![]() |
|
|||||||||||||||
|
|
||||||||||||||||
| Rev. Lorene E. Wunder September 30, 2007 The Life That Really Is Life Of all the things I learned while in seminary in Chicago , perhaps the most important and far-reaching lesson was how to deal with panhandlers. Shortly after I had moved there, I was on my way home from class when I was approached by a woman with a small child in a stroller, telling me she'd been down to visit a family member at the University of Chicago hospitals just a few blocks away, but now she didn't have enough for the bus fare home. I was glad to give the woman some money to cover the fare, and I walked away feeling like a generous and good person. Then, about an hour and a half later, I watched as the same woman gave the same spiel to someone outside my apartment building. My good vibrations changed quickly to feelings of anger and resentment. A year or so later, during a conversation with one of the Hyde Park police officers, I found out that one of the neighborhood street people who frequently asked for help was actually making a very comfortable living off of her begging. The fives, tens and twenties thrown at her by passers by amounted to thousands of dollars of tax-free income each year, enough to own a car and rent an apartment in another part of town. Before long, I had moved from sympathy to cynicism and suspicion. I never quite figured it out, but when I moved to Cedar Rapids , I thought I had left those requests for money behind. But of course, dealing with people asking for help is a regular part of anyone's job when you work at a church. I know sometimes we have been “taken in”, but I also hope that sometimes we've truly helped someone. We're limited in what we can do—less than $1000 per year for things like a bus pass for someone who just got a job, or helping with a rent deposit. But every once in awhile, we do something right, like the young man we helped get off the street by helping with bus passes and even a few months of cell phone service so that he could get a job. He still stops in every once in awhile to let us know how he's doing. While we may not always know the best way to help others, the Bible is quite clear that we should care for the poor and oppressed. The story of Lazarus and the Rich Man is a perfect example. The story Jesus tells is one of extremes. The Rich Man is described as dressed in “purple and fine linen” (16:19), a clear indication that he was a man of means and status, far above the ordinary citizens. He is not just wealthy, he is super rich. Lazarus, on the other hand, is not only poor, but covered in sores and, to add to his sense of alienation, the sores are licked by dogs, which made Lazarus ritually unclean. He longed for the bread that the guests at the rich man's feasts used to wipe the grease from their fingers and then cast away under the table, but even this is denied Lazarus. The two characters are polar opposites of one another, one enjoying all the comforts the world has to offer, while the other suffered immeasurably from hunger, disease, and alienation. In the second act of the story, the tables are turned. After both men die, Lazarus is carried by angels to the bosom of Abraham, which was the highest possible reward one could hope for. But the rich man found himself in agony, tormented by flames. Hades, by the way, was the place of the dead, where everyone went when they died, whether they were righteous or wicked. 1 In death, the tables are turned, so that when they both arrive in Hades it is the rich man who suffers, and Lazarus who has the place of honor. Which, by the way, would have been a complete surprise to the first hearers of this story. It was commonly believed that blessings like wealth and good health were an indication that one was blessed by God, whereas illness, poverty and hardship were indications of God's displeasure. 2 This “prosperity gospel” is still preached today, by people like Joel Osteen and T.D. Jakes. So the rich man is in misery, but at some point is able to notice Lazarus and Abraham and cry out for help with his situation. Send Lazarus over here with a cool drink! Send Lazarus to warn my five brothers, so they don't end up suffering like me! Patient and unwavering, Abraham explains that the rich man had his chance during his lifetime, but now it was too late. The rich man may have believed he was blessed in his life, but it turns out he missed the boat. And what was the charge laid against the rich man? Was he suffering simply because he was so rich, so that this story is a blanket condemnation of wealth? No, the problem, as the story is set up, is that the rich man did not pay attention. He had not paid attention to what the Torah and the prophets taught—that we should care for the poor and the oppressed. And he had not looked beyond his own concerns to consider the concerns and needs of others. That there was someone outside his gate who was in need, and that he himself might be able to alleviate some of that suffering, was simply not on his radar screen. Now, it can be hard to see ourselves in this parable because the rich man is so rich, and Lazarus was so poor, and who among us has someone outside our door every morning and evening, asking for help? What about the rest of us? What are we supposed to do with this parable? I read a story this week—a true story—about another rich man who encountered not just one, but hundreds of Lazaruses. Scott Neeson was a young, Hollywood exec, living