More vs. Love
Luke 16:19 "There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. 20 At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores 21 and longing to eat what fell from the rich man's table. Even the dogs came and licked his sores. 22 "The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham's side. The rich man also died and was buried. 23 In hell, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. 24 So he called to him, 'Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.' 25 "But Abraham replied, 'Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. 26 And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.' 27 "He answered, 'Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my father's house, 28 for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.' 29 "Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.' 30 "'No, father Abraham,' he said, 'but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.' 31 "He said to him, 'If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.'"
Sadly, there is a long list of four-letter words that fill our TV screens, movies and culture. They are filthy, vile, offensive words. They flow off the tongue to destroy reputations and tear down lives.
But there is another four-letter word that is just as powerful, just as permeating, just as damning. You may want to cover your ears for this. It is the word “more.” The problem with our world, our nation and our own lives as Christians can be summed up with this single word “more.” “More” has become the unofficial national motto. We want more of everything. More life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. More hope and more change. More fun, more money, more excitement, more health. John D. Rockeller, the first U.S. billionaire, when once asked, “How much money is enough?” answered, “One more dollar.”
More is what Americans are used to, what we perceive as normal. Here in the land of nuptial agreements and IRAs, so we can protect what is ours. More is the way we think about success. And more is what America and the rest of the world has been running out of lately.
Jesus tells the intriguing story about a rich man whom we’ll call Dives (pronounced “Dive-ees”) because it’s Latin for “rich man,” as he has been called for centuries. Dives would have fit very well into our society. Trade in the purple robes for business suits, the fine linen for the HDTV and leather sofa, and living in luxury for a middle class salary and a home with 3 bedrooms, 2 ½ baths, a dog, a cat, 2.5 kids and you have the American dream.
Dives wasn’t necessarily a bad man. He was a regular American citizen. Perfectly satisfied feeding his face to being overweight, spending his money on himself and indulging his every affordable fantasy. While at the same time being apathetic to the poor and neglecting the hurting all around him – even in front of his own home.
If you can see Dives living in our society, then surely you can see yourself in Dives. How often don’t we fill up our lives with more? More of the things that come and go so easily and so quickly. People who invested in Enron had great wealth one day and nothing the next. Employees who had steady jobs so they could afford standing in line at Starbucks one day are now standing in the unemployment line the next. Folks with big, beautiful houses are having their mortgages foreclosed on and going from spacious one day to shelter the next.
You may not think that you have a lot, but in reality you have more than 90% of the world. But whether you have a Mercedes or a shopping cart, a condo or a box to sleep in, you cling to those possessions. Instead of possessing them, they possess you. And the more you have, the more you have to cling to. The more you have, the more unsatisfied you are that others have still more. The more you have, the more tempted you are to do anything to keep it, and to believe, like Dives, that your life is defined and measured by the things of this world.
A long time ago, there was an Emperor who told his horseman that if he could ride on his horse and cover as much land area as he liked, then the Emperor would give him the area of land he had covered. What do you think the horseman did? What would you do? He quickly jumped onto his horse and rode as fast as possible to cover as much area as possible. He kept on riding and riding, whipping his horse to go faster and farther. When the horseman was hungry or tired, he did not stop because he wanted to cover as much area as possible.
He quickly came to a point when he had covered a substantial area. He would be extremely wealthy. The only problem was that he was exhausted, drained … and dying. Then he asked himself, “Why did I push myself so hard to cover so much land? Now I’m dying and I only need a very small area to bury myself.”
This story is similar to what we do in our journey through the land area of life. The prince of this world has whispered into our ears that all this can be ours. So we push ourselves hard every day, trying to make more money, attempting to collect possessions and memories from our past, driving ourselves to worry about the future. We end up neglecting our health, time with our families, the lost souls who are perishing without the gospel, the sick, hurting, and lonely, the dying who are lying right outside our doors. One day when we look back, we will realize that we don’t really need that much, but then we cannot turn back for what we missed.
And it is what we miss eternally that will plague us for an eternity. Dives realized that though he may have had an elaborate funeral, what good did it to him in hell. For there he realized that though he had everything in the world, he had only eternal torments in the fires of hell to show for it. The rich man was painfully aware that though he had chased after more and more earthly blessings, he had forsaken all eternal blessings. This only added to his suffering.
Here is another four-letter word. It is a confounding, confusing word to the world. But it is sweet music in the ears of the Christian. It is the word “love.” The apostle Paul reminds us that we can gain everything, but if we do not have love, we gain nothing. (1 Corinthians 13:3) We need love, true love, God’s love.
