Text: Luke 16:19-31                                                                                           W 19^th Sunday after Pentecost

You Won’t Believe your Eyes

            In the name of Jesus, dear friends in Christ:  Today’s Gospel lesson, the story of the lives and afterlives of a rich man and a poor beggar named Lazarus, is surely one of the more disturbing teachings of our Lord.  Its vivid description of the suffering of the damned is particularly unsettling to us—people in such awful torment that just a tiny drop of water from a moistened finger touched to the tongue would seem to be an immeasurably great relief.  Such a scene certainly causes us to ratchet up our respect and appropriate fear of God’s wrath against our sin—something we all tend to dismiss too easily and forget once we figure we’re in the clear on account of our faith in Christ.  We shouldn’t forget God’s wrath.  “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.”  An appropriate despair of our sinful condition and consequent dread of judgment is what leads us to the cross of Christ and to his forgiveness. If we lose completely our fear of judgment we cannot long hold fast to the godly wisdom of the Gospel.  So it’s good for us to be shaken up from time to time.

As well we are with a story like this because it’s specifically the rich man who lifts up his eyes in the fires of hell.  On the surface, anyway, if we want to find ourselves in the story, the truth is that we have a lot more in common with him than with Lazarus.  Here in America, even a household with very modest means spends more in the average week than about a third of the world’s families manage to earn in an entire year.  The rich man in this story is not like a Donald Trump or a Bill Gates.  If you have a closet full of clothes and have the means to eat three square meals a day you have just as much as he did – and probably more.  Fortunately for us, we know that entry into the kingdom of God is a matter of trust in Jesus Christ and his atoning work on the cross and not a question of relative income.  So we don’t want to make the mistake of thinking that reason the rich man is condemned to eternal torment is because he had it so good in this life, nor that Lazarus was carried to the comfort and abundance of the heavenly feast at Abraham’s side simply because his earthly life was so bad.  That would be a terrible misreading of the story.

But what are we to make of it?  Is it a parable of Jesus that’s not meant to be taken literally in every detail?  Or is it an account of something that actually happened—or at least that potentially could have happened?  There’s a lot of debate about it among theologians.  If it’s only a parable, it seems odd that it’s the only one in which Jesus specifically names two of the people involved.  But on the other hand, it’s awfully hard to imagine the saved gathering around heavenly banquet tables and enjoying themselves very much while having what seems to be a box seat view overlooking the lake of fire where the damned are burning below, and then having their pleasant dinner conversations constantly interrupted by screams of agony and piteous cries for relief. Maybe it’s just me, but I would think that would kind of detract from the otherwise pleasant atmosphere.

But whether it’s a story of historical fact or merely a parable designed to illustrate a point, I am reasonably confident that the main purpose of the story is not give precise descriptions of the state of existence people will know in heaven or in hell – though it may very well do that – but rather it’s to challenge certain assumptions people often make about how God moves and operates in the world.  The story asks us to reevaluate what we think we know and what we believe with respect to God and our relationship with him based upon our observations of things that happen in the world around us.  That is to say, we tend to think that there should be a direct correlation between what we see and what we believe.  The main point of the parable is that we shouldn’t make that assumption.  We walk by faith and not by sight; and indeed, there are times when, if you are walking by faith, you won’t believe your eyes. 

            Allow me to explain that.  This particular teaching of Jesus is part of a larger discussion that our Lord had with his disciples while the Pharisees and the Teachers of the Law were also present and listening to what he had to say.  You may remember that these were the two groups that were so offended that a religious teacher like Jesus was frequently found in the company of some of society’s worst elements:  the manifest sinners, prostitutes, and tax collectors.  To them it didn’t look right – and to them, appearances meant everything.  But for the past couple of weeks, we’ve been hearing how Jesus told them that their perception of the situation was mistaken.  By focusing his time and attention on them, the worst of society, Jesus was not endorsing their obviously sinful lifestyles; rather he was calling them to repentance and declaring God’s grace and forgiveness to those who were sorry for their sins.  That was what Jesus had come to do for all people – not just for those whose sins were easy for all to see, but also for those like the Pharisees and Teachers of the Law who made such a production of their good, clean living and the outward appearance of righteousness, but who within were completely filled with the sins of pride, of self-righteousness, and of a cut-throat sense competition within their own class for who could claim the greatest level of holiness and wisdom for himself.  Sin lurks in all people – damnable sin worthy of the Lord’s wrath and eternal punishment – and all need to come to the same place of repentance. The problem is that those sins that are not so easy to see can be a real blind spot for those for whom appearance is all that matters.  

