That Rich Man Made His Own Hell
Sermon
Sermons On The Gospel Readings
Series I, Cycle C
The lesson for today continues the discussion on the proper use of material possessions by describing what happens when a person tries to "serve both God and wealth" (Luke 16:13). Today's Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus leaves us repulsed by the gory details, puzzled by the literal description of eternal life, and hopeful that the Lord didn't really mean all those terrible things about the punishment due us "Haves" for our treatment of the "Have Nots."
Let me wander through this tale with you. It concerns an incredibly wealthy, yet unnamed man and a desperately poor beggar named Lazarus. Surprisingly, the two are neighbors -- at least neighbors of a sort. Lazarus begs at the checkpoint where the armed guard lets visitors in and out of the rich man's gated community. The rich man regularly steps over the beggar on his way in and out of his home.
In spite of the physical proximity, the two dwell in parallel universes -- the widely separated worlds of Sumptuous Luxury and Grinding Poverty. Consequently, the rich man knows the beggar only in a tangential way. He has an intellectual knowledge of Lazarus, but not an emotional caring for him. The rich man doesn't know if Lazarus has a wife and kids. He doesn't know if Lazarus' mother worries about her boy. They don't socialize with one another. The rich man knows about Lazarus. He just doesn't connect with him as a fellow human being.
The rich man doesn't have time for such things. He is after all, a Captain of Industry. He has to run as fast as he can just to keep up with his business. To satisfy the demands of his family, he has to run twice as fast as he can. Pursuing personal goals occupies his waking hours and dreaming of his future fills his sleeping hours. He does not have time to fret about the plight of Lazarus. The rich man physically excludes Lazarus with a fence around his house and emotionally excludes him with a fence around his heart.
In moments of candor, the rich man will tell you he really does not care for poor people. They are lazy. They want the government to support them. They are prone to crime. Jesus says that Lazarus has open sores from an unnamed illness -- probably some ancient equivalent of AIDS. The rich man will tell you, "That is a terrible but avoidable plague that responsible folks like us avoid. Quite frankly, 'People Like That' differ from 'People Like Us.' " Of this the rich man is certain: The life of Lazarus may be hell on earth, but it is a hell of his own making.
Most of the people in Jesus' audience resonate with the thinking of the rich man. Common belief in the ancient world assumed anyone as poor, sick, and miserable as Lazarus had to have done something to warrant God's punishment. Folks might not have known what Lazarus did wrong, but it must have been terrible.
Jesus continues the story by telling us that eventually both men die. Funny how that works. No matter how good the medical care, no matter how healthy the diet, no matter how much exercise, no matter how rich or how poor, death still comes one to a customer. When informing his audience of the death of both Lazarus and the rich man, however, Jesus' puts an unexpected twist on the story. The Master says that after death, the rich man is punished and the poor man is blessed. Jesus' audience is shocked.
Let me give some background. Not everyone in the first century necessarily believed in an afterlife. Those who did, however, assumed that the blessings and punishments in this life were extended into the next. Therefore, the suffering of Lazarus and the blessing of the rich man should have continued after death.
Gasps ripple through the audience when Jesus says that Lazarus dies and goes to be with Father Abraham and the rich man dies and goes to a place of punishment. This reverses expectations. Jesus is teaching that the blessed shall suffer and the suffering shall be blessed. The rich shall be poor and the poor shall be rich. The last shall be first and the first shall be last. The Master goes on to suggest that Lazarus is blessed in the afterlife because he has already known enough hell in his earthy life. The rich man, on the other hand, deserves to be punished for being callused to the plight of that poor man.
Let me pause for a moment to remind you that this is a parable. We should listen to it as though it is a story. The Master is not distributing a "User's Travel Guide to Heaven and Hell." Consequently, this passage of scripture should be taken seriously, but not literally. Scholars tell us that the afterlife described here is of Hades, not of heaven and hell at all. Hades was believed to be a place where all the dead, both righteous and wicked, go to await the final judgment. By the first century, this much older concept had evolved to where it was assumed that Hades was divided into regions according to the moral states of the dead.1 That notion fits Jesus' telling in the parable.
