Repurposed: Meeting at the Gate: The Story of the Rich Man and Lazarus

FBCGSO Sermons

https://fbcgso.files.wordpress.com/2016/08/08-07-2016_sermon.mp3

Luke 16:19-31

“There was a rich man who was dressed in purple. At his GATE was laid a beggar named Lazarus.”

The parable of the Rich man and Lazarus–we know its meaning. We should give to the poor; we should be sympathetic to those who have less than we do. And if we do that we shall have a seat at Abraham’s table in the here-after. This parable teaches that lesson well.

However, I would like to push against the current and seek to understand this parable as a tale not so much about what the rich man didn’t give, but more about what he failed to receive. So let’s gather around this GATE and ponder the meaning of this fascinating story. Let’s pray: Lord, open our eyes and ears, open our hearts and our minds as we gather around this closed gate. Amen

The theme of the summer sermon series concerns the way in which Jesus takes an object and repurposes it into a parable. Well, here we are at the gate of the rich man’s house. But, many suspect that Jesus might have been repurposing more than a gate; perhaps walking by this house reminded Jesus of a real episode in the life of the community that he could repurpose to get across a most important truth.

It is unusual for Jesus to give people names in parables. “A sower went out,” not a sower named Zeb; “a Samaritan came by,” not Sam the Samaritan. It seems odd that the poor man should be named, not the rich one, but perhaps Lazarus is named because he was well known, a common fixture at this gate. Perhaps he was known because he was particularly ghastly to see; giving Jesus the reason for adding the specific observation of dogs licking his open sores. When such a figure died, perhaps it was the stuff of talk, of speculation as to what he had done to deserve such awful treatment from God. And perhaps the death of this poor soul coincided with the death of a famously rich man. A community would have seen back to back the difference between the mere disposal of a body, and a funeral of a pillar of the community. Walking by the gate, what Jesus really repurposed, perhaps, was the town buzz.

This takes us to Part I of the parable: The Introductions

We know the rich man is really rich because he wears purple, he lives in luxury, and he has enough scraps that fall from his table to feed the poor. That’s what we know. But, Jesus doesn’t cast this rich man as a particularly bad person. We don’t read that he abused Lazarus. He was a man simply playing out the usual scenario of a rich man; enjoying the wealth he had acquired, allowing those less fortunate to “feast” off the scraps of his table. A terrible person might watch with some glee as table scraps were thrown to the animals while hungry people watched. No such thing is presented here. No doubt, most of the people who observed this rich man, based on the predominate theology of the day, assumed him to be a good person. Why else would God so richly bless him? The rich man in all likelihood believed the same thing; what a good person I must be to be so richly blessed. And looking down upon the likes of Lazarus, using the same misguided theology, perhaps speculated as to what sin of his or his father would require such punishment as this. I suspect he slept well at night knowing that his scraps kept poor Lazarus alive.

But, there’s that gate. Certainly Jesus uses this gate as a clear divide between the haves and have nots. And because he was addressing the Pharisees, he was setting up the divide between the clean, and the unclean. Jesus knew that all those listening to him were making mistaken assumptions as to which side of this gate dwelt the love and the grace of God; and we are not immune to these assumptions.

We have a saying I hear quite often. I think it reflects well the attitude of the rich man, and therefore, helps us understand how very much like him we are. The saying, “There, but by the grace of God go I.”

Have you ever said that–I have. But, have you ever been on the other side of the gate when someone said that about you?

When I was in college I cut my foot requiring many stitches the day before spring break began. I had to keep my foot elevated and so I stayed alone in my dorm room while everyone else went home or to the beach. A couple of my friends came by to see me before they left for break–a nice visit–I really appreciated it. But, I heard one say to other as they were leaving…there but by the grace of God sit I…chuckle….chuckle.

There is nothing like being on the other side of any gate, to really know that there is even a gate there at all. The operative word in this saying is, “there.” There is a person, a situation–there is beyond this divide a place where God’s grace doesn’t dwell like it does on my side.

This parable is designed to clear up the distortion caused by the gate. This parable brings to light the fact that all the measures we use to judge people: wealth, appearance, health, ethnicity, where they live. All the methods we use to gage how much of God’s grace is being allotted has nothing to do with God’s grace at all, and everything to do with how we separate ourselves from the people we are called to love.

But let me remind all of us that this is a gate in the story–it’s not just a fence, and it can open. With the gate wide open the phrase ceases to be, “There, but by the grace of God go I,” and it becomes, “Here, in exactly the same need of grace are all of us.”

