When the Tables Get Reversed in Hell

In the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31), Jesus continues his emphasis on this-worldly hospitality’s intimate connection with next-worldly rewards or retribution. I will probably write more on my thoughts on this in the next few days, but as a preliminary discussion, there was something really interesting I observed in the text that I’d like your thoughts on.

The Rich Man and Lazarus have died and gone into the afterlife – Hades, the realm of the dead. But in Hades there seems to be a compartment where the righteous are collected to Abraham’s side, living in comfort. But the wicked are away from Abraham’s side (across a great chasm) in a place of torment.

On the far side of the chasm, the Rich Man looks up and sees Abraham and Lazarus with him. In his torment, he commands (!) Abraham, “Father Abraham, be merciful to me and send Lazarus to get me some water.”

The command to have Abraham “send” Lazarus was initially just interesting to me. I could have read implications into it, but didn’t…at first.

But then I noticed it again in vs. 27, “Send* Lazarus to my father’s house, for I have five brothers.”

That twice the Rich Man tries to get Abraham to “send” Lazarus peeked my interest.

It seems to me, not only is the Rich Man incredibly presumptuous, even in eternal torment, to assume he can command Abraham to do anything. But even more presumptuous, he still assumes Lazarus is beneath him. He is treating Lazarus like a servant, a slave, a messenger boy, someone to do his bidding…someone who only exists for my needs.

Even Abraham he treats as a lesser person. Though he calls him ‘Father,’ he assumes he can command Abraham to obey his imperatives. He even argues with Abraham and tells Abraham that he knows better about what his brothers will or won’t listen to, when it comes to revelation to his five brothers.

Even in his torment, this guy still clings to his supposed superior identity and superior status. And even Hades doesn’t change his attitude. Though he thinks Lazarus is a slave, it turns out he is a slave to himself.

Be careful how you treat people – especially people “beneath” you, people everyone else considers expendable, people everyone else overlooks, people everyone else wants to distance themselves from. The tables may very well be reversed someday.

So you tell me: Tell me about a person you know, who, despite their high status, has done a good job at reaching out toward those people who are “beneath” them? I’d love to have a few models for this. 

*This second time, the Greek verb is a subjunctive, not an imperative, but that’s a little aside from my point here.

A Radical Review: The Really Good Part 1.

Criticizing the American Dream: 

Throughout this book there were a number of places I wanted to pump my fist in the air in appreciation for Platt’s observations and thoughts. As the subtitle of the book suggests, Platt spends much of his time criticizing American Evangelicalism’s infatuation with the American Dream. For being a people who are supposedly about bringing the “good news” (Evangel) to the world, we seem to spend an awful lot of time, energy, and money pampering ourselves and living the life America has called us to instead of the one Jesus has called us to. And Platt make no bones about it – the two callings are completely antithetical to each other. The longer we refuse to see this, the longer we try to worship both God and Mammon. Platt is not the first to say these things. And I hope he is not the last. But, nonetheless, these are words we need to hear and I am grateful for his boldness. I especially liked this line,

“The lesson I learned is that the war against materialism in our hearts is exactly that: a war. It is a constant battle to resist the temptations to have more luxuries, to acquire more stuff, and to live more comfortably. It requires strong and steady resolve to live out the gospel in the middle of an American dream that identifies success as moving up the ladder, getting the bigger house, purchasing the nice car, buying the better clothes, eating finer food, and acquiring more things.”  (136)

A Call to Care for the Poor:

As part of his rejection of the American Dream, Platt calls the church to care for the poor, provide a voice for the voiceless, bring the marginalized into genuine community, and and be present for the neglected persons of our society. He calls churches to stop turning a blind eye to problems related to poverty, not only in this country, but also in other nations. And he recounts numerous stories of people he knows who’ve made radical life changes in order to be the hands and feet of Jesus to the forgotten people of the world.

In a Christian world where helping the poor is often characterized as a a “leftist agenda,” I’m grateful for Platt’s voice here. Especially because I bet he’s probably a pretty politically conservative person (Aren’t all Southern Baptists?).