The rich man is miserable in the afterlife. He is tormented by thirst. From his assigned seating in steerage at the bottom of Hades he has some sort of window through which he can see others awaiting judgment. How surprised is the rich man when he peers through this window to see Lazarus resting in the bosom of Abraham.
(Please note, the beggar is with Abraham, not with God. Abra-ham is the great patriarch of the people of Israel. The people in Jesus' audience assumed that if Abraham was going to welcome any Jew, it should have been the rich man who did so well in life that his house is in a gated community. Wealth, it was assumed, was the reward for goodness.)
The rich man cries out for relief. He asks that Abraham dispatch Lazarus to bring him some relief. "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" (v. 24). This self-consumed man still thinks it's all about him and his wants. He still thinks that the poor man's job is to serve him -- "Father Abraham, send Lazarus."
Abraham denies his request. The rich man finally realizes that he should have been more compassionate to the beggar. He admits he was so wrapped up in himself that he didn't even notice Lazarus outside the gate with his sign: "Homeless. Will work for food." The rich man realizes that it is too late for him. He turns his worry toward the rest of his family. He begs Abraham to send a message to his brothers back at the gated community. Let them know that he is being punished in Hades because he did not demonstrate sufficient compassion for the less fortunate.
The rich man even has a plan for how Abraham can impress them with that message. The patriarch should raise Lazarus from the dead and assign him to tell his family. The resurrected beggar walking into the gated community where he was never permitted in life would so impress the rich man's family that they would understand the punishment for not having compassion.
The rich man just doesn't get it. He still thinks it's all about him and his need. He even still thinks that it is the responsibility of Lazarus to serve him and his family. "My five brothers will be very impressed by a dead beggar walking into our family compound. Resurrected beggars don't usually get past the gate house!"
Again, Father Abraham denies his request. The patriarch tells the rich man that if his brothers will not be guided by the words of Moses and the prophets, they will not be convinced by a beggar raised from the dead.
Rich man, you lived behind a high wall, a deep moat, and a locked gate. You even put a fence around your heart to keep out the needs of others. The teaching of the law and the prophets requires the faithful to "love God and love neighbor as self." Love requires more than not harming others. Love must reach out actively. Love demands more than indifference. The requirements of love cannot be satisfied simply by not harming others. Love requires that you help. Rich man, you created a chasm of indifference between you and others, a chasm that cannot be spanned. No one did this to you. You did it to yourself. You created your own hell. You made choices and now you suffer the consequences of those choices.
That, my friends, is the uncomfortable, but important lesson that dwells at the heart of this story and that speaks to this present age. We are responsible for our decisions and those decisions have consequences.
Frankly, we don't like that. It runs contrary to what we want to believe about our faith. We live in an age that delights in understanding God in Jesus Christ as the All Compassionate One. We believe God forgives and lets us start all over again. In fact, we believe so much in the God of compassion that we sometimes forget we also serve a God of judgment. This parable debunks our notion that God never holds anything against us, as long as whatever we do, we do with a good heart, with good intentions. The rich man in the parable tried to live behind a wall of indifference. He didn't do any real harm to Lazarus. He just didn't really get involved and try to help him. He didn't mean to do anything wrong, but he created his own hell.
I read regularly in the newspaper the plight of refugees in far off places. I cannot always even pronounce the names of the countries. Too bad those folks must live in tents. Too bad they gather drinking water from muddy streams. Too bad they must watch their children die of starvation. Too bad warring factions maim and kill the innocents. It is a cruel world out there, but so long as the United States doesn't have a strategic interest, I don't think we should get involved.
I heard recently another of those ghastly reports on the spread of AIDS in Africa. They say that hundreds of thousands of children have already been orphaned and that there is nothing to stop hundreds of thousands more from becoming orphans. This modern-day Black Death threatens to destroy the family-based culture that has operated on that continent for 10,000 years. It is a shame, but it is not my problem.
