Luke 16:19-31

“Between you and us a great chasm has been fixed” (v.26).

We must remember that this is a parable; it unapologetically transcends history. This is not a historical account of any particular person who was extraordinarily greedy or evil. It is a story about all of us. This parable is not only about first-century Palestinian economics, class, and culture, but, because (as a parable) it is not mere history, it is also about the whole world, in every age. While we live in a vastly different landscape than its original hearers, our world still pings with resemblances. After all, just like the rich man, we are still proficient in making chasms.

One contemporary portrait with teeth just as sharp as this parable is Bong Joon-ho’s 2019, South Korean psychological roller coaster of a film, Parasite. The scathingly-honest, anti-classism narrative contrasts two families: the blue-collar Kims and the not-so-modestly wealthy Park family. Mr. Park can’t stand the smell of his driver, Mr. Kim, who is more commodity than person to him, and Mr. Kim’s covetous hatred of Mr. Park boils over, reminding the viewer, in shocking and horrifying ways, that classism has nothing but disastrous ends. While Joon-ho takes a different route in his story than Jesus does in the parable, both conclude by begging a question of their audience: What are the natural conclusions of chasm building? Where can this get us, other than suffering?[1] And so, this parable is also about the chasms in present-day South Korea.

Broadening the scale and stepping back in time, Victor Hugo asked the same question in Les Misérables. Originally published in 1862, the French novel has been adapted several times for film, television, for the stage (musical theatre), and a film version of the musical. Why is this story being told over and over again? Yes, the redemption of Valjean and the despair of Javert, the salvation of Fantine and the grace of Cosette, the love of Marius and the passion of Enjolras certainly play their part, but I think there is something about the haunting voices of the suffering masses that we can’t turn off. The title itself, “The Miserables,” points a finger at us and asks, Are you causing the misery of others, or are you welcoming the waif, dressing wounds, forgiving debts, bearing the burdens of others? Are you building chasms or tearing them down? And so, this parable is also about the chasms in 19th-century Europe.

NPR recently reported that “the number of people currently enslaved in the world has grown by 10 million in the last five years.” Modern slavery “refers to a spectrum of exploitative practices like forced labor, forced marriage and human trafficking. As of 2021, 50 million people were estimated to endure such conditions. Some form of modern slavery exists in nearly every country in the world, the report found.”[2] We must ask, all of us, How am I participating in the growth of slavery in the world? If we think we don’t, it may just be that our chasm keeps us comfortably unaware. And so, this parable is also about the chasms in the headlines of NPR.

I used to make a trip downtown in Chicago every week or two, and I usually walked the same route from Union Station—east on W. Adams, then north on N. State or N. Dearborn, depending on where I was headed—and every time I would pass Tom. At first, I didn’t know his name. At first, he was just the guy with the cardboard sign, asking for money, who rolled the right leg of his jeans up to the knee and pulled his tube sock down to the ankle to expose a huge sore on his leg that was so deep you could see the bone. His sign asked for money, but it was his leg that made you pay attention. Tom was young, probably in his late thirties or early forties. But I soon learned that Tom’s mom just passed away and that he was suffering from congestive heart failure. He showed me the doorway of a café where he slept every night. I knew his name, Tom, just like the rich man knew Lazarus’. I haven’t seen Tom in four years, but I still think of him and his leg and his mom and his heart. And I wonder if I really did enough for him. I wonder where he is; he doesn’t sleep in the same spot anymore, not the last time I looked for him. And so, this parable is also about the chasms on the streets of Chicago. But it is even closer than that.

Question #1: Where was Lazarus in the parable?

“At [the rich man’s] gate lay a poor man named Lazarus” (v.20).

Question #2: Who is at our gates?

This parable is also about the chasms at our own gates.

A friend of mine travels regularly for work. A driving service sends a car to pick him up from his house (i.e., “from his gate”) and take him to the airport. Recently, a new driver arrived early at his house and rang his doorbell, looking somewhat timid and maybe even a little terrified. His name is Agba. My friend greeted Agba and offered his hand to shake. “When I shook his hand, Agba looked at me like I was from another planet,” my friend told me. On the drive, Agba informed him that in the month he’s been driving, this was the first time someone offered to shake his hand. The first time. Eventually he said that he is a Muslim. My friend said that it’s okay, that he loves everybody, and Agba said, “I can tell.” The chasm got smaller at that gate.

“Send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames” (v.24).

Even with the divine reversal in the parable, the rich man “continues to think of Lazarus as nothing more than a servant or dog, who is to fetch something for the master,” writes Amy Jill Levine.[3] Even in eternity, the rich man has not changed. That’s why C.S. Lewis says in The Great Divorce that eternity works retrospectively,[4] because the chasm which this man built in life for his own pleasure is now the chasm which causes his suffering in death. His torment is that he sees his life for what it was: the creation of another’s hell. His neglect of Lazarus in life is the fire that pains him in death.

In John Wesley’s sermon On Visiting the Sick, he asserted, without mincing his words: “Surely there are… works of piety, which are real means of grace… And those that neglect them, do not receive the grace which otherwise they might. Yea, and they lose, by a continued neglect, the grace which they had received.” He even goes on to say “that the continuance in works of mercy is necessary to salvation.”[5]

When we neglect those at our gate, we neglect the salvation God wants to bring about in our own lives. There’s no way to get around it. We have to be there in the flesh, acting in direct opposition to classism and status seeking, reflecting the image of the One who did not consider equality with God something to be exploited.

Amy Jill Levine puts it this way, “Some people, we learn, will never change. They condemn themselves to damnation even as their actions condemn others to poverty… Heed the commands to aid the poor and the sick and hungry, or you will eventually suffer worse poverty, greater pains, deeper hunger. Do not just contribute to the food drive, but invite the hungry into your home. Do not just put money in the collection plate, but use your resources to provide jobs and support for those in need. Do not treat the sick as burdens, but as beloved family members who deserve love and care. Know the names of the destitute; each has a story to tell.”[6]

The good news is that God’s Spirit empowers the church, we post-resurrection, post-ascension, post-Pentecost people to live out this way. And when we don’t, we are given the grace of conviction and we turn around. Where we find ourselves building chasms, may we repent, perhaps together echoing the words of Walter Brueggemann when he prays,

“The news is that God’s wind is blowing.

It may be a breeze that

cools and comforts.

It may be a gust that

summons you to notice.

It may be a storm that blows you where you have

never been before.

Whatever the wind is in your life,

pay attention to it…

and the blessing of God,

Father, Son, and Spirit,

will abide with you always.”[7]

______________________________

[1] Parasite is rated R for sexual content, language, and violence. Viewer discretion is strongly advised.

[2] Juliana Kim, “No region is 'immune' as the number of people in 'modern slavery' climbs to 50 million,” NPR, September 13, 2022. https://www.npr.org/sections/goatsandsoda/2022/09/13/1122714064/modern-slavery-global-estimate-increase

[3] Amy Jill Levine, Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 2014), 288.

[4] C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1946), 69.

[5] John Wesley, “On Visiting the Sick,” Nazarene Bible College. http://nbc.whdl.org/sites/default/files/resource/book/EN_John_Wesley_098_on_visiting_the_sick.pdf)

[6] Levine, 294.

[7] Walter Brueggemann, Prayers for a Privileged People (Nashville: Abington Press, 2008), 183.