Rich man and Lazarus. Hoarded

It was not necessarily that the rich man was being cruel (See Luke 16:19-31). He may not have deliberately ignored Lazarus at his gate. Maybe there were so many beggars, he felt that he couldn’t feed just one; and, if it was known that he was feeding one beggar, many more would come and then what? Or maybe he thought that Lazarus was poor due to his own folly or lack of insight, and why should he, the rich man, pay for that? Or maybe he never actually saw Lazarus there at his gate. Maybe his gaze was always fixed elsewhere.  

It was a different situation altogether after they both died. The rich man was suffering and had no hesitation in asking Lazarus to come and cool his tongue – proving, thereby, that he had known of Lazarus’ existence, for he knew his name. Lazarus cannot go to the rich man and neither can he be sent to warn the rich man’s brothers: if they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, they will not listen to one who rises from the dead. This latter statement will sound different to us than to Jesus’ original listeners, as we know that Jesus himself was the one to rise from the dead. But do we listen to him, any more than the rich man and his brothers listened to Moses and the prophets? Do we allow our reading of the scriptures to influence how we respond to people in or daily lives? Do we truly see those around us, or are we like the rich man, hoarding our riches and refusing to allow it to flow to those in need?

I am sure most of us would deny the latter possibility. I am not just talking about the poor/rich issue, although that is one to be taken seriously. What I am also wondering is who is it who is in need at our gates? Do we see them – and, if so, how do we respond? This is something for us all to ponder individually, but also for us to think about as a church. Are there people outside our churches, whom we are ignoring? Are we excluding people?

This does apply to the poor, to the homeless, to those who may literally be outside our church buildings, and the response may well not be simple, although often churches are involved in charities and activities that would apply here. But stop, pause, think … are there other people whom we could be excluding? Are there other ways that we are hoarding the riches of our faith to ourselves, while saying to others ‘not you’, if hopefully not as crudely as that?

What about our theology? Does that prevent people from experiencing the overwhelming love of God for them – and should that make us think a bit more theologically? What about our worship: do we make it easy for the stranger to participate, or is it really only accessible for those who know ‘church’? What about our church buildings? How comfortable would it be for people to walk inside? What about us? How welcoming are we? Do we embrace the stranger, or do we huddle with those we know? Where is our gaze? Where are we looking? Can we actually see those individuals whom we might be excluding, or are we labelling them? Are we excluding people because we cannot see them? In so doing, are we preventing them from seeing the love God has for them? 

Is there anything we can do about these issues? Is it possible to make our services both accessible to those who are new and feed those who are regulars? Can we welcome the stranger without making them feel overwhelmed, or as if they need to join three different committees within minutes of walking through the door? It is easy to talk in a Christian language, but maybe less easy to assess how we do so, or to inhabit the mindset of someone who has never been to church. I have no answers, only questions. But it is worth bearing in mind that we follow a God who serves, who gives, who empties out. We do not worship a God who holds love back, but one who freely gives. We follow a God who asks us to do the same. One who asks us to do the same only because we are not doing it in our own strength, or emptying ourselves out, but allowing God to do this through us, allowing the wellspring of the Spirit to flow through us, and in us.

Let us not hold those riches back.