I'm sure it doesn't happen often, but there does seem to be evidence that some of the products we buy in our stores are made by young children in the sweatshops of Asia. I feel bad about ten year olds working twelve-hour days stitching soccer balls, sewing dresses, or making shoes, but what can I do? It is just not my problem.
A scientist studying global warming reports that at the current rate of melting, the ice pack on Mount Kilamanjaro will be gone in fifteen to twenty years. That is just more of that environmental alarmist stuff. For the sake of future generations they want us to conserve fuel and protect endangered species, and not to drill for oil on the frozen tundra and deplete the ozone layer. If we do that, it will cost us money. It will be inconvenient. Not to do it might be problematic for our children and grandchildren, but that is their problem and not mine.
The message from the parable of the rich man and Lazarus is that our actions have consequences. It is not necessary for us to be actively engaged in doing something harmful toward others. There is a high price to pay just for our indifference toward others. In fact, our indifference causes God great distress.
Indifference
When Jesus came to Golgotha they hanged Him on a tree,
They drave great nails through hands and feet, and made a Calvary;
They crowned Him with a crown of thorns, red were His wounds and deep,
For those were crude and cruel days, the human flesh was cheap.
When Jesus came to Birmingham, they simply passed Him by
They never hurt a hair of Him, they only let Him die;
For men had grown more tender, and they would not give Him pain,
They only just passed down the street, and left Him in the rain.
Still Jesus cried, "Forgive them, for they know not what they do,"
And still it rained the winter rain that drenched Him through and through;
The crowds went home and left the streets without a soul to see,
And Jesus crouched against a wall and cried for Calvary.2
-- G. A. Studdert-Kennedy, 1883-1929
We are accountable for our actions. Our decisions have consequences. Our indifference disappoints God as much as our worst moral failings. That is the message of the scripture today. If you ask, "Where is a word of hope in this passage?" I can only say, "Let us not wait around for the resurrected beggar named Lazarus to be seen walking the neighborhood. Begin today to live as God calls us to live."
____________
1. The New Interpreter's Bible: Luke and John, Volume IX (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995), p. 317.
2. G. A. Studdert-Kennedy, "Indifference," in The Masterpieces of Religious Verse, edited by James Dalton Morrison (New York: Harper and Brothers Publishers, 1948), p. 195.
Let me wander through this tale with you. It concerns an incredibly wealthy, yet unnamed man and a desperately poor beggar named Lazarus. Surprisingly, the two are neighbors -- at least neighbors of a sort. Lazarus begs at the checkpoint where the armed guard lets visitors in and out of the rich man's gated community. The rich man regularly steps over the beggar on his way in and out of his home.
In spite of the physical proximity, the two dwell in parallel universes -- the widely separated worlds of Sumptuous Luxury and Grinding Poverty. Consequently, the rich man knows the beggar only in a tangential way. He has an intellectual knowledge of Lazarus, but not an emotional caring for him. The rich man doesn't know if Lazarus has a wife and kids. He doesn't know if Lazarus' mother worries about her boy. They don't socialize with one another. The rich man knows about Lazarus. He just doesn't connect with him as a fellow human being.
The rich man doesn't have time for such things. He is after all, a Captain of Industry. He has to run as fast as he can just to keep up with his business. To satisfy the demands of his family, he has to run twice as fast as he can. Pursuing personal goals occupies his waking hours and dreaming of his future fills his sleeping hours. He does not have time to fret about the plight of Lazarus. The rich man physically excludes Lazarus with a fence around his house and emotionally excludes him with a fence around his heart.
In moments of candor, the rich man will tell you he really does not care for poor people. They are lazy. They want the government to support them. They are prone to crime. Jesus says that Lazarus has open sores from an unnamed illness -- probably some ancient equivalent of AIDS. The rich man will tell you, "That is a terrible but avoidable plague that responsible folks like us avoid. Quite frankly, 'People Like That' differ from 'People Like Us.' " Of this the rich man is certain: The life of Lazarus may be hell on earth, but it is a hell of his own making.
