The Grace in Awareness (Sunday, September 25th, 2016)

Bible Reference(s): Luke 16:19-31

Sermon by Rev. Terri Thorn

I'm pretty sure that if I could read some of your minds right now, you are thinking:  "Oh no! Surely she is not going to talk about money today.  I really don't like it when the preacher talks about money. What I do with my money is a personal matter between me and God." 

Well, let me just say, I totally get where you are coming from. I was raised to believe that there are three things we should never discuss in a public forum...religion, politics and money.  The problem is...apparently someone forgot to mention that rule to Jesus.  He seems to talk about all three subjects,  all the time, especially in public.   In fact, in his era, religion and politics were pretty much one and the same... and money drove both.

So, as much as I would rather not talk about money today...and as much as you would rather I not talk about money ...both Jesus and Paul are forcing me to talk about money.  And, before I'm finished, it may even sound like politics.  But keep in mind, the passages that we just read are their words...not mine.   And they are some very blunt words about money...especially Paul's.  I mean, Jesus uses a made-up story to make his point; whereas, Paul, in typical Paul "letter-to-the-church, preacher-ly fashion", tackles it head on! 

In fact, Paul basically says, "Listen up church!  This is not the way of Christ.  Accumulation of things is not the priority of Jesus followers...godliness combined with contentment is."  And then he calls the rich to the carpet of accountability.  "Don't be haughty, or set your hopes on the uncertainty of riches. Instead, do good, be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share.   This leads to the life that really is life."  Period.  End of story.  From Paul's perspective, that is the whole sermon.

So...I suppose I could just end right now.  However, there's still the matter of this parable that Jesus tells in the Luke reading.  And, as we have seen with any number of Jesus' parables, there is the story and then there is the moral of the story.  The teaching...and the lesson.   

Now, on the surface, the story that Jesus tells is pretty straight-forward.  Rich man. Lazarus.  Both die.  One goes with the angels...one goes to the torment of Hades.  And...since it is a Jesus parable, we don't have to guess who goes where, right?  As someone said earlier this week, "It's another story where Jesus picks on the rich guy."  

It does seem that way.  This is especially true in Luke's gospel.  Rich men in parables are the proverbial bad guys...not necessarily because they are rich, but because God regularly shows a soft-spot for the poor.

Still, even so, I'm not convinced that the lesson in this story has as much to do with the rich man's wealth as with his attitude.   After all, folks, being rich, in and of itself is not sinful.   However, the way one gets rich sure can be.  That was Paul's point all along.

Likewise, so can our motives for gathering wealth.  Was it hoarded to compensate for a lack of trust?  Did we seek to be financially wealthy so we could take care of ourselves and others in the long-haul, or was it about elevating ourselves from others...so we can run with an elitist crowd.  Again, I don't think God's greatest concern is the wealth, but the how and why of the wealth.  

And the what...the what are we doing with our wealth?   It seems from this parable that people of faith might have to answer this question before God.  In fact, it may be the most important of the three, how did you get it, why do you have it, and what are you doing with it?  Keep in mind though, that the answers you give will not get you into the kingdom of heaven..nor will they keep you out.  No, these are questions about what kind of kingdom work we, his people, are doing here and now. 

So yes, what Christians do with our money matters...a lot. 

But here's the thing....as I said, I'm not convinced that this parable is about how the rich man got rich...or why he was rich...or even about what he did with his money while he was alive.   I believe that Jesus' problem with the rich man is that he let his wealth blind him to what was happening all around him.   Clearly, the rich man lacked Christ-like compassion...but he also lacked awareness of any needs but his own.

The rich man was so wrapped up in his wealth -- his purple robes...his extravagant and privileged lifestyle -- that he either didn't notice Lazarus begging for scraps, or he ignored him.  Neither of which pleases God.  Now, I realize we don't get a lot of details about the rich man, but Jesus certainly implies that he was in the position to do something... to see Lazarus - poor, neglected, covered in sores...to hear his cries of pain and hunger...and to help lessen his suffering.  Yet, he does not.  As someone in Bible study this week said, it was as if Lazarus was just another dog at his door.  A mongrel unworthy of scraps. 

However, according to the story, once the two men were dead, the fortunes are reversed. Lazarus is comforted and the rich man is tormented.  Lazarus is cared for and the rich man is in need. To the crowds around Jesus who identified with Lazarus, this is all good news.  God has righted the wrong.

The parable reassures that God hears the cries of the powerless and the marginalized.  God hears and God redeems.  But, the parable also warns that God judges those who stand by and choose to do nothing in the meantime. 

So, as tempting as it is to make this solely about the afterlife...I do think Jesus makes it clear, we displease God, here and now, when we selfishly misuse our blessings, our wealth, our position, and our power without regard for the suffering of others.  Somehow, our experience of eternal peace is tied to our willingness to be attentive to the cries of oppression and injustice in this lifetime.  And, as Abraham infers, to deny those voices is to defy scripture and deny Christ.

It seems significant that the name Lazarus roughly translates to:  the one whom God assists.  Another source says it means: God helps.  Yet, the rich man has no name.  In the world he is important, but in the kingdom of God, he is insignificant.  He had wealth and power...yet he lacked attentiveness to those around him.  And in the end, he had no peace.

It makes me wonder...who are the Lazarus' of today?  To whom are we not attentive?   Perhaps we are too self-absorbed to notice.  Or just too afraid to get involved.  Or maybe we are truly unwilling to see...we would just prefer not to acknowledge?  It doesn't directly impact me..there's nothing I can do...I can't fix it. Or a personal favorite:  Not my monkeys, not my zoo.

