Sermon for the First Sunday after Trinity
“There was a certain beggar named Lazarus”
Lazarus ‘R Us. We are Lazarus. There are two people named Lazarus in the Gospels. The one is the blessed subject of a parable told by Jesus in Luke’s Gospel, the story we heard today. The other is the blessed object of a miracle done by Jesus in John’s Gospel. There is much that is similar about them.
But there is this difference. The one lays on the ground – a beggar in the dirt, unnoticed, at the gate of the rich man – and then dies. The other dies and then is buried in the ground – hidden in the grave for four days. But, then, both are raised up – the one into the bosom of Abraham, the other into the company of his family and friends, among whom is Jesus himself.
What does it all come down to? Simply this. The love of God compels us to love one another where we are – on the ground and even out of the ground, as it were. This is not a may-be but a must-be for our salvation and more generally for the health of our communities and cultures. We are commanded and compelled to love out of the vision of love which has been shown to us. Such was Trinity Sunday when we beheld the strong and defining love of God. “Behold a door was opened in heaven.” “Batter my heart three-personed God,” as John Donne puts it, for only that strong love can move us to God and to him in one another.
When we ignore the stranger in our midst or neglect the beggar at our door, then we deny the God who became poor for our sakes, who came into our midst, and who knocks at the door of our hearts. When we are consumed by envy at the good fortune of others, when we are filled with hatred and wrath for the hurts and injuries inflicted upon us, whether real or imagined, when we are complacent and indifferent to the sufferings of others, then we place ourselves very far from God and do great harm to others as well as to ourselves.
To put it in terms of the parable, there is a great gulf fixed between us and God when we ignore the poor man at our gate, the neighbour close at hand, and our loved ones all around. Then we place ourselves in torment, the torment of our self-willed distance from God. Then we are pretty far gone – like Lazarus in the ground four days, “behold, he stinketh”, says Martha, and so do we in the sins of our indifference and selfishness. But, “Lazarus, come out”, Jesus says.
