Little People

September 30, 2007     Proper 21 C

Jeremiah 32:1-3a, 6-15            Psalm 91:1-6, 14-16

1 Timothy 6:6-19         St. Luke 16:19-31

What is the "Great Abyss" between Lazarus in the bosom of Abraham and Dives in the bed of flames? What events caused the chasm?

The story Jesus told the Pharisees is well known. A rich person, traditionally called Dives (from the Latin word for "rich"), having lived in opulence all his earthly days, made for himself a destiny of torment. The beggar Lazarus, having longed for the scraps of the rich, his sores licked by dogs, finds consolation. When Dives pleads that further warning be given his brothers, Abraham says only: "If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, they will not be convinced even if one should rise from the dead."

The gate by which Lazarus posts himself in this life performs two functions. It keeps Lazarus outside and the rich man inside; but it can also be the rich man's entry into the world where he can give alms or become a patron to needy clients. This creates a gap between the two, which only grows larger as the story progresses.

The chasm is of their own making. The Diveses of the world refuse to listen to the revelations of God, just as they refuse to hear the cry of the poor. Wealth and privilege have created an unbridgeable gap. They just do not need God. They certainly do not need the poor.

And we, this Judeo-Christian nation, who have read Moses' law, who have heard the prophets, and received the good news of Jesus, what might this parable say to us? Have we created an abyss between ourselves and the Lazaruses of the world? Do we not close our minds to anything that challenges our way of life?

The corporate head of Gap and Banana Republic made a cool $2 million last year. A woman inEl Salvador who makes his clothes for us to wear made 56 cents an hour.

And now, with our great free market, advertisements in industry trade magazines brag that we can hire seamstresses for 33 cents an hour. U.S. workers are abandoned while Third-World workers are exploited.

The problems of the rich are not unique to our century. Listen to the words of St. John Chrysostom, who lived during the last years of the 4^th century.

It is worthwhile inquiring why the rich man saw Lazarus in Abraham's arms, and not in the company of some other righteous person. The reason is that Abraham was hospitable, and so the sight of Lazarus with Abraham was meant to reproach the rich man for his own inhospitality.

Abraham used to pursue even passers-by and drag them into his home, whereas the rich man disregarded someone lying in his own doorway.

Although he had within his grasp so great a treasure, such an opportunity to win salvation, he ignored the poor man day after day. He could have helped him but he failed to do so.

The patriarch was not like that but just the opposite. He would sit in his doorway and catch all who passed by. And just as a fisherman casting a net into the sea hauls up fish, yes, but also quite often gold and pearls, so Abraham while catching people in his net finished by catching angels, though strangely enough without knowing it.

Even Paul marvels at this and gives the advice: Remember to welcome strangers into your homes, for some by so doing have entertained angels without knowing it.

And he did well to say without knowing it, for if Abraham had welcomed his guests with such kindness because he knew who they were he would have done nothing remarkable.

He is praiseworthy only because, without knowing who the passers-by were and taking them to be simply human wayfarers, he yet invited them in with so much good will.

And this is true of you also. If you show much eagerness in welcoming some famous and distinguished person you do nothing remarkable; often the high rank of a guest compels even a reluctant host to show every sign of courtesy.

But we do something truly great and admirable when we give a most courteous welcome to all, even the outcasts of society or people of humble condition.

Hence Christ himself praised those who so acted, declaring: Whatever you did for one of these very poor people you did to me. He also said: It is not your Father's will that one of these little ones should perish.

Indeed, throughout the gospel Christ speaks a great deal about the little people and those of the humblest condition.

And so Abraham also, knowing this, did not ask who travelers were or where they came from, as we do today, but simply welcomed them all.

Anyone wishing to show kindness should not inquire into other people's lives, but has only to alleviate their poverty and supply their needs, as Christ commanded when he said: Imitate your Father in heaven, who makes his sun rise on good and bad alike, and sends rain on the just and the unjust.

If we open our eyes to the Word of God and unstop our ears to hear the cry of the poor, we will not automatically endorse some political or economic policy. But we will insist that any politician or party must welcome and care for Lazarus. We must do this for the sake of Lazarus. We must do it for our own sake.

The tradition of the Reformation was to give to the poor out of whatever God had given them. Coming from a mainly agrarian society, much of what was given to the poor was food. Predating the US custom of Thanksgiving was the celebration of Harvest Home. The fruit of the earth was brought before God in an Old Testament inspired "wave offering", and then given to those in need. In many cases those in need were the clergy who existed at what we might now call the poverty level. As circumstances improved others in need would share in the blessing of God's harvest. We in the 21^st century continue that tradition. We bring the fruit of God's earth and human labors, offer it in thanks to God and then share it with those in need. The presence of processed and packaged food does not diminish the intent or affect. It demonstrates that we are people of God.

Paul's First Letter to Timothy reveals the kind of persons we might be: people of integrity, kindness, piety, steadfastness, and love, people who fight the good fight of faith, people of true nobility.

This passage in chapter 6, however, is framed by two warnings. It is prefaced by Paul's remark that, if we long to be rich, we will become trapped in dangerous ambitions that plunge us into ruin. The way of Christian nobility, however, is a life of generosity. Warn those who are rich in this world's goods that they are not to look down on other people and not to set their hopes on money, which is untrustworthy, but on God, who, out of his riches, gives us all that we need for our happiness.

Tell them that they are to do good, and be rich in good works, to be generous and willing to share.

This is the way they can save up true capital for the future if they want to make sure of the only life that is real. I did not dream up that passage to make anyone feel bad. Paul wrote it to help us find joy. Joy comes not in what we have, but in what we can share with the little people, those who stand in need. Those who might be overlooked by society. Those who because of God's generosity to us will also know of the goodness of God.