But, the rich man didn’t get that. You see, that gate didn’t just keep Lazarus out, it didn’t just make the boundary of the haves and the have not’s–no, that gate produced a gilded cage; a place in which the rich man believed the delusion that he was in need of nothing beyond his protected world. It led him to believe that he possessed that God-like capacity to know who was blessed and who was not. Such are the distortions of reality behind a locked gate.

And so we move to the Part II of the story; they both die and move on
to the here-after.

This is another unique aspect of this parable. It is the only parable in which the
participants die and we get a glimpse into what lies in wait for us in the here-after. It is a sketch of the here-after, not a blueprint. As a friend of mine described it this way, “this parable is not intended to give us the furniture arrangements of heaven, or the weather report of hell.”

But, it does point us to the most significant feature of the geography of hea
ven and hell; the vast chasm separating the two. And in this scene from the parable we get a glimpse into just why the rich man is on the hades side of the chasm. It’s not because he’s rich–it is the condition of his heart; a condition that persists even in hell. Did you catch what he did? He asked Abraham to send Lazarus over with some water. It’s not that he is rich; it’s that he still feels that his money, his position, his purple clothes makes him better than someone else, even a person feasting at the table with Abraham. He still did not get it. And hear this clearly; that hardness of his heart is the source of the chasm between him and heaven. This is not a God imposed canyon; the rich man has dug this deep dark place himself.

But, herein lays the good news for us. What was at one time only a gate that separated the rich man from Lazarus after death becomes an unbridgeable chasm. But, for us—now–nothing more than self-imposed gates separate us from those God desires that we love. And if our gates, (those measures we use to separate ourselves) are built from our own construction, then we can choose to unlock them and swing them wide open.

But, how do we do this?

Part III: The moral of the story. This brings us to the cross current of the story–that it is more about what rich man failed to receive, than it is about what he failed to share

Remember, in the sight of God, Lazarus is just fine, it is the rich man who is in peril. If the rich man had had the compassion to open the gate, to open his arms to embrace Lazarus, he would have also been open to receive the wealth of this poor man. That’s right–the poor man’s wealth; his vast store of humility, patience, gratitude. “Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of God.” The rich man did not get this because his gate kept Lazarus out. Sure Lazarus would have benefited greatly if the rich man had shared more. But, we see played out in this parable the devastating effect of a gate that kept the true riches of Lazarus from the rich man.

And that is the bittersweet ending to the story. The rich man never received what Lazarus had in abundance. He would always be blind to what really mattered; and finally he had to admit this defeat to Abraham. It’s too late for him, but maybe, just maybe, Lazarus can go back to earth and tell his brothers that this is the way things are. But Abraham does not go for that idea. They won’t listen. They have had a life time of hearing the words of Moses and the prophets–you think they would listen to this poor unclean man?

On top of everything else these gates are sound proof, and they are truth proof–they keep us isolated from the many different ways we might hear the voice of God.

As in most of these parables it is good to put ourselves into the story. I would like to end this with what I hope shall be a wonderfully positive note. We are the siblings; we still have a chance to change the ending of this story.

Listen carefully to how Abraham explains the problem with these rich folks. Sure they should have been more giving, more sympathetic, and more open with the great wealth they had amassed. But, those problems are way down-stream of the more essential issue.

They are not listening—they are not heeding the words of Moses and the prophets. They have the scriptures, but they are not hearing what the scriptures have to teach them about themselves and the world in which they live, and all the people with whom they share this world.

The problem was not their wealth; it was their poverty; the scarcity of their understanding of the meaning of the word of God. They knew, as we know, the stories of scripture. But there is a big difference between being acquainted with scripture and having an encounter with it.

And we can have such an encounter by developing a deep abiding love for scripture–by allowing the stories of our faith to speak to us each day, and to begin to see ourselves in the long arc of God’s redemptive story.

But, Jesus didn’t say we should study our Bible, he said, “I was hungry and you fed, and naked and you clothed me.” Yes, and this parable tells us how to do that, how important it is to hear and to heed the voices of our forbearers. I have two heroes of the faith whose lives illustrate how an encounter with scripture can transform lives. Clarence Jordon told us why he farmed those peanut fields in South Georgia with the poorest of poor. Albert Schweitzer told us why he labored in the jungles of Africa with the poorest of the poor; because they both first hungered to know and endeavored to discover all that scripture had to tell them. They were first students of God’s word, allowing the wonderful narrative of love and redemption to touch them with new vision.

We all must open the pages of scripture….and listen. We must open our arms to those in need…. and listen. We must open our minds and open our hearts… and listen. And as we listen, perhaps hear the voice of God in the squeaking sound of a rusty old gate opening the way of grace for everyone.