There are all sorts of excuses we can conjure to explain away our inaction.  But here's the problem with our complacency.  God isn't asking us to solve all the problems. God isn't calling us to throw all our money at situations to try to make them better...God is just asking us to be aware.  Be aware.  There is so much grace to be found in awareness...in paying attention...in listening and being with people...in seeing the image of God in another human being. 

Personally, I believe that this was the rich man's biggest sin.  It wasn't about not feeding Lazarus...it was about not seeing him...not hearing him...not acknowledging the common bond they shared.

But, I mean, isn't that one of our deepest human needs and desires?  To be seen...to be known...to be heard...just as we are. To not have to conform to someone else's expectations or definition? 

This is what I mean by the grace in awareness...the grace that comes when we choose to be aware and attentive to those whom we otherwise would not see.  Grace in awareness looks like love and I believe God meets us there.

As I've agonized over the news headlines of this week...I can't help but wonder how many times I have failed to extend the grace of awareness to people of color?  Hear me out please.  I don't think of myself as a racist, but I'm becoming more aware of my embedded racism -  stuff I learned as a child in a predominately white town that was literally border town between the North and the South during the Civil War. 

I am also beginning to face the biases and prejudices that I didn't even realize I had....as well as the privilege I bear.  Now I know that's a trigger word, privilege, but I'm OK with it.  I know I have advantages because I'm white.  Let's face it, most societal norms in America have been generated by white people...therefore I don't have to work too hard to fit in.  I can shop for clothing, hair products, and food that mesh with my culture without ever needing to go to a specialty shop.  I can find a capable hairdresser...dozens of them...who know how to cut my hair texture.  This isn't true for black women.  And I do not have to tell my  6'2" white son to take off his hoodie every time he walks out the door for fear it will draw negative attention.  So yes, I have privilege that my black friends do not...and it has nothing to do with money!

So, right now, when our nation is in the midst of racial unrest that harkens back to the 60's Civil Rights movements, I think we all have to ask...especially those of us in predominately white churches...how many times have we been like the rich man when it comes to seeing and hearing the suffering of our brothers and sisters of color? 

How many times have we ignored their stories...dismissed their experiences...or denied their truths because they don't match our own?

How many times have we watched the news and thanked God "that racial protest stuff" doesn't happen here in our community so we don't have to deal with it?

How many times have we explained away how it's not really racism...and we are not really privileged?

How many times have we armchair quarterbacked the problems of minorities, any minority,  giving opinions of what they should do and how they should respond, rather than just listening and loving and learning from them, instead? 

How many times have we not seen the image of God in another because the other doesn't look like us, dress us, talk like us, or live like us?

How many times have we failed to see the Lazarus' of the world? 

How many times have we failed to offer the grace of awareness in places it is needed most?

Lord have mercy  - we don't really want to think about it, do we? Yet, the minute we choose to ignore our own failures is when we fail again.  We do not want to hear this about ourselves or our churches, much less believe it about our nation, but it doesn't make it any less true. 

The good news is that, praise be to God, we're not dead yet.  Unlike the rich man in the story, it's not too late for us to choose differently.  Ours is a God who sees the suffering...hears the cries...and acts with compassion.  And friends, as his beloved church, so can we.  

It's called the hard work of loving.   Loving God and loving others.   Granted, it's not always easy to love...but there's really no other way to find hope, joy and peace.

And, while we might not be able to end the racial unrest in our nation, we can do our part to bring about reconciliation, justice, and peace. 

I believe that's all that God asks of us.  To claim the grace of  awareness for ourselves.  To intentionally check our own biases and preconceived notions as well as our tendency to see life according our own experiences and perspectives, at the door...and LISTEN...really listen to what people of color have to say. Listen and learn.  And not just from your typical sources.  Seek out new ones.   Allow yourself to be led rather than take the lead...to stand with rather than in judgment of the suffering.  Abandon absolutes and appreciate the blessing of diversity.  For when we do these things, we do the hard work of love.

When a suburban non-denominational church partners with a black Baptist church in the inner city Indianapolis every Saturday morning to work side-by-side to clear out abandoned lots and improve neighborhoods...they do the hard work of love. 

When a local pastor in my hometown of Madison and the students of  Hanover College organized a peaceful protest to stand against a KKK rally which held there yesterday...yes, they are still around....well, let me say those faithful, peaceful Christians did and continue to do the hard work of love.

When a black church in Connersville was tagged with racist graffiti, and members of the community (all of whom were white) showed up and painted over the evil...and then provided a security system for the church, even though it has been closed due to lack of finances...and when the previous members find renewed hope in the midst of all this...they are all doing the hard work of love.

When a white teacher in a mostly black school in Tulsa, OK sits with her students while they grieve the widely-televised and highly-controversial shooting of Terence Crutcher, the father of one of their classmates...and when that teacher must listen to the student's growing concerns about being disliked for the color of their skin, she is doing the hard work of love.

And, when an all-white church, in a mostly white community, in a mostly white county, still chooses to actively address racial injustice, we, too, will be doing the hard work of love.

Friends, I thought long and hard about whether I was going to bring this sermon today...some of you know how much I wrestled...but here's the thing.  After prayerful consideration, it occurred to me that to do anything else with this lectionary passage on this tumultuous week in our nation would be to ignore Lazarus.  And that was a risk I wasn't willing to take.