Proper 26, Year C

We get invited for a special international dinner: an experience of what people eat around the world.  It sounds like fun.  Our host says there will be some surprises involved.  It is a dinner for 20 people.  As we arrive, each of the 20 people reaches into a basket and draws a place card, at random, which tells each of us where we will sit. 

The four people who have drawn the place cards that say #1, #2, #3, and #4 are called first and seated at a table with silverware and a tablecloth.  There is a basket of rolls and butter, and the waiter fills their glasses with a choice of juice or pop.  The waiter then brings over a tray with salads, and then pasta with meat sauce.  

The MC begins to speak:

“If you are sitting over here, you represent the 20 percent of the world’s population with the highest per capita income.  To be a member of this very fortunate group, you need to earn a minimum income of just $12,683 a year. Most of you are lucky enough to be able to afford a nutritious daily diet. Because some of you even exceed your daily require­ment of calories, you are likely to face health problems such as heart disease and diabetes. The good news is that many of you have access to the best medical care in the world. It’s a given that your children will attend school; the only uncertainty is how many years they will study after high school. You and your family live in a comfortable and secure home.  You probably own at least one car and two televisions.  When you take your annual vacation, you don’t worry about your job disappearing in your absence.  You have access to virtually everything you need and the security to enjoy it.”

The MC next speaks to the people who have drawn place cards #5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10.  The six people come forward but there is no table for them, only chairs.   The MC begins to speak to the second group.

“If you are sitting here, you represent roughly 30 percent of the world’s population. You earn between $4,058 and $12,683  a year. The levels of access and security you enjoy vary greatly. You live on the edge. For many, it would take losing only one har­vest to drought or a serious illness to throw you into poverty.

You probably own no land and may work as a day laborer, a job that pays a paltry amount—but it’s better than nothing. Your small income allows for some use of electricity and a few years of schooling for your children—especially if they are boys. Alternatively, you may have left your family to go work in the city. You hope that the money you earn from your less-than-minimum-wage job as domestic help or sweatshop worker will eventually allow you to move back home and make a better life for your family.”

The MC tells the six people in this group that they can go over to the counter and get a plate of rice and beans, and a cup of water.

The MC calls for #11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20: the remaining ten people.  He tells them they can sit on the floor.  He begins to speak.

“If you are sitting on the floor, you represent the majority of the world’s population—roughly 50 percent. Your average income is less than $4,058 a year—under $12 a day—although many of you earn much less.  Every day is a struggle to meet your family’s basic needs. Find­ing food, water, and shelter can consume your entire day.  For many of you women, it would not be uncommon to have to walk five to 10 miles every day to get water, spend several more hours working in the fields, and of course, take care of the children. And when food is scarce, you often eat less so that other family members will have enough.  Many of you, both women and men, are frequently hungry. It is quite likely that you don’t get the minimum number of calories your hardworking life requires. Some of you are homeless or living in structures so flimsy that a hard rain or strong wind could cause a major catastrophe.

Even though education is the single most powerful weapon against poverty, school is a luxury few of your children will ever experience. Most girls don’t even bother to dream about school.  Adequate health care is out of the question. For most of you, early death is all too familiar, with many mothers expecting to lose one or two children before they turn 5.  If you are lucky enough to work, you are probably a tenant farmer who must give your landowner 75 percent of your har­vest. Or you may get occasional work as a day laborer at a large plantation growing bananas, sugar, or coffee for export. You reap few benefits from these crops; you’d prefer to grow food your children could eat.

You can go to the edge of the room, where there are ten plates which contain three quarters of a cup of rice, or less.  There are ten cups of water.  Some of the cups have water that is clean.

The MC tells all twenty people to begin eating.  Bon appetit! 

When Jesus tells the parable of the rich man and Lazarus, we may not think of ourself as a rich person.  All of us, myself included, complain about having too many expenses and not enough money.  Each of us thinks of “rich people” as “people who have more money than I do.”  So each of us thinks, “I’m not a rich person.”  But if you asked the rest of the world’s population if you are a rich person, how many of them would tell you that you’re not rich?

