, it says 

“The Pharisees, who were lovers of money, heard all this, and they ridiculed him.”

So, remember that the Pharisees challenge him about the Sabbath and he challenges them back by teaching about saving and celebrating what or who is found. And when he turns to his people, the Pharisees mock him.

And Luke tells us exactly how trustworthy they are. They are on the side of accumulating wealth. Which puts them on the opposite side from God.

Knowing that, we now get a parable he tells to them about a man condemned for loving money.

All about the Benjamins

The parable gives us vivid examples to contrast this (nameless) rich man from Lazarus, the poor man whose plight he ignored. As much as I’d love to dive into them all, I’ll focus on one we only understand by half.

Have you ever been to a place like Logan’s Steakhouse where you have shelled peanuts and you crack them open and just toss the shells on the floor? The funny thing about this is it’s actually part of the culture. It’s not just convenience. To fit in, you throw the shells on the floor on purpose.

We also all know, in a different context, that some people love feeding dogs from the table. Not just overlooking when a pupper snags what falls to the floor, but like taking the stuff from their plate and offering it to them.

Now take those ideas and imagine how, two thousand years ago, much like today, a culture would develop around ways the wealthy can demonstrate how wealthy they are. With a resource they have in abundance that others do not. Which includes food.

Rich men, like this guy in the parable, would literally break off a hunk of bread, dip it in oil, and throw it on the floor for “lessers” to consume.

Any disciple who remembers when Jesus taught them to pray, should know where God’s heart is in this: “give us today our daily bread.” We all deserve enough.

Here Jesus is giving us details about how wealth works.

Which sets up the whole teaching.

This rich guy is in Hades. Mad that he’s gone to the bad place while one of the poors goes to the good place. Doesn’t seem right. Or fair.

But how does he respond to his condition?

He’s like “Ugh! I’m so thirsty!”

So what does he do?

He calls for Abraham to have Lazarus find some water and bring it to him. 

This is a ridiculous request! It isn’t an expectation normal people have in the world. This isn’t even a “let me speak to your manager” moment. It’s closer to that scene thirty years ago when first President Bush didn’t understand how a checkout worked. Because he had never set foot in a supermarket. Because people had always done that for him.

This man doesn’t know how to get water and he still expects others will serve him.

The Chasm

Abraham tells the rich guy that Lazarus can’t serve him because of the chasm between them. Which is a pretty obvious metaphor. Like, we all get it.

But notice how the rich guy could see the chasm and probably understand that he can’t cross it. And yet, his request assumes a servant can if he’s serving him. Think of a CEO, when told by an engineer something is impossible, simply responds “Well, find a way!” Just get Lazarus to find a way across!

Think about the implication of this expectation.

Poor people can fight with the dogs over the scraps of bread the rich guy tosses to the ground which means they can be in the room to serve them but not sit at the table.

Like a few years ago, a person of color could wait or bus a white guy’s table, just not sit at it. Or they could sit in the balcony or the back of the church, just not share in this cup.

The System

So the rich man pleads. He’s starting to get that he is trapped with no servants. That he is helpless to receive this torture. And for the first time, he realizes that his fate will be shared with his family.

This is a rare moment of empathy, isn’t it? He’s obviously learning something.

But why is he convinced that his family will share in his fate? Inheritance. His accumulated wealth and all of its privilege has passed on to his family. And they will all make the same mistakes. And encounter the same fate.

Because the system that engineers the accumulation of wealth into the hands of a few people insulates the wealthy both from need themselves and to the suffering of others. Just as when one has a job it’s easy to say that someone else should get one. Or when you aren’t addicted to something, you can say, “just quit.”

So he knows he’s trapped. And he can see that his family will be trapped, too. So, one more time, if someone (a servant) goes out and warns them, then maybe…

And Abraham shuts that down by pointing out that there already are plenty of warnings. There is a chance that, unlike you, Rich Guy, maybe your family will heed them.

Adversarial

This is why serving wealth puts one in an adversarial position with serving God. Because it blinds us to our priority.

The rich man suffers on the wrong side of a chasm in eternity, not because God wants to punish him, but because he subjected others to a chasm in life. He imposed a chasm to protect himself and his wealth. To feel powerful. Famous. Loved.

This isn’t something God-ordained. It is culture. A system he supported. He wore those ostentatious robes, built the walls and gates, and threw the scraps of food from the table. This is the world he lived in and reinforced.

The widening gap between the rich and the poor today is exactly the same. Because the few who actually benefit from it have the power to maintain it.

But the good news of all of this is that means it doesn’t really have to be this way.

We can change.

Abraham names the hope. Not for him, but for his family. They have time. They have prophets and Scripture and Saints, so there is still a chance for them.

We are not consigned to our fate: but our culture does consign us to a class, and imposes a chasm fewer and fewer can cross. And support for this system and its love of money runs against God’s intentions for us.

The whole reason Jesus is telling this parable to people who were mocking him is that he knows it is possible to change. He doesn’t expect it to change. Or force it to change.

He is that prophet, speaking to the rich man’s family, encouraging them to choose God over wealth. 

And the sad part is that they probably don’t get it.

But we can. 

And we have that opportunity to learn and change and help shape the world around us into a place hospitable to the Kin-dom. 

This is where all the true power resides in this story.

Not in the rich guy who has power to reinforce a chasm on earth, only to be subjected to a chasm in death. And not from a vision of a God looking for new ways to punish people’s stupidity.

It comes in doing Kin-dom stuff in our world. Even when it is hard to do. Or we’re mad or hurt or conflicted. In serving God’s love of neighbor, of community, hope, health, and vibrant living rather than the accumulation of wealth and security.

It comes to us in the promise that, just like those disciples, we can walk out into the world with only the love of Christ and a command to be neighbors with strangers. And that the very power of Jesus will be with us.

That’s the power in this story.

That kingdoms can fall and the wealthy will lose everything while the small ones of our day, who survive on so little, but give so much, are our hope. 

And because of that, I have hope. We can hope. Because it gives us purpose. Mission. Opportunity. Life. A reason to keep going. Possibility. Community. Common life together. The Kin-dom here. Whenever we gather. No matter how many or how few.

I becomes WE and we can move mountains.