Luke 16: 19-31
One of my pet peeves is
to walk into a restaurant and have the server look at Mike and me and say,
“Just two?” I know she or he wants to make sure we are not waiting for others
to join us. But it makes us feel like two isn’t enough, like we should have brought
a friend or two to join us. It’s even worse when I go to eat by myself. “Just
one?”
I know that I am more
than ‘just’ in God’s eyes. I know that if I am alone or with others, God knows
who I am and who is with me.
It’s interesting that
the rich man is not named, but Lazarus is. Because I was curious, I checked the
Internet. The name Lazarus is the Greek and Latin version of the name Eleazar,
which is also the name of one of Aaron and Moses’ brothers. It means “my God
has helped.”
The scene concludes with
the rich man asking Abraham to send someone to tell his brothers that they need
to change. But Abraham says, “You all have ignored the warnings of Moses and
the Prophets. Even if someone returns from the dead, your brothers won’t believe
him and change their ways.”
Jesus tells this
parable, not to portray what heaven and hell are like, but rather to teach us
that each person is known and noticed by God, and therefore worthy of notice
and care by each of us. We are to pay attention to the teachings of Scripture
and Jesus, who has returned from the dead, and never treat one another
as “just.”
During the eight years I
have been here, I have encouraged you often to pay attention and notice those
whom many don’t see. So, it’s appropriate this last Sunday that I get one more
chance to give you that reminder. A couple of stories:
We often don’t notice
the bus people who clear tables at restaurants. Mike and I often eat a late
lunch at a restaurant. There is one busser who does such a fantastic job of
clearing the tables that I was watching him. He works fast and thoroughly. I
noticed how heavy the tubs of cleared dishes are, and how strong he is. As we
left the restaurant, I went to speak with him and to tell him I noticed how
hard he works. I wanted him to know he was not “just” in my eyes.
In 1904, a schoolteacher named
Lewis W. Hine started photographing immigrants as they arrived at Ellis Island.
Hine was working as a teacher and photographer at the Ethical Culture School in
New York City when he started taking his students on field trips to Ellis
Island to show them the conditions of millions of immigrants. He believed that if people could see images of the abuse
and injustices that were happening in America, it might make social reform a
reality.
And, eventually, his
dream started coming true. He's now known for creating images that brought to
light scenes of child labor, poor living conditions, unemployment, immigration,
and human ingenuity. So, let’s look at some of his images.
Immigrants brought so
little into their new lives.
Women did piece work,
many huddled into small homes
Children worked in
unsafe conditions in factories
Children picked cotton
Hine’s images showed
that the powerful viewed these immigrants and children as “just”. They used and
abused them as things, chattel, as worth little. They owned them and held power
over them nearly as much as slave owners held power over their slaves. They
said, “They are just immigrants. They are just children.”
Unfortunately, many
people are still treated as “just” today. “They are just undocumented immigrants.
They are just Muslims. They are just black. They are just cops. They are just
Democrats. They are just Republicans.” And so forth. We have forgotten, in our un-civil
discourse, that no one is “just.”
You have been more to me
than “just parishioners.” You have been individuals with personalities and your
own ways of being God’s children. We have not always agreed with each other,
but we have all tried to please God. I will pray for you as persons and as a
congregation. And I hope you will pray for me as I face this transition into
retirement.
Please pray with me.
Jesus, you have given us stories to help us understand you. Continue to teach
and guide and challenge us. Show us how to love each other as more than “just”
anything, rather as fully embodying you and your Holy Spirit. In your holy
name, Amen