We read this parable, and we wonder, “How could the rich man be so lacking in compassion for the suffering of Lazarus?”  Part of the answer lies in Jesus’ words that Lazarus is “outside the gate.”  Out of sight, out of mind.  

The dinner experience I described is an experience called the “Hunger Banquet” designed by Oxfam International.  The quotations from the MC and the description of the event come from the Hunger Banquet Toolkit available from the Oxfam website.  There’s a link in the written copy of this sermon: https://www.oxfamamerica.org/take-action/oxfam-hunger-banquet/ [I have converted income in USD in the toolkit to CAD in the sermon at the rate of 1.39]  It can be carried out in churches and a variety of other settings.  One of the effects of it is to remind us of the lives of people outside the gate.

Certainly the causes of inequality are complex and the solutions we have aren’t perfect.  But could I, by writing a cheque, save the life one of those malnourished kids?  Could I spare another mother from the experience of watching her toddler slowly die in her arms?  Could I save two of those malnourished children?  Could I save three?  And if I could save one of the people who is suffering outside the gate, like Lazarus, who longs to satisfy his hunger with the crumbs that fall from the rich person’s table, is that worth the sacrifice of some of my income?

At first, the hungry people seem so distant.  But when I go to meetings of the Anglican Church of Canada and meetings of our Diocese, I hear about amazing things that our Diocese and our Anglican Church are doing to help those who suffer from hunger and poverty in Haiti, and Palestine, and the Sudan, and many other places around the world. I also hear about the amazing work our Church and our Diocese do for the hungry, the homeless, and the marginalized here in Canada.  As we honour the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, we remember our Diocese’s work with Urban Indigenous Ministry in Toronto as well as its work in rural areas.  These programs include providing food for the hungry.  And every year, the leaders of those amazing programs say “You tell us it’s important for the Church to feed the hungry, and we are, but it takes money.”  The Diocese’s money comes from parishes, and the parishes’ money comes from parishioners.  The Church’s feeding the hungry relies on money you put in the offering plate and give by PAR.  

I love that we have potluck meals here at St. John’s, which are opportunities for fellowship, developing caring relationships, and sharing food. I love seeing the willingness to share food hospitably with one another.  And I love that St. John’s is now extending that hospitality and sharing of food to our neighbours who live in very difficult circumstances, including homelessness.  It is a way of seeing Lazarus who used to be outside the gate, and inviting him inside the gate and offering him a meal and a welcome and a sense of community.  

At the last planning meeting for these suppers, one of our parishioners pointed out to us that the money required for us to provide these Saturday suppers is not just the cost of the groceries, it also includes the overhead.  I had not thought about the unseen costs, but I realized he was right.  It’s the increased costs of every hour of running the heat in the winter and the air conditioning in the summer.  It’s the water that goes into the cooking and the dishwashing.  And it’s the energy to heat the water.  Also, the water heater that our church has had for many years is breaking down this year, and so we will replace it with a rented water heater that will cost $21 a month from now on.  And the drains that the water goes into are having problems, so we have now started paying to have them cleaned out twice a year, and our old sump pump just wore out, so we had to pay to get a new one.  People often make a false dichotomy between money that goes to buildings and money that goes to outreach to the poor, but they’re deeply intertwined.  And because wear and tear is a constant effect of simple physics, the need for repair and replacement is always ongoing.  The overhead includes the roof that is literally over our heads during those suppers.  The money people gave to the roof fund last year is what prevents the rain from falling on the heads of the people at those suppers.  

Obviously, these things are beneficial to our congregation too, every time we drink coffee from a clean cup, or flush a toilet, or even walk into a heated room.  There isn’t a dichotomy between what’s for “us” and what’s for “them” and there shouldn’t be.  My point is that we normally don’t notice all the things that require money, but those things still exist and they are essential for doing ministry. Our ability to feed the hungry depends on all of us doing our part to give to our church.  You will have more information in your stewardship packets in a couple weeks to help you reflect and pray about where you fit in and whether you might step up in doing your part as we give together for good.