Most of the people in Jesus' audience resonate with the thinking of the rich man. Common belief in the ancient world assumed anyone as poor, sick, and miserable as Lazarus had to have done something to warrant God's punishment. Folks might not have known what Lazarus did wrong, but it must have been terrible.
Jesus continues the story by telling us that eventually both men die. Funny how that works. No matter how good the medical care, no matter how healthy the diet, no matter how much exercise, no matter how rich or how poor, death still comes one to a customer. When informing his audience of the death of both Lazarus and the rich man, however, Jesus' puts an unexpected twist on the story. The Master says that after death, the rich man is punished and the poor man is blessed. Jesus' audience is shocked.
Let me give some background. Not everyone in the first century necessarily believed in an afterlife. Those who did, however, assumed that the blessings and punishments in this life were extended into the next. Therefore, the suffering of Lazarus and the blessing of the rich man should have continued after death.
Gasps ripple through the audience when Jesus says that Lazarus dies and goes to be with Father Abraham and the rich man dies and goes to a place of punishment. This reverses expectations. Jesus is teaching that the blessed shall suffer and the suffering shall be blessed. The rich shall be poor and the poor shall be rich. The last shall be first and the first shall be last. The Master goes on to suggest that Lazarus is blessed in the afterlife because he has already known enough hell in his earthy life. The rich man, on the other hand, deserves to be punished for being callused to the plight of that poor man.
Let me pause for a moment to remind you that this is a parable. We should listen to it as though it is a story. The Master is not distributing a "User's Travel Guide to Heaven and Hell." Consequently, this passage of scripture should be taken seriously, but not literally. Scholars tell us that the afterlife described here is of Hades, not of heaven and hell at all. Hades was believed to be a place where all the dead, both righteous and wicked, go to await the final judgment. By the first century, this much older concept had evolved to where it was assumed that Hades was divided into regions according to the moral states of the dead.1 That notion fits Jesus' telling in the parable.
The rich man is miserable in the afterlife. He is tormented by thirst. From his assigned seating in steerage at the bottom of Hades he has some sort of window through which he can see others awaiting judgment. How surprised is the rich man when he peers through this window to see Lazarus resting in the bosom of Abraham.
(Please note, the beggar is with Abraham, not with God. Abra-ham is the great patriarch of the people of Israel. The people in Jesus' audience assumed that if Abraham was going to welcome any Jew, it should have been the rich man who did so well in life that his house is in a gated community. Wealth, it was assumed, was the reward for goodness.)
The rich man cries out for relief. He asks that Abraham dispatch Lazarus to bring him some relief. "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" (v. 24). This self-consumed man still thinks it's all about him and his wants. He still thinks that the poor man's job is to serve him -- "Father Abraham, send Lazarus."
Abraham denies his request. The rich man finally realizes that he should have been more compassionate to the beggar. He admits he was so wrapped up in himself that he didn't even notice Lazarus outside the gate with his sign: "Homeless. Will work for food." The rich man realizes that it is too late for him. He turns his worry toward the rest of his family. He begs Abraham to send a message to his brothers back at the gated community. Let them know that he is being punished in Hades because he did not demonstrate sufficient compassion for the less fortunate.
The rich man even has a plan for how Abraham can impress them with that message. The patriarch should raise Lazarus from the dead and assign him to tell his family. The resurrected beggar walking into the gated community where he was never permitted in life would so impress the rich man's family that they would understand the punishment for not having compassion.
The rich man just doesn't get it. He still thinks it's all about him and his need. He even still thinks that it is the responsibility of Lazarus to serve him and his family. "My five brothers will be very impressed by a dead beggar walking into our family compound. Resurrected beggars don't usually get past the gate house!"
Again, Father Abraham denies his request. The patriarch tells the rich man that if his brothers will not be guided by the words of Moses and the prophets, they will not be convinced by a beggar raised from the dead.
