The Two Ways: Apathy or Attunement
The Two Ways • Sermon • Submitted
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1 Alas for those who are at ease in Zion, and for those who feel secure on Mount Samaria, the notables of the first of the nations, to whom the house of Israel resorts!
4 Alas for those who lie on beds of ivory, and lounge on their couches, and eat lambs from the flock, and calves from the stall; 5 who sing idle songs to the sound of the harp, and like David improvise on instruments of music; 6 who drink wine from bowls, and anoint themselves with the finest oils, but are not grieved over the ruin of Joseph! 7 Therefore they shall now be the first to go into exile, and the revelry of the loungers shall pass away.
19 “There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. 20 And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, 21 who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. 22 The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. 23 In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side.24 He called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.’ 25 But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. 26 Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.’ 27 He said, ‘Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father’s house— 28 for I have five brothers—that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.’ 29 Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.’ 30 He said, ‘No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.’ 31 He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’ ”
Hades, the place of the dead.
Calling out to Abraham — appealing to lineage and cultural position of a rich Jew
Why would the brothers listen to Moses or the prophets, who are long since dead and apparently being ignored, despite their wisdom and warnings.
This parable follows our reading from last week, where Jesus teaches about using wealth shrewdly, strategically, to build relationships and care to the needs of others. He is pointing directly at the Pharisees in this week’s reading, a current of criticism that he weaves into this section of Luke. Wealth can corrupt and, clearly, the Pharisees have become corrupted by it and its benefits.
While Jesus doesn’t directly state that the rich man in this store is a metaphor for the Pharisees, we can link them in this narrative because Jesus has made an example of them being rich but lacking true wisdom. They are able to carry out their temple and civic duties while ignoring those who hurt right at their doorstep.
I have a number of stories in my ministry career of encountering the hurting on our doorstep. It comes with the territory. People in need should know that they can find refuge in the church and amongst communities of Jesus. If we are not a place of refuge, then what are we?
But it’s complicated, right?
I think of the cold Tuesday nights when I worked at the INN University Ministries and we’d have our 9 pm weekly gathering at the church. Especially as we moved into Winter Quarter each year, we would see an increase of unhoused folks stopping in to the church for warmth, hanging out in the church foyer or going to use the restrooms. When that occurred, the staff would always go into a bit of a heightened state, paying attention to the safety of the students we were entrusted to serve and care for. But also, making sure that this person was not a danger to themselves.
I remember one night, in particular. It was my first year on staff, back in 2006. During the long music set that usually followed the teaching of the evening, two gentlemen came in to the church and sat down together. They clearly were not a part of the college group - they were disheveled, smelly, and avoided conversations with staff as they entered.
Eventually, one got up and left the building. The other I watched go downstairs to the restrooms. We waited, so as to not bother him, but after awhile, I had to go down to check. Sadly, he was passed out in a stall, had gotten sick, and needed help. Me and another staff person helped him up, got him somewhat clean, and helped him out the door, as we were closing down for the night. It was awkward, it was uncomfortable.
I don’t tell this story to sound heroic or super-Christian or whatnot. I tell it because it is a reality: when we serve the people of our world and we truly make ourselves available to all folks, it will get messy, uncomfortable, and sometimes downright weird. We obviously have to be shrewd, wise about our decisions, compassionate in our actions. It’s not easy.
As we hear this passage and reflect upon the idea of the two ways, the way of life and the way of death — can you hear the invitation to the way of life here?
For me, I can easily slip into apathy at these kinds of problems, these kinds of people. Funny thing, I saw that same man from 15 years ago, sitting on the sidewalk of Cornwall Avenue just this week. I still see him around. He doesn’t remember me, but I remember him and what his life taught me. This week, I saw him with a couple of other folks as I walked by them on my way to get my weekly comic books. He and his friends were clearly engaging in some recreational drugs, from the potent smell of it, and they didn’t notice me.
I thought about that moment afterwards and how I could easily feel the sense of apathy swelling up in me: why help anyone, they’re just going to keep living the same life.
We look around us and think of how many lost causes there are, how many hopeless cases, and we throw up our hands in resignation. We can’t fix these problems, so why try? Why not just stay in our comfort and riches?
As we hear from this fantastic story, the gap continues to widen. At this point, the poor man, Lazarus, has died, and so has the rich man. The opportunity to receive the grace of the poor man and a drink of water in a time of desperate need has past. The gap is too wide, the chasm that separates them too much.