For it is God’s love that saved Lazarus and caused the angels to carry him to Abraham’s side in heaven. It is God’s love that is more powerful than mankind’s quest for more. It is God’s love the pushes aside the riches of the world so that we can cherish the riches of the Means of Grace. God made and kept Lazarus as a child of God through Moses and the Prophets – His holy, inspired Word. God makes and keeps us as children of God through the splash of water at the font, the spoken word of absolution from the pastor, the humble bread and wine at the altar. These things may look Lazarus-like – poor and lowly – but as the poor and beggarly appearance of Lazarus hid a son of God, so too in the Means of Grace is hidden the Son of God. His forgiveness, life and salvation given here to transform sinners into sons, the despised into daughters and beggars into kings.
It is love that caused the King of heaven and earth to become a beggar, turn the Son to a sinner, and change the divinity into the despised. For Jesus was the rich man who did not rejoice in His riches, but came down from heaven, making Himself nothing, becoming a beggar with us beggars. He came down and took on human flesh to redeem sinful flesh. He was despised and rejected, even enduring death on a cross. That by taking our place, we might be given His place in the palace.
Jesus thirsted so that we might never thirst, but drink deeply of His forgiveness. He hungered, so we might never hunger, but be fed by His Bread of Life. He did not have a place to lay His head, so that even though we do not deserve even a mat outside the gates of glory, we are ushered into the mansion by an army of angels. He had nothing to attract us to Him, so that He could cover up our beggarly rags with His white robes of righteousness. He died, so that we might not die eternally, but instead die now in waters of Baptism. And there also rise with Him to a new life. A new life not like the old life. A new life as a child of God. A new life not cursing others with four-letter words of “more,” but blessing the lives of others with the four-letter word we learned straight from God’s mouth – “love.”
For love is the language of God and His children. Long before the church had pulpits and classrooms, she had kitchens and dinner tables. “Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts.” (Acts 2:46) “Day after day, in the temple courts and from house to house, they never stopped teaching and proclaiming the good news that Jesus is the Christ.” (Acts 5:42) The primary gathering place of the church was the home. Consider the genius of God’s plan. The first generation of Christians was a tinderbox of contrasting cultures and backgrounds. At least 15 different nationalities heard Peter’s sermon on Pentecost. Jews stood next to Gentiles. Men worshiped with women. Slaves and masters sought after Christ. How could people of such varied backgrounds and cultures get along with each other? One word – love. They loved because Christ first loved them. They opened their hearts and homes to each other.
What about today? Can Hispanics, African-Americans and Anglos live in peace? Can Democrats find common ground with Republicans? Can the poor and sick live in harmony with the wealthy and well-to-do? Yes – love. Love binds us all together. We love because Christ first loved us. We are to follow Christ and open our hearts and homes to others.
The easiest thing in the world for the rich man to do would have been to open his door and let Lazarus come in to dine at his table. Yet it was also the hardest thing to do. Because he lacked love.
But you have this love. Find a Lazarus and open your heart, open your life to him or her, open your home. “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” (Matthew 25:40) As you welcome Lazarus into your life, you are welcoming God Himself.
So chase away the dogs. Invite people into your home for a meal. Go to serve a meal to them. Bind up their emotional and physical wounds at the hospital. Give up your toys. Let go of your time. Free yourself up so you can serve others.
Rather than thinking about what you can get out of life, consider what you can give others throughout your life – out of love. You have been blessings in abundance by God so that you can be a blessing to others. When you show love in tangible ways to the “least of these” you are ministering directly to Jesus. As you open your heart and hand to others, they are receiving a taste of God’s love and bounty.
There was a beautiful lake that lost its zesty freshness. The water formerly had been clear. It was alluring to animals and people alike. But it became covered with a green scum. The farm animals became ill from drinking the water. Finally someone came by the lake who understood the problem. Debris collecting from the hard spring rains had stopped up the dam and prevented the free flow of water, not into the lake, but out of the lake. The spillway was cleared, and soon the lake was fresh and clean again. The flow in and out was necessary to keep the water pure.
Doesn’t the same principle apply to you and me as Christians? We cannot allow the blessings of life to be damming up and collecting in our homes. These blessings of love are not meant just to flow to us, but through us, for the good of others around us, especially those in need.
