26 September 2010

Amos 6:1a, 4-7
Psalm 146
1 Timothy 6:6-19
Luke 16:15-17, 19-31

Today, this 26^th day of September, according UNESCO’s own admittedly conservative estimates, twenty-two thousand children will die due to the effects of poverty. And the overwhelming majority of them “die quietly in some of the poorest villages on earth, far removed from the scrutiny and the conscience of the world. Being meek and weak in life makes these dying multitudes even more invisible in death.” Water problems, infectious diseases, malnutrition, lack of education, and absence of even the most rudimentary health care are only a few of the factors behind these grim statistics. But the problem isn’t that there is any world-wide shortage of resources or food. The problem is the inequitable distribution of the world’s goods and unjust patterns of consumption. More than enough food is produced each year to feed the world’s population quite well – yet that food is consumed mainly by us in North America and the people of Europe. We in the world of the “haves” account for about 10% of the world’s population, while our private consumption is 60% of resources – that of course means only 40% of those resources must provide for the other 90% of the world’s people. And 95% of the world’s people live on the purchasing power equivalent of less than $10.00 per day – and breaking that down a bit, 50% of the world’s people live on less than $2.50 per day, while nearly 20% of God’s children live on less than a dollar a day. And most of these are in sub-Saharan Africa and in Asia, living in nations buffeted for centuries by colonialism and outside forces.

And the prophet Amos in our first reading screams at those who are at ease and feel secure while poverty exists anywhere: the well-to-do shall now be the first to go into exile and your revelry shall pass away. And Jesus says, “There was a rich person,” – let’s substitute nation for rich person here, shall we? And for Lazarus – the world’s poor. “There was a rich nation finely dressed and feasting sumptuously every day. And thrown at its gate, the world’s poor.” And of course, the overwhelming majority of the world’s poor does not have white skin (Do you think that a coincidence?) and is separated from us in the rich nations by a vast chasm – one getting more vast by the day. And we in a nation that some like to tout as Christian – we seem not to have listened either to Moses or the prophets. And we’ve definitely not been convinced by the One who has risen from the dead.

Oh yes, of course, we are rather good at charity, but as Dr. David Hilfiker, himself founder of two inner-city Washington, D.C., faith-based programs for homeless men notes – “we give charity for ourselves.” It makes us feel spiritually healthy – and it’s something we who are at the top can control. Indeed, charity makes us look good, like we care – and we get to feel good to boot. But make no mistake: charity, though necessary, is, we must be aware, about us – and it does not bring about change. Doubtless, the Pharisees, to whom Jesus addresses the parable we just heard, are good at charity – Jesus says that these lay, religious leaders are great at justifying themselves in the presence of others – great at giving to beggars – perhaps even generous. But the overwhelming demand of scriptures is not for charity, but for justice – for nothing short of an equal distribution of the world’s resources. To this end, scripture commands – it’s not a nice little suggestion – scripture commands the observance of Jubilee – when all debts are cancelled every seven years and all property is radically redistributed every forty-nine years. But of course in American religion, we’d rather talk about sexual orthodoxy – it’s far easier to mind somebody else’s business than look to one’s own over-consuming, materialistic life-style – and besides, that bit about jubilee years – that’s not literal, right? – even though the creation poems and things about women not preaching or teaching in the church are.

But this is depressing and it isn’t why we come to church is it? We come to be uplifted, and we want to go home feeling better about ourselves. We want our needs and our concerns addressed and met, and our self-selected spirituality and our self-absorbed efforts at renewal affirmed. And we would at least like to be acknowledged and thanked for all the good works we do. And of course it should all fit into an hour – thank heavens we don’t live in one of those awful African countries where the sermon alone lasts over an hour. And why don’t we ever get to sing my favorite hymn? You know, we’d be more successful if only we could buy our own parking lot and run this place like a business – conveniently forgetting that the goal of business is to turn a profit, preferably the largest profit possible while governed only by the invisible hand of the free market. (That invisible hand bit – does that make business a religion?)

And of course there would be more people in church if we didn’t have to hear that we are all in bondage to economic, social, and political systems that implicate us as U.S. citizens in a myriad of the world’s most gross injustices – that we are in bondage to sin and can in no way free ourselves from being implicated in the suffering of the world’s poor – no matter how good our charity looks. And we don’t want to contemplate – as today’s readings force us to contemplate – that under God’s Law, our place is precisely in Hades, the land of the forever dead, with the rich person whose dogs had more compassion for Lazarus than he did. Hades is precisely for us, the successful, the citizens of the empire, the poorest of us more rich in comparison to the rest of the world than we can imagine; we don’t want to hear a reading that tells us the dominion of heaven is for the fifteen-hundred children who will die during the hour-and-a-half of this liturgy as a result of poverty. As Jesus says so picturesquely, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than it is for a person with money to enter into the dominion of heaven. Who then can be saved? “With humans,” says Jesus – “it’s impossible . . . . but for God, all thing are possible.”

But how? Well, for starters – there’s baptism. And it’s gonna happen here again today – two infants will be baptized. Baptism is God’s declaration and promise – made with water and sealed with the sign of the cross. God’s declaration that in fact the successful self is dead. Baptism is our death by drowning, by the sword of the Law, by the fiery Spirit – a death begun at the font, and followed with daily dying, until that death is completed along with our last breath on this planet. And too in baptism – God promises – a resurrection from deadness – a resurrection begun at the font and continuing with every breath until that resurrection too becomes fully realized as the beating of our hearts is stilled. Daily we die to our self-justifying selves, our self-congratulatory charity, and the trust we place in the coin-of-the-realm and the realm itself and daily we rise – newly and profoundly aware that, as St. Paul tells Timothy, “we brought nothing into the world, and can take nothing out of it; but if we have food and clothing, we will be content with these.” Daily we rise to the eternal life that we have indeed been promised and given – and living in the life of the ages, we do pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, and gentleness, that is to say, justice.

And when the day comes – perhaps while some of us are still on this earth – when this empire that has made us wealthy crumbles and falls – we will rise yet once more – trusting that God is indeed sovereign over our sorry human history. When this empire crumbles, with the poor now teaching us how to live, we will fear not. For it is when darkness falls that the light shines most brightly. It is when the end draws near that God draws most lovingly close. And it is in dying that we will rise to the life of the ages – for it is only the dead who can be raised.

Children of God: you are already dead and you are already risen. Remember your Holy Baptism. And so that you know forgiveness, and that you be strengthened in resurrected life, come, receive the true Body and Blood of Christ, given and shed for you.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son +, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.