Sermon: Solidarity Across the Chasm

By Joanna Lawrence Shenk

Here we are together again. I am so grateful to be a part of this community. Pat, Sheri and I have been reflecting on the gift we all gave each other last week as we gathered to grieve Katelin’s passing. It was a powerful reminder to me of why we do church every Sunday. We sing and we pray and we listen to each other and we laugh and cry so that when crisis comes we can meet it together. Each Sunday we practice forms of care for each other, and this care extends far beyond Sunday mornings into our lives and into the life of the world. 

Because of this regular practice of care, we were able to create a space last Sunday that was a balm for Steve and Katelin’s grieving community in San Jose and their families. I am so proud of who we are and that we have this superpower that is so desperately needed in our world. I am grateful we will continue to accompany each other on our sacred journey with the grief of Katelin’s passing. 

Truly to me this is an example of the original instructions we’ve been talking about during this narrative lectionary series – to be a blessing to all the families of the earth. Last Sunday was an embodiment of being a blessing to each other and our neighbors. (I heard that angels were present among us….) 

As we come to our scripture story for today, it is crucial to interpret it through the lens of our narrative lectionary series. On one level the judgement of the rich man is not surprising given the clear message in our scriptures that the people of God are called to be a blessing to all the families of the earth, that we are called to protect and care for the vulnerable and the strangers among us (and not exploit them), and that the prophets have been echoing this call throughout all of history.

The writer of the gospel of Luke has a lot to say about people who are not following God’s original instruction – and specifically people who hoard wealth. This story is the fourth of six stories about rich men in Luke. According to biblical scholar Ched Myers in his book “Healing Affluenza and Resisting Plutocracy,” this story specifically is the centerpoint of Luke’s message. 

In first century Palestine, during Roman rule, there was significant economic disparity between rich and poor, which is highlighted in our story. The rich man wears imported, luxury clothing. He feasts on fine food every day in contrast to those hearing the story who would have rarely, if ever, experienced a feast. And the rich man lives in a gated compound. According to historians the richest sector in the US economy today controls at least twice as much wealth as did the richest in the ancient Roman Empire. 

We are next introduced to the poor man outside the gate who has nothing except a name – Lazarus – which means “God is my help.” In describing Lazarus’ condition Ched points out something key that has been obscured by dominant Christianity at best, and outright denied at worst. 

The translation we heard said “at his gate was laid a beggar,” which is similar to most English translations. However the verb for “laid” in Greek is actually a lot closer to thrown down or beaten down. It would be more accurate for the verse to read: at his gate was a person beaten down and made sick by injustice. 

Ched writes, “Lazarus was made poor and sick: by debt (displaced from his land and kinship network); by disease (he has sores); and/or by discrimination from purity codes.” Lazarus was so beaten down by these forces of dispossession that he could only long for crumbs, and hoped he could get them before the dogs did.  

The social and economic disparity could not be more extreme between the two of them. Ched writes, “The chasma mega (great divide between them) portrayed in Luke’s ghostly tale should haunt us because it persists today, constructed and maintained by segregationist policies (such as redlining and law enforcement ‘bluelining’) and social architecture (such as freeway construction and urban redevelopment), but also by our own internalized class prejudices.” 

Furthermore, those in power right now have a gloves off approach to what has always been the reality in the US – they are actively seeking to dismantle what little infrastructure existed in society to bridge this overwhelming gap between the rich and those who have been made poor by systems of injustice. 

After the stark contrast between the two has been painted, Lazarus and the rich man both die. The rich man receives a burial fitting of his social standing, while nothing is mentioned of Lazarus being buried (because as a poor person he probably wasn’t). After his death Lazarus is carried by the angels to the arms of Abraham. 

At this point the story begins to deconstruct the cruel world in which Lazarus and the rich man lived. We find that the rich man is in torment and calls out to Abraham for relief. Interestingly he knows Lazarus’ name but does not address him directly. Instead, still upholding the social hierarchy, he asks Abraham to send Lazarus to him for relief, as an errand boy.

Abraham is like, “yeah, no. Lazarus does not need to endure more misery on account of you. You lived the high life while he suffered. He has now found relief and rest while you have found torment. Furthermore, the gate that separated you from Lazarus’ suffering in life has now become an uncrossable chasm. There will be no relief for you”

It’s cathartic for me to hear such a clear word about judgement on the callous wealthy given the way that plutocrats are destroying the world and dismantling social safety nets as fast as they possibly can. Calling this out was what all the Hands Off rallies were about yesterday. 

However, Ched points out that this is more than just a story about divine retribution. It is a story of apocalyptic unmasking to motivate its hearers to make different decisions than the rich man in their lives. 