So we find ourselves in a battle of four-letter words. Mankind’s word vs. God’s word. More vs. love. More stays. Love flows. More is complacent. Love is compassionate. More dams up and damns to hell. Love blesses and grants eternal life. It is more vs. love. But love conquers all. Amen.
Sadly, there is a long list of four-letter words that fill our TV screens, movies and culture. They are filthy, vile, offensive words. They flow off the tongue to destroy reputations and tear down lives.
But there is another four-letter word that is just as powerful, just as permeating, just as damning. You may want to cover your ears for this. It is the word “more.” The problem with our world, our nation and our own lives as Christians can be summed up with this single word “more.” “More” has become the unofficial national motto. We want more of everything. More life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. More hope and more change. More fun, more money, more excitement, more health. John D. Rockeller, the first U.S. billionaire, when once asked, “How much money is enough?” answered, “One more dollar.”
More is what Americans are used to, what we perceive as normal. Here in the land of nuptial agreements and IRAs, so we can protect what is ours. More is the way we think about success. And more is what America and the rest of the world has been running out of lately.
Jesus tells the intriguing story about a rich man whom we’ll call Dives (pronounced “Dive-ees”) because it’s Latin for “rich man,” as he has been called for centuries. Dives would have fit very well into our society. Trade in the purple robes for business suits, the fine linen for the HDTV and leather sofa, and living in luxury for a middle class salary and a home with 3 bedrooms, 2 ½ baths, a dog, a cat, 2.5 kids and you have the American dream.
Dives wasn’t necessarily a bad man. He was a regular American citizen. Perfectly satisfied feeding his face to being overweight, spending his money on himself and indulging his every affordable fantasy. While at the same time being apathetic to the poor and neglecting the hurting all around him – even in front of his own home.
If you can see Dives living in our society, then surely you can see yourself in Dives. How often don’t we fill up our lives with more? More of the things that come and go so easily and so quickly. People who invested in Enron had great wealth one day and nothing the next. Employees who had steady jobs so they could afford standing in line at Starbucks one day are now standing in the unemployment line the next. Folks with big, beautiful houses are having their mortgages foreclosed on and going from spacious one day to shelter the next.
You may not think that you have a lot, but in reality you have more than 90% of the world. But whether you have a Mercedes or a shopping cart, a condo or a box to sleep in, you cling to those possessions. Instead of possessing them, they possess you. And the more you have, the more you have to cling to. The more you have, the more unsatisfied you are that others have still more. The more you have, the more tempted you are to do anything to keep it, and to believe, like Dives, that your life is defined and measured by the things of this world.
A long time ago, there was an Emperor who told his horseman that if he could ride on his horse and cover as much land area as he liked, then the Emperor would give him the area of land he had covered. What do you think the horseman did? What would you do? He quickly jumped onto his horse and rode as fast as possible to cover as much area as possible. He kept on riding and riding, whipping his horse to go faster and farther. When the horseman was hungry or tired, he did not stop because he wanted to cover as much area as possible.
He quickly came to a point when he had covered a substantial area. He would be extremely wealthy. The only problem was that he was exhausted, drained … and dying. Then he asked himself, “Why did I push myself so hard to cover so much land? Now I’m dying and I only need a very small area to bury myself.”
This story is similar to what we do in our journey through the land area of life. The prince of this world has whispered into our ears that all this can be ours. So we push ourselves hard every day, trying to make more money, attempting to collect possessions and memories from our past, driving ourselves to worry about the future. We end up neglecting our health, time with our families, the lost souls who are perishing without the gospel, the sick, hurting, and lonely, the dying who are lying right outside our doors. One day when we look back, we will realize that we don’t really need that much, but then we cannot turn back for what we missed.
And it is what we miss eternally that will plague us for an eternity. Dives realized that though he may have had an elaborate funeral, what good did it to him in hell. For there he realized that though he had everything in the world, he had only eternal torments in the fires of hell to show for it. The rich man was painfully aware that though he had chased after more and more earthly blessings, he had forsaken all eternal blessings. This only added to his suffering.
Here is another four-letter word. It is a confounding, confusing word to the world. But it is sweet music in the ears of the Christian. It is the word “love.” The apostle Paul reminds us that we can gain everything, but if we do not have love, we gain nothing. (1 Corinthians 13:3) We need love, true love, God’s love.