Rich man, you lived behind a high wall, a deep moat, and a locked gate. You even put a fence around your heart to keep out the needs of others. The teaching of the law and the prophets requires the faithful to "love God and love neighbor as self." Love requires more than not harming others. Love must reach out actively. Love demands more than indifference. The requirements of love cannot be satisfied simply by not harming others. Love requires that you help. Rich man, you created a chasm of indifference between you and others, a chasm that cannot be spanned. No one did this to you. You did it to yourself. You created your own hell. You made choices and now you suffer the consequences of those choices.
That, my friends, is the uncomfortable, but important lesson that dwells at the heart of this story and that speaks to this present age. We are responsible for our decisions and those decisions have consequences.
Frankly, we don't like that. It runs contrary to what we want to believe about our faith. We live in an age that delights in understanding God in Jesus Christ as the All Compassionate One. We believe God forgives and lets us start all over again. In fact, we believe so much in the God of compassion that we sometimes forget we also serve a God of judgment. This parable debunks our notion that God never holds anything against us, as long as whatever we do, we do with a good heart, with good intentions. The rich man in the parable tried to live behind a wall of indifference. He didn't do any real harm to Lazarus. He just didn't really get involved and try to help him. He didn't mean to do anything wrong, but he created his own hell.
I read regularly in the newspaper the plight of refugees in far off places. I cannot always even pronounce the names of the countries. Too bad those folks must live in tents. Too bad they gather drinking water from muddy streams. Too bad they must watch their children die of starvation. Too bad warring factions maim and kill the innocents. It is a cruel world out there, but so long as the United States doesn't have a strategic interest, I don't think we should get involved.
I heard recently another of those ghastly reports on the spread of AIDS in Africa. They say that hundreds of thousands of children have already been orphaned and that there is nothing to stop hundreds of thousands more from becoming orphans. This modern-day Black Death threatens to destroy the family-based culture that has operated on that continent for 10,000 years. It is a shame, but it is not my problem.
I'm sure it doesn't happen often, but there does seem to be evidence that some of the products we buy in our stores are made by young children in the sweatshops of Asia. I feel bad about ten year olds working twelve-hour days stitching soccer balls, sewing dresses, or making shoes, but what can I do? It is just not my problem.
A scientist studying global warming reports that at the current rate of melting, the ice pack on Mount Kilamanjaro will be gone in fifteen to twenty years. That is just more of that environmental alarmist stuff. For the sake of future generations they want us to conserve fuel and protect endangered species, and not to drill for oil on the frozen tundra and deplete the ozone layer. If we do that, it will cost us money. It will be inconvenient. Not to do it might be problematic for our children and grandchildren, but that is their problem and not mine.
The message from the parable of the rich man and Lazarus is that our actions have consequences. It is not necessary for us to be actively engaged in doing something harmful toward others. There is a high price to pay just for our indifference toward others. In fact, our indifference causes God great distress.
Indifference
When Jesus came to Golgotha they hanged Him on a tree,
They drave great nails through hands and feet, and made a Calvary;
They crowned Him with a crown of thorns, red were His wounds and deep,
For those were crude and cruel days, the human flesh was cheap.
When Jesus came to Birmingham, they simply passed Him by
They never hurt a hair of Him, they only let Him die;
For men had grown more tender, and they would not give Him pain,
They only just passed down the street, and left Him in the rain.
Still Jesus cried, "Forgive them, for they know not what they do,"
And still it rained the winter rain that drenched Him through and through;
The crowds went home and left the streets without a soul to see,
And Jesus crouched against a wall and cried for Calvary.2
-- G. A. Studdert-Kennedy, 1883-1929
We are accountable for our actions. Our decisions have consequences. Our indifference disappoints God as much as our worst moral failings. That is the message of the scripture today. If you ask, "Where is a word of hope in this passage?" I can only say, "Let us not wait around for the resurrected beggar named Lazarus to be seen walking the neighborhood. Begin today to live as God calls us to live."
____________
1. The New Interpreter's Bible: Luke and John, Volume IX (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995), p. 317.
2. G. A. Studdert-Kennedy, "Indifference," in The Masterpieces of Religious Verse, edited by James Dalton Morrison (New York: Harper and Brothers Publishers, 1948), p. 195.