the life that many dream of—a multi-million dollar home, a big yacht, an expensive sport car, and the ability to travel anywhere he wanted, first-class. It was while on a backpacking trip to Cambodia in 2003 that he first met street children, “begging for handouts and trolling in the dumps for anything they could sell.” 3 Rather than ignoring them, or heading quickly back home and trying to put the images out of his mind, he gave them what money he could. So moved was Neeson by the plight of these children that he began making frequent trips back to Cambodia, while still keeping his job as head of international marketing for Sony Pictures. During one of those trips to Cambodia , Neeson received a call from his office regarding problems with a publicity tour for his latest film. He describes what happened: “The actor who was on tour was having quite a serious meltdown because the private jet didn't have the right amenities for him and he didn't want to get on the jet. The whole tour was in jeopardy, and…[his staff said to me] their life wasn't meant to be this difficult... And I thought: I don't want this to be my world. Here we've got this jet sitting on the tarmac, and I'm sitting with these dying children, and I just wanted to scream into the phone, ‘Come down here for a day and see what it's all about!'” 4 So Scott Neeson sold his house, the yacht, and the sports car and moved to Phnom Penh , using his own money to start the Cambodian Children's Fund. Since 2003, he has built four centers, providing 300 of Cambodia's most vulnerable children education, health care and vocational training, Neeson has poured virtually all of his resources into the Cambodian Children's Fund, but he says, “I've never been happier in my life. Every day is an emotional roller coaster, but I get up early in the morning, and I can't wait to get into work. How many people in the world can say that?” 5 Scott Neeson's story is, of course, the polar opposite of Jesus' parable. In this story, the rich man does take notice of the plight of the poor, and in response shows great compassion and courage and joyful, selfless generosity. Like me, you may find Neeson's story both wonderful and overwhelming. It's great that he did something like this, but what about the rest of us who don't have the personal fortune to give away, or have family and obligations that can't just be left behind? Here's the thing that is so key to this story: Scott Neeson is not only able to help hundreds of children, he has found that doing so brings true joy and compassion and satisfaction in his own life. His story is a living example of what Paul wrote to Timothy: “They are to do good, to be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share, thus storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of the life that really is life.” (1 Timothy 6.18-19) In letting go of his worldly possessions and position, in sharing so generously what he had, Scott Neeson not only made a difference, he found the life that really is life. And that is the key to all of this. Few of us are called like Neeson to give everything away. Few are called to far away places, although some are, like Drs. Les and Cynthia Morgan, Presbyterian mission workers in Bangladesh . But all of us are called to pay attention to the needs in the community where we are, and to make a difference in our corner of the world, no matter how small. And when we do what God calls us to do, God promises that we will find joy and satisfaction in it. It starts with compassion, by paying attention to the needs of those around us. And then we use the gifts that God has given us: For some, it is offering a listening ear, simply being with others in their difficulty For others, it is offering time and talent to an organization or a family or individual Others have the gift of vision, of being able to see new ways, new possibilities, new directions for public policy and structure. Some have the gift of advocacy, of studying an issue and working to help others understand it, so that we can make the necessary changes All of us, to some degree or another, have the gift of money, shared with agencies or individuals to make a difference And there are two more things that all of us can and should do. First, we can vote, looking at the needs of the community before our own self-interest. And, finally, we can pray, for the hungry and homeless, for the working poor, for individuals and families and children who are on the edge. So many of these things are already happening in the life of our congregation, in what you are doing here, and what you do as individuals. Attention is being paid. But we can never lose sight of the fact that there is still more to do, and God calls us to go ever deeper into compassion for the needs of others. Friends, I encourage you to go out into the world this week with your eyes open, to do good, to be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share. And by doing so, may you know joy and satisfaction in taking hold of the life that really is life. Amen. 1 Alan Culpepper, “Luke” in The New Interpreters' Bible . Nashville : Abingdon, 1995. p. 317 Go Back 3 Bob Abernethy and William Bole, The Life of Meaning: Reflections on Faith, Doubt, and Repairing the World . New York : Seven Stories Press, 2007. p. 389 Go Back
|
|
|||||||||||||||
|
First Presbyterian
Church of Cedar Rapids Copyright © 2003-2007 First Presbyterian Church of Cedar Rapids. All rights reserved. |
|||||||||||||||