With that said, my main concern is that while I appreciate Platt’s focus on social justice, I don’t think he quite goes far enough in describing what that actually looks like long-term. That is, it is not enough just to feed homeless people and “get them saved;” we need to actually challenge the systems that create homelessness to begin with. And this is both an individual and a societal problem.

My speculation at this point is that Platt doesn’t venture into these details because to do so would mean that he would have to take certain political stances. I appreciate his not wanting to get distracted by political arguments, but in the end, the problem is not that some people care about the poor and others don’t (though, that’s the case sometimes); the problem is that we simply don’t agree on what’s the best way to care for the poor and help them.

For Platt’s thoughts to have any lasting impact, I think, he needed to go into more depth about what a uniquely Christian vision for caring for the poor looks like on a systemic level – even to the point of challenging all existing paradigms. That would, indeed, be Radical. Without such a proposal, Platt’s call for social justice has no serious bite. I’m glad he’s bringing these things to our intention; it’s a good start for us. But it looks like someone else is going to have to do the radical work of figuring out what it looks like to deal with the systemic political problems.

QoD: The Church Against the Powerless

So, I want to start a new thread of posts based on interesting quotes I come across in my daily book readings. I figured this would be an easy way to introduce some of you to some really good writers that you might not otherwise read or at least prompt interaction with those whom you have read. Plus, putting my own thoughts in context of a larger community makes me look less crazy sometimes.

For your part, I’d like you to reflect on and interact with the quote(s). Sometimes I will put things up that I don’t agree with but still find intriguing. This means the views expressed in any given quote may or may not reflect my particular opinion.

Here’s our first one…

“Too often the price exacted by society for security and respectability is that the Christian movement in its formal expression must be on th side of the strong against the weak. This is a matter of tremendous significance , for it reveals to what extent a religion that was born of a people acquainted with persecution and suffering has become the cornerstone of a civilization and of nations whose very position in modern life too often has been secured by a ruthless use of power applied to…defenseless peoples.”

Howard Thurman, “Jesus and the Disinherited.” (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1949), 11-12.

Something I Saw the Other Day…Collapsed Elderly Woman

In honor of JR’s new page, I will start a continuing and random series on everyday things I observe and how God speaks to me through them. Please be aware that you are entering the dark world of my mind and there is no turning back.

So the other day I was walking through the automatic doors at the local grocery store….you know, through that entrance room before you get into the actual store…the room where they keep the shopping carts.

Anyway, I’m walking through that room, minding my own business, thinking deep theological thoughts – seriously, that’s what I do when I go shopping, I think about theology.

In the corner of my eye and down at my feet, I saw an elderly woman lying on the floor.

So what did I do?…

…I kept walking, thinking about theology, off in my own little world.

Yep, I’m that guy.

All of the sudden I heard someone else say, “Ma’am, are you alright.” Just then it clicked with me, “Holy crap, there’s an elderly woman lying on the floor, flailing around trying to get up.”

So I bent down and wrapped my arms around her waist and helped her up.

She said, “Oh, honey, I’m so embarrassed. I just tried to sit down on this stool and misjudged it.”

I replied, “No, ma’am, I’m embarrassed. I saw you lying on the floor and I was just going to keep on walking.”

Now, before you start thinking I’m an a-hole, you need to remember that I really was thinking about theology. My mind was so involved in some deep, theological question that as I walked passed her, her lying on the floor just seemed like a normal, everyday event to me. It actually took someone else pointing out her suffering before I responded and came to my senses.

You also have to keep in mind that this kind of absentmindedness is par for the course with me. My wife often gets frustrated with me when we’re driving somewhere b/c I get some theological thought on my mind and I miss our turn – even the turn to our own house.

So, after I helped the woman up, my mind went back to theological things. Only this time the thoughts went to wondering how often I miss simple acts of kindness and justice, not merely b/c I’m not looking for it, but b/c I’m too wrapped up in some philo-theological argument with myself. The heart of God seems to be for the concrete lifting up of elderly women, not in the abstract argumentation within my own mind.