Apathy has divided them so much that the one can no longer help the other. Now, this text is obviously metaphor, a dreamlike vision of the torment of Hades, the place of the dead, and the poor man now receiving his blessing in life with Father Abraham. But let’s not quickly dismiss this for an abstraction and instead, ask how this rings out in our world today.
The rich man was apathetic to the needs of poor Lazarus. He had to have seen them…he just didn’t have it in him to act.
So, what’s the other way, what’s the way of life, look like here?
I want to talk about a concept called “attunement.” This word gets used a lot in conversations around psychology. Anyone familiar with the concept? Ok, well it is the way we react and resonate with another person, it’s how we form relationships. We allow (consciously or otherwise) our internal state to shift so that it resonates with another person’s. An example of this is when I crouch down to get on the same level as my son Asher, so I can look him in the eyes and he can feel my presence as he speaks with me. This can also happen with touch — when I hold another person’s hand and we squeeze and connect, responding and regulating to one another. It’s an important quality for counselors to practice, as they seek to tune in to their clients and help them find safe space to share and work.
It is also very important with how we strengthen relational bonds. We need to consistently reengage with each other, tune in to one another. I’ll use the example of me and Ta Wei. We’ve only worked together for a few weeks. And part of what we’re doing as we relate to one another and meet and talk through plans for worship, is that we are attuning to each other. I’m getting a “feel” for who Ta Wei is and he, me. And this will help us respond to each other’s needs more easily as we continue to spend time together. It allows us to support one another and feel connected. The same has happened for me and Tracy, as we’ve worked together for 4 years now. I know her pretty well now and can tell when she has a need or wants to talk about something or has an idea.
What I want us to see is that this passage is about much more than simply how we should attend to the needs of the unhoused on our doorsteps. That example is the obvious one — there are clear problems and clear actions we can take. But we can’t listen to this parable and only think in those terms.
Think again to last week’s text and how Jesus speaks about investing in rewards that are gained through using money and possessions wisely. Those people who you work with, they will be longtime connections that benefit our prospects long down the road, even with eternal results.
Now, we think of the rich man and Lazarus, or the rich people Amos addresses in his prophetic words. The call is to get into relationships, to get close to others.
And so, I hope we see, that we have the two ways before us.
It is very easy for us to become apathetic, especially about wicked problems and difficult people. It is so easy to protect what is ours and turn away from the pain of the other.
But the way of life comes through attunement, from turning towards the ones in need and tuning in. And letting others tune into us, to share our needs, to offer ourselves more transparently to ask for help.
As I said earlier, these kinds of close interactions can be awkward, very uncomfortable. It’s not easy to let someone connect with us and know us, even when we are talking about peers or neighbors. It is amped up all the more when we’re talking about crossing economic and social divides.
But the rich man is faced with a lesson: he has not made relationship with the other and it is costing him now. And even if Lazarus wanted to help, he cannot, because the connection is not there, the chasm is too wide.
So what does this mean for us all?
First, it obviously calls us to attend to the needs of the poor and the hurting around us. Not out of some kind of karma, where we hope they’ll pay us back someday. But rather out of a compassionate understanding that we must engage the needs of the hurting.
But it has deeper, wider implications for us.
How many of us are really open about the things that hurt, the struggles we have, the pains we’re experiencing? Not many. We’d rather hide, hold back.
And how many of us are great at asking how we can help? Yeah, I’m not good at that either.
What this parable teaches us is that we need to keep practicing turning towards one another and entrusting each other with our needs. We’re not sitting on each other’s doorsteps, but we are here, together, and we have to learn to rely on each other. Some of us are really hurting and need someone to attend and attune to us. Some of us have a lot to offer, a lot of love to share. Our work is to open ourselves up to that kind of sharing, that giving away of our gifts and tuning in to one another.
I love watching this happen in Christian community. There’s a moment when you see it click: new friendships are made, old relationships leaned upon in times of trouble and joy, the first time we speak up and ask for help or support. And the bigger movements, where we step up to share our possessions and time with each other, we make our homes available to each other for meals and fellowship, we extend the hand of peace to those we have animosity with, we repair and restore our community, we cultivate life.
I love that it is a drink of water the man asks for. Tragically, it is not given. But isn’t that the simplest act of compassion — offering a cup of water. Maybe we can’t solve homelessness or mental illness or a financial situation. But can we offer that drink of water, here and now?
Amen.