Looking Up and Looking Around

The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Year C, Proper 21)
September 30, 2007

The Reverend Paul R. Abernathy, Rector

He lived in a condo well above the tree tops with a great unobstructed view of the White House and the Washington Monument. Although not a gated community – only a high rise, however luxurious – it was as close to gated as he could get. A twenty-four hour electronic security system. An attendant, stationed round the clock at the one and only exterior door. He had little fear of the world crashing in on his life – a life, like a cup filled and overflowing, of wealth and ease. He didn’t get out much. In fact, the only outdoor experiences he knew were the few steps between the front door and the rear seat of his chauffeur driven limousine. Steps he always took far too briskly to notice the poor man stretched out at the curb begging to be seen. Begging in vain. His name? Lazarus, which means “God has helped.” Good thing, for no help was forthcoming from the rich man’s hands.

One lived high. The other low. Different in life. And in death.

The rich man’s body was laid to rest in a massive marble mausoleum in Rock Creek Park Cemetery. But his soul was confined in the hell of the bitter memories of all who knew him and stood unnoticed in the shadows of his selfish life.

The other was too poor to be buried. But, as urban legend tells it, sympathetic angels flew down to earth and carried his body to the bosom of Abraham where his soul found comfort and care.

I contemporize, bringing up to date, and localize, bringing close to home, Jesus’ parable of the rich man and Lazarus,^[1] so that we, St. Mark’s, might see ourselves in the story. We, who as individuals and as a community, when compared to many others, are wealthy beyond measure in talent, achievement, and, yes, money. And in our wealth, we have power – that capacity to have an affect so to produce an effect; to effect change.

Now, I don’t like to be discomfited any more than anyone else. So, I hasten to say that Jesus, by this parable, wasn’t denouncing wealth itself or its accumulation. His purpose isn’t to condemn, but rather to caution. To warn us of this danger. That our wealth – rather than being a blessing in our hands, our use of which can empower others – can overpower us so that we can’t see beyond our own needs and desires. The rich man wasn’t a bad man, rather he was a blind man – ironically, though he could see – because he never looked up and looked around.

The theme of our shared sabbatical – Twenty-First Century Evangelism: Conversation, Not Conversion with “The Other” – was all about looking up and looking around.

The theme of this post-sabbatical period – What Now, What Next St. Mark’s? – is all about looking up and looking around.

The theme of our coming Canvass, our annual financial stewardship campaign – Giving humbly from our abundance to a world in waiting – is all about looking up and looking around.

Looking up and looking around at the world and the people outside of our community to see how we, as a people, might reach out to others unlike us with hands and hearts of hope and hospitality, for we have so much to give and so much to receive.

Looking up and looking around is what we will do today as we, as a community in conversation, seek to discern ways by which we, as sympathetic angels, might help others in this world other than ourselves find comfort and care.

[1] The gospel passage appointed for the day is Luke 16.19-31.