Everything is Sacred: A Pneumatology of the Mundane

Is Sunday more holy than Thursday? Are the Eucharistic elements more sanctified than my Wonder bread and Welch’s grape juice? Is a church sanctuary more holy than the public park?

For modern Christians the answers are generally, Yes, each of the former is more holy or sanctified than the latter.

But I want to argue in this post that the Spirit of God is active in all things – even those mundane or common objects, times, or places. In other words, Sacred Space need not be limited to cathedrals or communion tables. Sacred Time need not be restricted to Sundays or Lent. And Sacred Objects need not be restricted to Bibles, crosses or pulpits.

Rather, encountering the Spirit of God occurs with mundane things, places, and times:

 Simple kitchen tables where we meet God each morning for our devotions
 That old, tattered watch our grandfather gave us with the Bible inscription on the back, continually challenging us to faithfulness
 Thursday night dinners with old friends who challenge you to love God more.

The sacred is found in the mundane. As one scholar put it, we can and do encounter God in “quite unreligious, commonplace experiences.”

This does not mean nothing is sacred for the Christian. Rather, it means all times, places, and objects are sacred:

 Paul tells us all days are to be lived for the Lord, not just the Sabbath.
 All meat comes from God, even if it’s sacrificed to idols.
 The temple of the Holy Spirit is not built by human hands, but is the community, ekklesia, of God.
 Whatever you do with your hands do with all your might – not with eye service and pleasers of people, but unto God!
 Whether you eat or drink (mundane tasks, are they not?), do it all to the glory of the Lord.

However highly hallowed or wholly humdrum, everything must be considered consecrated.

And if everything is sacred then nothing is merely mundane. No person, no task, no object, no place and no time can be considered God-forsaken:

 As believers in a crucified savior, every person is considered sacred to God and therefore to us.
 As kingdom workers, even term papers and taxes become sacred.
 As resident aliens, each place we go the kingdom of God accompanies us.
 As agents of redemption, we redeem the time and demonstrate God’s sovereignty over all ages.

When Christians understand that nothing is mundane we are also able to see the all pervasive presence of the Spirit in all created things, great and small.

The Spirit’s presence in Genesis 1:2 suggests that the Spirit has always been involved with the creation. And now through Jesus’ death the Spirit reveals that all creation falls under Christ’s redemptive purposes (Col. 1).

In recognizing this we have the ability, indeed privileged, to observe the Spirit’s workings in the mundane tasks, we are able to be present – that is, not continually distracted by what/who is coming up next or later. We can focus on our task at hand precisely because we know that the Spirit is at work in this task, no matter how trivial. We work with the Spirit to call all things to the redemptive purposes of God.

Let me illustrate this: When I do the dishes for me wife, no matter how mundane that seems to me, I am enacting loving service within our home. I not only demonstrate my love for her as a husband, but I actually demonstrate the love of Christ for her. This demonstration of love is prompted by the Spirit. The Spirit compels me to creative means of loving my wife. But that creativity need not be only and always big-feats of romance (as important as that may be). Rather, my wife feels most loved when I simply clean the bathroom or take out the trash. Everything is sacred in our marriage – even pee stains around the toilet! (or, rather, the absence thereof) If I ignore the mundane, my wife will feel unloved.

So it is with the Spirit. The Spirit does not always and only need our great missionary allegiance. The Spirit wants us to be faithful in all our little tasks. Our excellence and present-ness in all things mundane turn those things, places, and people into sacraments – means by which we encounter the living God through physical realities. It is here that something “as ordinary as a sleeping child, as simple and objective as a flower, suddenly commands attention.” And it does so because the presence of the Spirit.

Everything is sacred, brothers and sisters. Everything.

Could it be that everything is sacred?
And all this time
Everything I’ve dreamed of
Has been right before my eyes.

-Andrew Osenga “Sacred”