The Church’s feeding the hungry is based on what you amount you choose to give to the Church. Do you think it’s important for the Church to feed the hungry?  You are the Church.  It is based on what you give or don’t give.  The ways to feed Lazarus are close to hand.  All it takes is our own willingness.

And that willingness to give money is a spiritual issue.  We are used to thinking of our spirituality as a private matter, something just between our soul and God.  But when Jesus talks here about what happens to the soul, it is not a private matter; Jesus talks about the rich man in relation to a member of the public: the poor man outside the gate.  When we think of sin, we normally think of things we have done.  We figure if we haven’t done anything particularly horrible, we’re pretty okay.  Right? 

This man in the parable may be generous to his friends, and invite them over for his feasting.  He figures if he hasn’t done anything particularly horrible, he’s pretty okay.  Right?  But what about Lazarus, lying outside the gate, covered with sores, longing to satisfy his hunger from the crumbs that fall from the rich man’s table?

If I sit at my table and eat my pasta with meat sauce without bothering anybody, I’m pretty okay.  Right?  And if there’s someone sitting on the floor eating half a cup of rice and a cup of unsafe water who suffers from malnutrition while I eat my dinner?  Well, that isn’t really my fault.  Right?  Because I thought that not hurting anybody was enough.  

Or is Judgment Day the day I look into the eyes of each of the people whose suffering I could have relieved by donating some more money, but didn’t.  Is Judgment Day the day that I plead for a chance to go back, to do it over again, to get it right?

Every Sunday, in the silence right before the prayer of confession, each of us has a chance to look back over the week and confess any particular sins we remember, and that is a valuable thing to do.  But during that silence, it is important to keep in mind that we have sinned by what we have done, and by what we have left UNDONE.  Even when we run out of remembered sins to confess during that silence, there are the things left undone, there are donations not given.  The rich man in today’s gospel winds up in Hell not because of something he has done; he winds up in Hell because of what he has left undone.

Our scripture reading from Timothy is also talking about money.  And it also talks about the connection between our stewardship of money in this world and the riches of the world to come, including some of the messages we talked about in last Sunday’s sermon.  It says “there is great gain in godliness combined with contentment; for we brought nothing into the world, so that we can take nothing out of it; but if we have food and clothing, we will be content with these.”  And as we read this scripture’s instructions to the rich, it’s helpful to keep in mind the definition of “rich” that we see in the demonstration of the rich and poor of the world in the Oxfam banquet.  Timothy says, “As for those who in the present age are rich, command them…They are to do good, be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share, thus storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of the life that really is life.”  So we can consider ourselves commanded to be generous.

In today’s gospel, Jesus is talking about money.  Again.  In this parable, Jesus teaches that what happens after our death is directly related to what we have done with our money, or to put it more precisely, what we have left undone with our money.  And for me, the part of the parable I feel most keenly is the part in which the rich man pleads to have Lazarus go to his brothers and warn them so that they do not end up in the place of torment.  It is too late for him, but he feels the urgent desire to tell the brothers he loves to give their money generously.  Now that he has looked into the eyes of Lazarus, whose suffering he could have relieved by generosity with his money, he desperately wants to tell them what he has seen, to tell them to be generous with their money.  Who are the brothers he wants so desperately to tell this message to?  We are.

We are alive.  We get another chance to be generous.  We get another chance to increase our stewardship, to change the number on our PAR form.  We get another chance to relieve someone’s suffering.  We get another chance to save someone’s life.  We get another chance to go to the dinner, and this time when we sit at the table with plenty of food, we get to share it with someone who needs it.  Not just in a simulation, in reality.  Jesus tells us it is the chance of a lifetime.