September 26, 2004; The 17th Sunday after Pentecost Readings: Amos 6:1-7; 1 Timothy 6:11-19; Luke 16:19-31; Psalm 146:4-9.   The Rev. Dr. Hilary B. Smith Look Beyond Your Gate Sometimes we do not see what is right in front of us. We all have our favorite ways of looking at life. Certain aspects of our life are also constructed for us—our system of state welfare for example. Our particular concerns and ways of functioning can limit our vision. Jesus helps us to see beyond our comfort zone. Jesus helps us to see with love and compassion, even when our initial reaction may be fear and caution. In response to those who loved money, Jesus reminded them about the importance of loving people. Jesus told them about a rich man who did not care for the poor man Lazarus. The result of the rich man’s lack of concern resulted in Lazarus’ death. The impact on Lazarus was obvious. Less obvious at the time, was the harm done to rich man because of his inaction. It was obvious that Lazarus suffered because of a lack of relationship to the rich man, but the rich man also suffered by not connecting with Lazarus. When we fail to recognize our dependence on each other, we hurt ourselves—everyone loses. The prophets spoke of this truth—that all people are related to each other and to God. Just as God seeks relationship with you and me, God calls us to care for each other, to think of each other, and to have compassion for each other. The rich man had no compassion for Lazarus. The rich man did not see what was right in front of him. He tried to keep certain things out of his life. The rich man had a gate to protect him and keep people out. Lazarus came to his gate and sought food. The scraps would do, but even that was not given. The rich man did not acknowledge his relationship with Lazarus—his is duty, his shared humanity with another child of God. The rich man was the first to set a barrier between Lazarus and himself. That purpose of the was to gate keep Lazarus away and it worked—too well, as the rich man would find. What is our gate; your gate and my gate? If we were to look beyond our gate—beyond our comfort zone—who would we see? What would we do? Before I went to seminary, I studied the history of England, specifically town life during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. In those years, everyone knew everyone else in the town—certainly in their parish. Like or not, people had to depend on each other and the parish church was the organization that gave aid to the needy. Everyone contributed to the church and the church helped the widows, orphans and the sick. Now, people were the same back they as they are now. They wanted to save money so they did not let people settle the parish easily. Single pregnant women on the move were especially discouraged from staying. That would be two mouths to feed instead of one. But once a person was there, that person became part of the community, and the community helped when needed. In one some ways, the world is a much smaller place now. We know of the suffering of people thousands of miles away—countries and cultures beyond our borders. In other ways, we have become distant from those closest to us. We try to do the right thing. We in this parish do give money to CCAP, and some of our members work through that organization to help the poor. But we do not know all those in need within a two-mile radius of our church. That’s just not the way society is set up to function in our time. The system changed in England in the 1800s when caring for the poor became the responsibility of the national government and not the local parish community. There were good reasons for this. A national system can maintain a standard for the whole country. Interesting, in England with nationalization came the 1834 poor law amendment, which basically made it a crime to be poor. What had always been viewed as a community issue became the fault of the individual. The harsh results of the new system could be seen most clearly in the way the elderly poor were treated. The elderly who had worked hard all their lives often needed help in their last years. Husbands and wives were separated and put in poor houses, which were basically jails where they were forced to work. The poor came to be beyond the gate of "respectable" society and were treated as a problem rather than as people. This is just one example from history that shows the challenge we face. When gates are put up, metaphorically or literally, and people become separated, we can lose sight of our common humanity. Then everyone loses. Jesus’ story was shocking to the rich because their wealth was thought to be a sign of God’s favor. Wealth can provide barriers to reality. When the rich man died, however, he learned just what separation for Lazarus meant. Now, he was a slow learner. First asking for Lazarus to be sent to him as if Lazarus was still subject to his desires. To which, Abraham says, "between you and us a great chasm has been fixed." This chasm was formed by the rich man. Then he asks if Lazarus could go to his brothers and warn them. To which, Abraham says, "They have Moses and the prophets listen to them." They already have the law and the prophets to guide them. The rich man pleads, "No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent." Abraham replies, "If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead." The brothers had everything that they needed to lead a righteous life, and yet they did not. Even if some one should rise from the dead, they would not be convinced. What does it take to convince people to care for each other? What does it take to help us see beyond the gates that we construct? I know that there is only one hope for me, and that is Jesus Christ himself. As we meet Jesus and walk with him, he opens the gates and leads us through to the freedom that is known in loving each other. The travelers on the road to Emmaus met Jesus and he opened the scriptures to them. Their hearts burned with in them and they understood. Jesus meets us on our journey and opens our hearts and our minds. Amen.