Luke 16:19-31
Vicar Anja Helmon Where are Your Chasms? 9/29/2013
Ahhh… so THIS is what it’s like from up here! Hmmm… you all seem so far away… me up here and you so far down there…. It’s not really comfortable with this big gap between us… In fact… I’m moving. I’m closin’ the gap!
<move to top of steps>
Yeah, this is better. I mean, there’s still a gap between us, but it’s not quite so… big. I suppose, if I really wanted to close the gap, I could come down there, I’d be walking the aisle between all of you. And… maybe I will on another sermon. But… for this one, perhaps it’s appropriate that there’s still a bit of a gap between us. A chasm, so to speak. Because that’s what I want to talk about. Spaces, gaps, chasms…
Where are the chasms in your life?
There’s a chasm in our gospel today. Of course, this chasm is described to us in the afterlife. We are told that “there is a fixed chasm” between the rich person and Lazarus. You know, the first time I ever heard this story, I thought this chasm was physical… an actual split in the earth or something, so that Lazarus and Abraham are way up there, and the rich guy is down there… but now, I’m not so sure.
There are different kinds of chasms, and the story doesn’t say what kind it is. Just think about the chasms we see every day. Perhaps the most obvious one we see nowadays is in politics… ugh… just look at republicans and democrats. What a chasm we have there, huh?! Not only do we have two groups who refuse to connect, but then they make it worse by throwing out accusations at each other. Greedy, entitled, stupid, lazy… we hear it all. And the chasm grows.
But it’s not just in politics today… we have definitely seen it in history when we tried to pretend that separate can be equal. And we all know from experience that “Separate but equal,” is anything but equal.
So, there are political and racial chasms. But there are more personal ones, too. Often, these are gaps we would like to fill… like when you first move to a new city and you don’t know anyone. Many of you have grown up here, and may not have experienced this, but I remember when I first moved to New Jersey after college. I didn’t know anyone, and I really wanted to find that group of people who I could hang out with. But… pretty much everyone I met already had a community. It wasn’t that they weren’t open to having me tag along, they just never thought to invite me. And… with this kind of chasm, there was only so much I could do to close it. The real power lay with them, and they didn’t really feel the chasm. It was there, but they didn’t notice it. And so they didn’t close it.
I think that’s part of why it was so great coming here. As a visitor, as someone new… an outsider, I felt a chasm when I walked in those doors. But it didn’t last long. You didn’t let it. You went out of your way to talk to me, connect with me, welcome me… some of you even welcomed me when I came to visit before you knew I was going to be the new intern. I have quickly felt like I am part of this community!
Of course, some churches are better at welcoming newcomers than others. I’ve been to churches where no one said anything to me, and it’s hard. As the newcomer, you really feel that chasm. For all churches, though, even here, I think it’s harder for people who don’t fit in for some reason. Maybe they look different, or they dress different, or they act different. One of my classes last year had us visit a church that was intentionally inclusive of transgender people. I didn’t know what to expect, and I have to admit, I felt a bit uncomfortable walking up to the church. Do you know, though, that they had people at the doors of the church who greeted every one of us, including us heterosexual, boring strangers, with a huge hug?!?
Now, I am not saying we should do the same thing! In fact, it was a little uncomfortable at first, but my point is, they went out of their way to welcome us, even though we were the ones who were different. And… that chasm quickly disappeared. While I was worshiping with them, I thought to myself… if even one of the people here, in this church, came to my church, how would I receive them? I’d like to say that I would be greet them warmly… go out of my way to talk with them… but to be honest, I’m not so sure.
We humans tend to treat people who are different from us… differently. It’s not that we’re mean to them, but if they sit at a table, having coffee, we don’t know what we would say. Or we worry that they’ll think we are singling them out somehow. At least, that’s what I do. And so… the chasm remains. And now we are the ones “fixing the chasm,” even though we are the ones in power. We may not be aware the chasm is even there.
Today’s Gospel is trying to wake us up to our chasms. It asks every one of us… what chasms have you fixed into place?
The chasm in today’s Gospel did not suddenly appear when Lazarus and the rich person died. It was always there. It’s just that, when the rich person was comfortable at home, he didn’t WANT to close the gap. Now… I am saying HE and not “person” because I need to pick a gender and “he” is, of course, what the bible uses. He was just fine having that chasm there. It was the poor person, the one in need, who wanted the chasm closed. And Lazarus didn’t even want it closed, really… just close enough to grab a few scraps of food.
But, as often happens, the one who is in need is NOT the one who has the power to bring change. The rich guy in our story was comfortable with things the way they were. And you know what? We can’t really judge him. We do the same thing. You know what I mean… we’ve all done it. Getting on 405 by my house, I pass that corner where there’s always someone standing with a sign… asking for money, or food, or work. Sometimes I give money, but sometimes I don’t. And at these times, I admit, I’m grateful for that window that separates us. Aren’t you? We’re grateful when the light turns green because it means we don’t have to make eye contact. Let’s be honest… if Lazarus was standing on your street corner, what would you do?
But… what I think is the most powerful part of today’s Gospel, is that these chasms remain after life. And you know why they remain? Because the rich person keeps it fixed!!! I know… it doesn’t seem like it. After all, the rich person IS asking for Abraham to send Lazarus to him. But WHO does the rich person speak to? He doesn’t talk to Lazarus. He doesn’t ask Lazarus for help, or for forgiveness. He still sees Lazarus as a servant, as the poor guy who isn’t good enough to make eye contact. Instead, the rich person speaks to Abraham – in the original text, the rich guy doesn’t even speak to Sarah… he speaks to the only person who he thinks is his equal. And… it is in the rich person’s insistence to avoid actually engaging with Lazarus that the rich person keeps that chasm fixed.
I wonder, too, if there is significance in that the rich person wants Lazarus to come to him. When I look at the chasms in my own life, I am reminded of the awful fact that, although I have lived in the same house for 10 years, I only know a handful of my neighbors. It’s not that I don’t want to meet them… I would LOVE to meet them. But, leaving the safety of my own doors, crossing the street, and knocking on someone else’s door is scary! It’s uncomfortable. And so, I allow that chasm to remain. I stay in the safety of my walls, and I don’t cross the street.
You would think that a group of people would be more likely to cross that chasm… break free of our walls, but the same thing often happens with groups… and yes, even with churches. As soon as we have a physical space, a building, a chasm is born… the chasm between us and whatever is on the other side of these walls. We are great about inviting others in… I mean, how great is it that we just had Mary’s Place here? But we struggle to leave our walls… to explore new, often poorer, neighborhoods. To cross the street.
And so I ask again… where are your chasms? Not just the ones where you want the change… where you want to feel a connection… but where are the comfortable chasms? Where are the chasms that support your lifestyle? The ones that isolate someone else. Because THOSE are the ones that trap you, even though you are the one in control.
Maybe it’s the chasm that enables you to not go talk to that person who you see at some event, sitting alone, who stands apart. Or maybe it’s the chasm that requires us, as a church, to leave the safety of these walls and cross the street.
Today’s Gospel is asking us… every one of us… as a person, and as a community,
Whose table will you sit at? Which road will we cross?