“This unmasking,” Ched writes, “allows us to strip away the layers of denial and propaganda and see the world as it really is from the perspective of the poor and victims. And it inspires our imaginations with the world as it can and should be – the kindom of God.” 

In the case of the rich man in the story however, he doesn’t get it or repent for his hoarding of wealth at Lazarus’ expense. Instead he requests that Abraham send Lazarus on another errand for him, this time back to the world which tormented Lazarus to tell the rich man’s siblings about the suffering that awaits them. 

“Having ignored Lazarus at his doorstep for years, he has the gall to imagine he can bid the poor man to leave his consolation and traverse the great chasm in order to enlighten the rich man’s rich relatives.” 

Ched points out that this impulse is not unlike the revictimization that can happen today when vulnerable people are asked to tell their stories to awaken the consciousness of others, without an awareness of the emotional labor it requires of them – or the precarious position in which it can put them. 

Abraham again shuts down the rich man saying, “your siblings have Moses and the prophets – let them heed their warnings about social and economic inequality.” 

“Please!” The rich man retorts, now for a third time, “if someone comes back from the dead, surely they will repent!”  

Abraham’s response is a stunning closer. “If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.” 

This rising refers not to Lazarus rising but Jesus’ resurrection. Ched writes, “Luke insists that it is only the scriptural vision of justice (Moses and the prophets), not the resurrection that can convince or persuade us to repent.” 

“Luke points us back to the discipline of biblical literacy in prophetic faith. Disciples are empowered for, but not exonerated from, the work of deconstructing disparity by the Risen Jesus.”

What is so powerful to me about Abraham’s closer (which is Luke’s prophetic storytelling reflecting on Jesus’ life) is how it flies in the face of dominant Christianity. Dominant Christianity, I would argue, with its focus on salvation through Jesus’ death and resurrection as a ticket to heaven has intentionally obscured the message throughout scripture, that our salvation (meaning our ability to be in right relationship) is rooted in our commitment to justice and solidarity with people who are oppressed. 

Obviously a state-sponsored religion would not endorse a theology that judges the wealthy plutocrats and stands with the oppressed. 

In his biblical scholarship Ched pulls from the work of his teacher William Herzog who points out that the use of Abraham in the story would have been both familiar and shocking to the listeners. Abraham was someone used to invoke social order, so his presence in this story as an advocate for the desperately poor would have been shocking to the status quo. 

“This tale… exhorts us to reread the Bible, our history, and our own social geography in order to commit to a discipleship of deconstructing injustice and inequity. For Luke, this is the only way to be rescued from the chasma mega…” 

I imagine some of you can visualize an image from your Sunday school days of two cliffs on either side of a great chasm. Humanity is on one side and God on the other. The cross is then placed across the chasm to represent that Jesus’ death and resurrection make it possible for us to be in right relationship with God. 

Luke’s gospel however makes clear that we can only bridge that great chasm through solidarity with those who have been dispossessed. 

And I think the best way to illustrate this bridging is with the story of Zaccheaus. He is one of the rich men in Luke’s gospel and he makes a different decision than the rich man we’ve just experienced. When Jesus shows up to invite himself over to Zaccheaus’ house, this rich man immediately repents. He heeds the prophet before him and says, “I give half of my possessions to the poor. And if I have cheated anyone, I repay them four times as much.” 

To this Jesus responds, “Today salvation has come to this household (because he too is a son of Abraham)!” If we’ve been taught that salvation only comes through Jesus’ death and resurrection this is a confusing statement by Jesus given that he hasn’t died yet. But if we understand salvation as the process of deconstructing injustice and inequity, it makes all the sense in the world. Zaccheaus was heeding the call of Moses and the prophets to be a blessing to all the families of the earth. 

In this political moment it is more important than ever to embody this theology of solidarity and denounce hateful ideologies that masquerade as Christianity. I see us doing this in many ways:

• As we stand with Apache Stronghold to protect Oak Flat.
• As we support each other emotionally and materially in difficult times.
• As we declare that God’s Love Knows No Borders and call for a ceasefire in Gaza through public actions, letters and phone calls.
• As we get organized around war tax resistance and invite other Menonnites to consider public action along these lines. 
• As we stand with homeless families advocating for San Francisco to truly be a sanctuary city.

I’m excited that next Sunday we’ll get to hear from folks in our congregation along these lines – about how they are resisting injustice and protecting life. 

These are all ways we are practicing the original instruction in our scriptures to be a blessing to all the families of the earth. May the Spirit continue to inspire and challenge us to deeper solidarity. May this solidarity transform us personally and collectively. And may we always remember we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses cheering us on.