The Life that Truly is Life (Sept 28)

Readings, 1 Timothy 6:6-19 and Luke 16:19-31
 Image, The Rich Man and Lazarus, David Wojkowicz
 
We likely know Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, or at least a filmed adaptation (with or without muppets). Wealthy, miserly old Scrooge is visited by three ghosts – of Christmas past, present, and future – and told to change his ways or be forever cursed. Scrooge is confronted by the harm of his greed, the pain caused by his profit-seeking and closed heart. At first, Scrooge resists the lessons, until seeing that his own future death will be met with no tenderness or grief (but relief and giddiness) and pledges to change his ways (and in so doing seek to prevent the death of poor Tiny Tim).
 
What I’ve left out of this little summary is an important visitation that occurs before the ghosts. Jacob Marley, Scrooge’s deceased business partner, equal in his greed and miserliness, appears before Scrooge, weighed down by chains and money boxes. Marley has been cursed to wander the earth so encumbered, and warns Scrooge that the same fate awaits him should he refuse to change his ways.
 
When considering this tale next to today’s parable, Dickens seems more generous than Jesus. For if we consider the rich man to be Jacob Marely, begging Father Abraham to send Lazarus to the house of his brothers to warn them of the awaiting agony, Abraham refuses this request. No further warnings, They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them. No, father Abraham; The rich man persists, if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent. But there shall be no Marley, there shall be no ghosts: If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.
 
Perhaps Jesus’ lesson is that so tightly does greed and wealth close the heart to one’s neighbour that in reality, Scrooge would be unmoved even after his Christmas visitations. Perhaps thinking of the story of Moses, Jesus reflects on the closed heart of Pharoah, whose heart remains shut even to the most remarkable of signs; unable to release the slaves even when it would prevent him from agony.
 
Indeed, it appears that the rich man’s heart remains closed to his neighbour even in agony. For while he demonstrates concern for his brothers, this doesn’t mean much (as Jesus says elsewhere, anyone can do that). For the rich man, in the language of 1 Timothy, has wandered so far away from the faith, has, in his desire for wealth, become so trapped by senseless and harmful desires, that even in agony, even looking up to the unreachable heavens, his selfishness is untamed. For both of his pleas to Father Abraham are accompanied by demands of Lazarus – and not only demands, but indirect demands – he never addresses Lazarus directly. He speaks to Abraham, but about Lazarus, a sign that in death, as in life, the fullness of Lazarus life goes unrecognised. The chasm that exists between the rich man and Lazarus goes back a long way.
 
Indeed, as the writer of 1 Timothy makes clear, the chasm created by the love of money estranges us in three directions. It creates a chasm between the individual and their neighbour, between the individual and God, and between the individual and their own life. Those who want to be rich, declares the writer of 1 Timothy, fall into temptation and are trapped by many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, and in their eagerness to be rich some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pains.
 
As we heard Jesus say last week, we cannot serve God and money, because the love of money opens a chasm between us and God; it makes God’s wisdom and commandments a thing to be despised. This chasm in turn opens another between us and our neighbour. And in becoming estranged from God and neighbour, a further chasm will eventually open within ourselves. Our desires, our self-understanding become gnarled, twisted, and perverted around the insatiable want for riches, plunging us into ruin. For this is what has befallen the rich man of the parable: in failing to attend to the teachings of Moses and the prophets, he has become estranged from God. Failing to see Lazarus (in life and death) as a full human deserving of dignity and care, he has become estranged from his neighbour. And unable to understand his life in relation to God and neighbour, to see the chasms which had opened around him, he has become estranged from himself.
 
In contrast to this this life of estrangement and chasms, is what the reading in 1 Timothy describes as the life that truly is life. One of my absolute favourite phrases in Scripture. This phrase concludes the instructions to those rich in this life, who are told not to trust wealth, but be rich in good works, generous, sharing what they have – in such they make a good foundation for the future so that they may take hold of the life that really is life.
 
For the life that truly is life is one lived like the swallow finding a home at the altar of God. It is a life in harmonious relations with God, neighbour, and self.
 
It is a life lived in communion with God, marked by a grace-filled the enjoyment of God, the love of God’s wisdom, and an earnest attempt to live God’s way. It is a life lived in openness to our neighbour, an openness marked by a willingness to give and receive, to learn and to grow, to serve and be served in pursuit of flourishing, justice, and dignity. And it is a life lived in a rightly ordered understanding of the self – where the self is not defined by what we can claim ownership of, by numbers and acquisition, by grind and reach, but the self defined through relationships (dependence on God and interdependence with creation). This is what marks the life that truly is life, the life we learn from Moses, the Prophets, and the one who rose from the dead – the blessed and only sovereign. For after all, Jesus was more generous than Dickens, becoming himself the one risen from the dead not only to proclaim both the call to change our ways but also to make this possible through the news of his completed work, the sending of the Spirit, and the gift of the Church.
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The challenge for us then, as a people, is not to require ghosts of Christmas past, present, or future, not to need someone sent back from the dead with ill-tidings and skeletal warnings, to alert us to the widening of chasms separating us from God, neighbour, and self. Because instead of ghosts sent on the precipice of disaster, we have the completed work of Christ, the gifts of the Spirit, and the daily fellowship of the saints. We have one another to encourage, correct, and walk with down the path Jesus has opened. We, who are sent by Christ to the world, are also bound by Christ to one another. In the counsel of the Spirit, we take up the responsibility of siblings to remind each other to remain open to the words of Scripture and the presence of our neighbour. We have each other (as well as the tireless example of Saints long passed) to build bridges over chasms and to seek together, day by day in the land of the living, the life that truly is life. The life which knows a day in the house of the Lord is better than a thousand elsewhere. Like the mother of Jesus and the beloved disciple standing at the foot of the cross, we have been given by Jesus to one another to be and become a people who assist one another to pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, gentleness. [Who] Fight the good fight of the faith; [and] take hold of the eternal life. The life that truly is life.