Scripture can be found here…
This morning our texts—all of them, psalm, prophet, and the words of Jesus—they are all pretty straightforward. They are all united in their message. The wealthy and powerful are featured, and not in a good way. Jesus tells a parable in which a wealthy man, a man who remains unnamed, is featured. He wears purple, a sign of either royal blood or aspirations. In the gospel of Luke—often considered the gospel of the poor—Jesus can be found traveling with a large crowd towards Jerusalem. The crowd contains Jesus’ disciples, and some religious leaders who are often seen as antagonists of Jesus, and sinners, and tax collectors, and regular people… which is to say, the working poor, who made up the vast, vast part of the population. A wonderful commentator, Mitzi Smith, opened my eyes this week, to something I had really never noticed before. In parable after parable, in this part of the gospel, Jesus features a rich man, someone who is well-off. She writes,
They are about the father who throws a lavish feast for his younger son when he returns home penniless after having squandered the inheritance given him (15:11-32); the owner of a hundred sheep who recovers the one that strayed from the flock (15:3-7); the rich man who accuses his slave manager of squandering his property (16:1-13); a rich man who has no compassion for a poor man named Lazarus (16:19-31)... (1)
It’s not that Jesus has it in for rich people. The whole problem is in that last sentence… the problem is when the rich have no compassion for those who are struggling. When they can walk by, almost without noticing a man at their gate who is so poor, his best friends are the local dogs who lick his sores; when they can walk by without seeing a man whose best hope of a meal is the food the rich man throws away after one of his daily lavish dinner parties.
The problem is, when the rich leave the poor waiting at the gate.
One of the striking things for me, at this summer’s Presbyterian Youth Triennium, was the extent to which Jesus’ call to us care for all God’s people was featured in the worship and the excellent, dynamic preaching. I had the privilege, not only of being moved by that preaching myself, but also of watching and witnessing as the messages reached our young people, and really landed in their hearts. One preacher, a man from Colombia, South America, talked about the Triennium theme, “here’s my heart” from the perspective of being uncle to a 12-year-old who had just had a heart transplant; and being a father to a 2-year-old, who also had had congenital heart disease. Despite the fear and struggle these little ones and their family faced, the preacher said, “These two persons are full of joy and bringing hope to us and many other people!”
Another preacher, a second generation Latina from Chicago, hit home with our young people when she spoke of the experience of being a little girl, going to school for the first time, not with excitement and joy, but with a stern warning from her mother never, ever to speak Spanish at school. Her mother knew all too well how that child could be made to be an outsider, how she could be rejected by the other children if her differences were too much on display. And all our young people—all five thousand of them—responded to these gospel messages powerfully, as a palpable sense of compassion was stirred up in them. The Triennium website sums up what I witnessed perfectly: “Here’s My Heart” expresses our deepest desire to be part of something bigger and more beautiful than the tiny flicker of our own candles. It speaks of passion and identity. It speaks of purpose and action.
Every day we experienced worship that was beautiful and moving, yes, but worship that was also a call to action. This one of the purposes of worship: to equip us to be God’s people in a world that needs our care. In some ways our young people can find themselves waiting at the gate, too. They see what is happening all around them, in their classrooms, and on their playing fields, but also in our world. They learn young that they will sometimes need to navigate the storms of anxiety and fear. They learn young what racism and bullying are, either as witnesses, or as recipients, or both. They learn young what loss is. And it feels to them like it takes a long time for us to welcome them in, to a place where their voices can be heard, their ideas honored, and their energy set free to accomplish the things they long to do.
Our young people want to make this world better. And for some of them, the gospel is at the heart of that deep desire, the desire to be part of something bigger and more beautiful than the tiny flicker of their own candles; the desire to live into their passion and identity; the desire to live, not just in the world among people, but in the world, taking action on behalf of its people. You could see it in them, as they walked forward to take communion: that desire to be a part of something bigger and more beautiful. You could hear it in them, as they lifted their voices to sing: the longing to know that their faith can make a difference in this world. They don’t want to be stuck, waiting at the gate, for us to understand and receive joyfully, gratefully, everything they have to offer.
Our young people arrived home from their week at Triennium, having been given a taste of something. A glimpse of something. Unlike the poor man Lazarus, who is left waiting at the gate by the man he hopes will feed him, they did not stay outside in the cold, unfed. They were fed with the bread of life and the cup of salvation. They were fed with scripture, and challenged to understand it deeply; they were nurtured with music that spoke to them. They were given the gospel, in all its challenge and complexity, and then they were told—it’s time for you to go, and take this with you.
At the end of our parable, the rich man is the one who is left, waiting, and the poor man is the one who has the place of honor next to Father Abraham. Jesus’ words are stern. No one is to be left waiting outside for our care and love. No one is to be left unfed or untended. No one is to be treated as less than human.
At the end of the parable, we are offered an opportunity. Will we hear the words of Moses and the prophets? Will we heed the words of the one who rose from the dead? Or will we leave those in need waiting at the gate? Will we help to empower our youth do what they are ready to do… to encourage them to tend that passion for justice that is already on fire within them? Will we follow as they lead us where Jesus is calling us to go?
Thanks be to God. Amen.
(1) Mitzi J. Smith, “Commentary on Luke 16:19-31,” Working Preacher, September 29, 2019, http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4167.