A Parable and a Prophet | a sermon

Robin Shugart’s sermon for Sunday September 25, 2022

The last time I was invited to preach the lectionary landed on a Psalm and the lovely parable of the Prodigal Son, but this time around the texts are somewhat…feistier… It’s a little daunting when the more hopeful story is from a prophet, and the tougher one is from Jesus!  However, something I appreciate about the lectionary is how looking at texts from different parts of scripture alongside each other, and considering where they fall in relation to the liturgical calendar can offer new insights and connections that we may not have noticed before.

Let’s start by looking at this parable that’s a continuation of a broader collection of teaching that Jesus has been engaged in.  In the parable of the Dishonest Manager that Jamie preached on last week, Jesus concludes with the statement: No slave can serve two masters, for a slave will either hate the one and love the other or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth. (Luke 16:13).  Luke then tells us, “The Pharisees, who were lovers of money, heard all this, and they ridiculed him.” (v. 14).  Jesus responds to them by saying, “You are those who justify yourselves in the sight of others, but God knows your hearts, for what is prized by humans is an abomination in the sight of God.” (v. 15) and he goes on to illustrate this point by telling this parable.  Now this type of story would have been a relatively familiar one in the Jewish tradition, but Jesus is subverting a number of typical elements.  Traditionally in these stories the Rich Man would be presented as righteous and correspondingly rewarded in the afterlife, but in Jesus’ version, he clearly is not.  It would also be surprising that the poor man receives a name, Lazarus, while the Rich Man remains anonymous.  Jesus sets up a clear contrast between the Rich Man and Lazarus.  The Rich Man is exorbitantly wealthy, dressed in expensive purple linen that the average person couldn’t dream of affording and feasting extravagantly not just on special occasions, or even a regular basis, but daily.  In stark contrast to this, Lazarus lies just outside the gate living a life of poverty and suffering, where just the leftovers from the Rich Man’s table would go a long way towards alleviating his hunger.  There could not be two more different lives.  But they have something in common – they die.  And when they die they again end up in opposing situations, but this time their circumstances have been flipped.  The Rich Man lands in Hades where we are told he is tormented, while Lazarus is carried away by angels to be with Abraham.  It’s probably important to mention at this point that I don’t believe that Jesus’ primary purpose here is to offer insight into the nature of the afterlife.  He’s using the ancient Near Eastern concept of Hades (in Greek) or Sheol (in Hebrew) which was generally understood as the place of the dead.  In the Psalms references to Sheol focus on it as place of separation from God, since Yahweh is the God of the living, but some later Jewish literature introduces this concept of divisions within Sheol for the wicked and righteous.[1]  So Jesus is using the established cultural understanding about the afterlife to illustrate what is ultimately in the hearts of those who have chosen to serve Mammon over God.

What’s revealed is that the Rich Man seems to have carried a sense of entitlement beyond the grave when he asks Abraham to send Lazarus to dip his finger in water to alleviate the Rich Man’s suffering.  The fact that Lazarus is identifiable to him confirms that he was not ignorant of his presence during his life, but instead chose not to respond to Lazarus’ suffering.  And now, in the afterlife, despite their contrasting positions, the Rich Man seems to believe that Lazarus should be subservient to him.  Abraham responds by simply reminding the Rich Man that in life their positions were reversed, and then observes that a “great chasm” has been fixed between them “so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.”  It’s unusual that anyone would want to voluntarily leave a place of comfort to visit a place of torment, and it appears to suggest that if it weren’t for the chasm, Lazarus might respond to the Rich Man’s plea for mercy, despite the Rich Man’s failure to do the same for Lazarus during their lives.  Nevertheless, that chasm has made it impossible, but the Rich Man has yet another request.  He is concerned that his five brothers who are still living will suffer the same fate he has, and so could Abraham send Lazarus to warn them?  Abraham observes that they have access to the law of Moses and the prophets which, if they listen to their instructions on how to live in alignment with God, will lead them to avoiding the same outcome as their brother.  But the Rich Man is convinced that this is insufficient and that they would only repent if they receive this message from someone who has died.  And in a lovely bit of foreshadowing, Abraham disagrees with this assessment and claims that if they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, even someone rising from the dead will not convince them to repent.