For it is God’s love that saved Lazarus and caused the angels to carry him to Abraham’s side in heaven. It is God’s love that is more powerful than mankind’s quest for more. It is God’s love the pushes aside the riches of the world so that we can cherish the riches of the Means of Grace. God made and kept Lazarus as a child of God through Moses and the Prophets – His holy, inspired Word. God makes and keeps us as children of God through the splash of water at the font, the spoken word of absolution from the pastor, the humble bread and wine at the altar. These things may look Lazarus-like – poor and lowly – but as the poor and beggarly appearance of Lazarus hid a son of God, so too in the Means of Grace is hidden the Son of God. His forgiveness, life and salvation given here to transform sinners into sons, the despised into daughters and beggars into kings.
It is love that caused the King of heaven and earth to become a beggar, turn the Son to a sinner, and change the divinity into the despised. For Jesus was the rich man who did not rejoice in His riches, but came down from heaven, making Himself nothing, becoming a beggar with us beggars. He came down and took on human flesh to redeem sinful flesh. He was despised and rejected, even enduring death on a cross. That by taking our place, we might be given His place in the palace.
Jesus thirsted so that we might never thirst, but drink deeply of His forgiveness. He hungered, so we might never hunger, but be fed by His Bread of Life. He did not have a place to lay His head, so that even though we do not deserve even a mat outside the gates of glory, we are ushered into the mansion by an army of angels. He had nothing to attract us to Him, so that He could cover up our beggarly rags with His white robes of righteousness. He died, so that we might not die eternally, but instead die now in waters of Baptism. And there also rise with Him to a new life. A new life not like the old life. A new life as a child of God. A new life not cursing others with four-letter words of “more,” but blessing the lives of others with the four-letter word we learned straight from God’s mouth – “love.”
For love is the language of God and His children. Long before the church had pulpits and classrooms, she had kitchens and dinner tables. “Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts.” (Acts 2:46) “Day after day, in the temple courts and from house to house, they never stopped teaching and proclaiming the good news that Jesus is the Christ.” (Acts 5:42) The primary gathering place of the church was the home. Consider the genius of God’s plan. The first generation of Christians was a tinderbox of contrasting cultures and backgrounds. At least 15 different nationalities heard Peter’s sermon on Pentecost. Jews stood next to Gentiles. Men worshiped with women. Slaves and masters sought after Christ. How could people of such varied backgrounds and cultures get along with each other? One word – love. They loved because Christ first loved them. They opened their hearts and homes to each other.
What about today? Can Hispanics, African-Americans and Anglos live in peace? Can Democrats find common ground with Republicans? Can the poor and sick live in harmony with the wealthy and well-to-do? Yes – love. Love binds us all together. We love because Christ first loved us. We are to follow Christ and open our hearts and homes to others.
The easiest thing in the world for the rich man to do would have been to open his door and let Lazarus come in to dine at his table. Yet it was also the hardest thing to do. Because he lacked love.
But you have this love. Find a Lazarus and open your heart, open your life to him or her, open your home. “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” (Matthew 25:40) As you welcome Lazarus into your life, you are welcoming God Himself.
So chase away the dogs. Invite people into your home for a meal. Go to serve a meal to them. Bind up their emotional and physical wounds at the hospital. Give up your toys. Let go of your time. Free yourself up so you can serve others.
Rather than thinking about what you can get out of life, consider what you can give others throughout your life – out of love. You have been blessings in abundance by God so that you can be a blessing to others. When you show love in tangible ways to the “least of these” you are ministering directly to Jesus. As you open your heart and hand to others, they are receiving a taste of God’s love and bounty.
There was a beautiful lake that lost its zesty freshness. The water formerly had been clear. It was alluring to animals and people alike. But it became covered with a green scum. The farm animals became ill from drinking the water. Finally someone came by the lake who understood the problem. Debris collecting from the hard spring rains had stopped up the dam and prevented the free flow of water, not into the lake, but out of the lake. The spillway was cleared, and soon the lake was fresh and clean again. The flow in and out was necessary to keep the water pure.
Doesn’t the same principle apply to you and me as Christians? We cannot allow the blessings of life to be damming up and collecting in our homes. These blessings of love are not meant just to flow to us, but through us, for the good of others around us, especially those in need.
So we find ourselves in a battle of four-letter words. Mankind’s word vs. God’s word. More vs. love. More stays. Love flows. More is complacent. Love is compassionate. More dams up and damns to hell. Love blesses and grants eternal life. It is more vs. love. But love conquers all. Amen.
19th Sunday after Pentecost at Epiphany on October 3, 2010
Comments
Post a Comment