I rue the fact that Jesus uttered this parable. I wish he had never ventured into this God territory that is so very easily overtaken by abusive preachers. Oh how I wish that the Amos lesson was something easier to preach. In the words of my new favorite wireless commercial, "U G H."
It seems to me that two traps have been set in this parable, and, at any given time over the past 2000 years or so both have been preached to the determent of the gospel, the Church, and yes, even God. The first, and the one that went out of fashion first was its use to point out to the poor that they should delight in their situation because they shall be rewarded by sitting at the right hand of Abraham in heaven. This was used especially well in impoverished areas of Central and South America to keep the outcast in their place and allow the church and government to stay in bed while raking in the dough. The reaction to this misuse in that place resulted in what we now call liberation theology. The second, and one that can be seen as a reaction to the first, is its use in preaching a strict social gospel. Now, I assure you that I am using this term very loosely and without academic study behind it. What I mean by a strict social gospel is that strain of liberal preaching that affords salvation to those who do good works for the poor; rather than having good works be an outpouring of the Spirit by those who have been saved exclusively by Christ Jesus (many will squabble with me here, and please do, but I'm bad with theological schools of thought, so I call them as I see them). The problem here is that it has taken the power of salvation out of God's hands and put it in human hands, and the Bible is full of stories about how this can't possibly work. The reaction to this misuse is equally scary and it comes in the form of fundamentalist evangelicals who, without thought, dismiss anything that might be "liberal" and see no need toward good works for the poor because Jesus might be coming back tonight. (Again, I am using a very, very broad brush).
All four of these schools of thought; the misreading and its reaction, can be identified as an extreme position; hence the title of today's post, "be wary of extremes." It is my growing belief that to understand these passages that lend themselves so easily to extreme interpretation one must sit in space in between; in the paradoxes, or as the case is in this gospel lesson, "in the great chasm fixed between."
And so that is where I sit today, in an oddly familiar place in that great chasm. I'm not really sure how I'll preach this lesson on Sunday yet. I'm not really sure how these extremes might inform each other and result in a place of rest. All I know for sure is that this great chasm is the only safe space for me in this passage, so I'll wait here til things clear up.
1 comment:
A great reflection on the Sunday eucharistic lectionary. I think you have the core of what Jesus is saying. With every parable there is a broad and almost obvious meaning. At the same moment, Jesus is lining the argument with deeper and more difficult teachings. The best parables make us think and force us to try to apply things to our life.
What strikes me is the fact that at the beginning of the parable, before interpretations or convoluted pronouncements filled with political aspirations, we find an image of startling proximity "at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus". The chasm comes after calloused indifference and after judgement while in the midst of interpretations and begging. The chasm comes when we ignore the nearness of it all . . . Good stuff man, great stuff!
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