This type of parable can easily prompt questions of whether Jesus is claiming that salvation is earned through good deeds, but I don’t think that’s the point Jesus is making here.  Lazarus doesn’t appear to have done anything to earn his place at Abraham’s side.  Jesus has introduced this parable by pointing out that God knows what is in human hearts (v. 15) and throughout the gospels Jesus challenges the assumption that simply “doing the right thing” leads to God’s favour if those actions are not motivated by a heart that loves and wants to serve God.  This type of parable would usually portray the Rich Man’s wealth as an indication of God’s favour, but in Jesus’ version this is not the case.  Despite the honour and success the Rich Man received in life, his heart is revealed to be full of selfishness, greed, and pride.  This is demonstrated not only by his failure to care for Lazarus during his life, but also by his expectations in death.  Even while being tormented in the afterlife he shows no signs of repentance and is only concerned about what Lazarus can do to serve him and his family.  While the Rich Man’s wealth may have led him to believe he was a recipient of God’s favour, he has chosen to serve his wealth instead of God.  Jesus is offering a warning that what humans value is different from what God values, and how they invest their time and energy and money, is a reflection of what is inside their heart, what they truly love.  Actions matter, but they matter because they reflect what is in the heart of the person doing them.

So now let’s look at our prophet, Jeremiah.  Although he is known as the ‘Weeping Prophet,’ our passage tonight is one of a few hopeful moments in that book, despite the fact it starts off looking fairly bleak.  Jerusalem is under siege by Babylon, and Jeremiah himself has been imprisoned by the current King of Judah, Zedekiah, who has taken offense at Jeremiah’s prophecy that God was going to allow Jerusalem to fall under Babylonian power.  So Jeremiah is essentially doubly imprisoned, and yet this is the moment when the Word of the Lord comes to him to say that he is about be given an opportunity to redeem a piece of property from his cousin.  Now we might be more familiar with the language of redemption in relation to Jesus’ work on the cross, but to redeem something simply meant to secure the freedom of something (or someone) by paying a price.  There are several laws around redemption in the Torah in regards to property since that was the primary way that economic security could be maintained for a family.  In this case, it appears that Jeremiah’s cousin Hanamel has fallen into financial difficulty, which is unsurprising given the ongoing reality of war, and has needed to sell this piece of property in order to get by.  So Hanamel is now invoking the law found in Leviticus 25 where a relative of his can redeem it for the purchase price and it will return to their family.  It illustrates, though, how difficult the situation is for Jeremiah’s family that they need to rely on someone who is imprisoned to deliver them from financial ruin, and it doesn’t seem like a particularly good investment for Jeremiah.  As Christy Randazzo says, “It’s not common practice to invest in real estate when your enemy is literally camped outside of your city, having laid siege to your homeland and promising to annihilate every aspect of your country, from your economy to your religion.”[2]

In her book “Jeremiah: Pain and Promise”, Kathleen O’Connor explores Jeremiah through the lens of trauma studies and views the experience of the threat of destruction, the siege of Jerusalem, and the exile to Babylon as a collective experience of trauma for the people of Judah.  She identifies how the impact of disaster and trauma can result in memory fragmentation, numbing emotion, loss of language, faith, and ultimately identity, not just for individuals but for an entire community.  She makes the argument that the book of Jeremiah is designed to respond to this by reflecting the experience of the people of Judah, giving them language for their pain, and building resilience so that they can hold onto their communal identity and ultimately their faith in Yahweh.  One of the ways Jeremiah does this is through these biographical stories.  Jeremiah is not exempt from the suffering and trauma his people are experiencing, in fact, his suffering is often greater as a direct result of his prophetic calling.  O’Conner says, “In complex ways, Jeremiah’s biography is a work of social repair for rebuilding the community.  His prophetic call, prophetic sign acts, and stories of his captivities create a prism through which to see the disaster, explain it, and survive it.”[3]

This story is one of those prophetic sign acts, an embodied expression of what Jeremiah is proclaiming to be true about who God is and what God will do.  What begins as a familiar story of a family facing financial hardship during the war becomes a promise for the people of Judah to cling to which will help them survive the disaster that is unfolding.  Jeremiah goes about redeeming this field in accordance with all the legal requirements and cultural customs.  We get details of the price that was paid, the paperwork that’s drawn up, and the witnesses who were present to validate the sale.  And once this has all been done Jeremiah gives instructions to his assistant, Baruch, to place the deeds in a clay jar – the same type of jar the preserved the Dead Sea Scrolls for 2000 years – so that these documents of land ownership would be similarly preserved.  For, Jeremiah claims, “thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel: Houses and fields, and vineyards shall again be bought in this land.”  Jeremiah is purchasing this field as a radical act of hope at a time when everything around him, and everything he has been saying about what is about to happen to Jerusalem and the people of Judah indicates this is a pointless purchase.  Why buy property when your land is about to be conquered by your enemies?  Because, Jeremiah says, God will eventually restore the people of Judah to the land where they will once again be able to buy and sell, build and plant.  No matter how dire things look at the moment and how much worse they will become, God has promised to redeem the people and restore them to their land.  In purchasing this field, Jeremiah is quite literally putting his money where his mouth is and demonstrating his faith that because of God’s promise of redemption this act is not wasted, and in doing so he is calling the people of Judah to cling to that same faith.

Both Jeremiah and the Rich Man make investments that reflect what is in their heart.  Jeremiah faithfully follows the law of Moses, even though by doing so he is making an investment that he cannot profit from.  The Rich Man, on the other hand, disregards how the law directs him to care for those around him and invests in himself.  And in both these stories the actions taken don’t just have immediate impact in the present, but also have spiritual impact in the future.  In Jeremiah his questionable investment is a prophetic proclamation of his trust in God’s character and promises, and it works to hold the people of God together, helping sustain their hope and faith in God and in their future during a time when their faith and identity are at risk.  The Rich Man’s choice to invest in himself rather than God’s people doesn’t just harm Lazarus during their lifetimes, but leads to his separation from the people of God in the afterlife.  While Jeremiah’s actions orient him expectantly towards God’s mercy and deliverance, the Rich Man chooses to definitively reject God, and as a result he finds himself ultimately separated from God.  What’s most striking to me, though, is that in both instances the final outcome is beyond their control and completely dependent on a God who both delivers judgement and extends mercy.

I think as we look at these two texts alongside each other we receive an invitation from God to consider how our lives reflect what we believe about God and what we choose to serve.  How do our investments of time, energy, and money reveal what is in our hearts?  And do those investments point us and others to faith in a God who is merciful, who has promised to restore all that is broken, unjust, and evil in the world?  Liturgically we are currently in the Season of Creation, where we are invited to give particular attention to praying and caring for God’s creation.  In a time when we are sharply aware of the challenges facing us with climate change,  investing our resources in caring for the earth can seem like a futile endeavor.  But as I’ve reflected on these passages this week, I’ve been struck by how caring for creation is a prophetic expression of both serving God in the present, and professing hope in God’s promise for the future, not to abandon creation but to ultimately restore it.  As we invest in faith in the present, we depend on the One who will bring all things to completion.  In this, and in all things may we be people who live lives of prophetic hope in God’s mercy.

Amen.

[1] Bible Dictionary. 1092.

[2] https://politicaltheology.com/living-hopefully-in-a-time-of-despair-jeremiah-321-3a-6-15/

[3] O’Connor, Kathleen.  Jeremiah: Pain and Promise. 71.