            And so in the course of the conversation with those whose religion is so reliant on sight, Jesus moves on to attack some other perceptions they have that are also mistaken.  You see, it turns out that not only were the Pharisees and Teachers of the Law preoccupied with appearing to be good, they also made a point of appearing to be rich.  And that was easy for most of them because generally speaking they came from the wealthiest and most privileged portion of their society.  But for them it was very important to be rich and display the trappings of wealth.  Their faith, such as it was, depended upon it.  That’s because they equated wealth with God’s favor.  Worldly wealth was God’s way of rewarding people for their obedience to him. And so if you were rich, it was proof that God was happy with you and the way you were living your life. Wealth was the certain stamp of divine approval.  And if you happened to be a Pharisee whose business suddenly turned sour and you lost all your wealth … oh, well then your fellows would cast knowing glances at each other that spoke volumes about how, in the privacy of your home and when no one was looking, you didn’t really scrupulously keep all the rules and regulations the brotherhood held so dear.  You had it coming, you hypocrite.

            And I want to be careful here to mention that the Scriptures do indeed promise over and over again God’s favor and abundant material blessings in this life on those who love him and keep his commandments.  The trouble is no one really does that.  All have sinned and gone astray – and all keep sinning and going astray.  The point is that since the promise hangs on a condition that none of us keeps, we really can’t draw the conclusion that having wealth is proof of God’s approval. Besides, the Scriptures also contain many examples of people who are faithful and repentant and who are trusting in God’s grace and mercy – that is, people who are truly righteous in God’s sight – who, nevertheless, suffer poverty, terrible setbacks and losses, horrible diseases and handicaps.  Their miserable circumstances are not visible signs of the Lord’s disapproval.

            But this is something the Pharisees hadn’t grasped, which is why Jesus tells the story of the rich man and Lazarus.  They would naturally have assumed that the rich man was good and holy – that’s why he had been so blessed.  And so they would have taken it for granted that upon his death he would have been received into glory.  Likewise, they would have assumed that Lazarus deserved the wretched life he had: destitute, hungry, and clothed in filthy rags; his only comforters the dogs that licked his oozing sores.  It was surely just payment for sins too horrendous to imagine; but even then, only a foretaste of the misery that would be his lot in the afterlife.  And with this in mind, I’m sure you understand how shocked and upset the Pharisees and their allies would have been upon hearing this story and the surprising way it turns out.  The very idea that outward signs of health, wealth, and prosperity were not direct evidence of God’s good pleasure and approval would have been quite offensive to them – and you know, sometimes it is to us as well.

Just for example, often I’ll hear well-intentioned Christians saying that America was blessed in the past because it was a faithful and god-fearing nation founded on Christian principles.  Things are slipping today because of rampant immorality and unfaithfulness.  We’re losing God’s approval on our nation. For goodness’ sake, we can’t even display the Ten Commandments in public places anymore. And, oh, if only we’d get our act together and obey the Lord the good times would come upon us again.  Well, I hate to break it to them, but the lauded good old days of morality and faithfulness in the past were not all that they are sometimes purported to be.  Even the founding fathers and brave minutemen were sinners; and the fact of the matter is that not all that many of them were Christians.  Really, if there were a direct correlation between the wealth of a nation and it’s obedience to God, I guess that Saudi Arabia would have to be one of the most righteous nations on earth:  the per capita income there is huge.  And you know what?  It’s against the law to publicly practice Christianity there.

In a similar way, sometimes people will tell me, “I know my faith is certain” or that “God is with me” because … and then what will follow is an account of some close brush with danger, or of some special blessing received, or of an amazing recovery from an illness, or whatever.  That is to say, “My faith is certain because of something I’ve seen or experienced.” I wonder, does that mean that when a serious accident happens, or when you get that one in million terminal illness, or when the bottom falls out of your career – does that mean your faith is worthless and that God has rejected you?

And so I hope you understand what I’m trying to say here.  It’s a mistake to try to find proof of what you believe to be God’s attitude toward you, or to measure the quality of your relationship with him, based upon what is seen and experienced in your life.  It’s wrong to allow what you see determine what you believe.  You have only to consider the Lord Jesus’ suffering on the cross to know that this is true.  What the disciples saw and experienced there was awful.  Their world was coming apart.  Their leader, the one they had been convinced was the promised Savior, turned out to be a big failure – which could only mean that he was some kind of fraud, that they had been wrong about him, and that the wonderful things he told them were a bunch of lies.  At least, that’s the way it appeared to them.  But they were wrong.  And they were wrong because they let what they see determine what they believed, and they forgot what Jesus had said to them.

And that, of course, is the only sure and certain ground of faith:  not what is seen and experienced, but rather what Jesus has said—or in a broader sense, what God has said in all of the Scriptures.  That’s exactly what we find in today’s story.  When the rich man, in hell, asks that Lazarus be sent back to warn his brothers of what awaits them if they don’t repent, Abraham replies that they have what they need.  They have Moses and the Prophets to warn and to teach them.  They have God’s Word – it’s hearing the Word that creates saving faith.  “No!” the man argues, “What they need is to see something spectacular.  They need to experience a miracle, like someone rising from the dead.  That will convince them.”  And you see, what he’s doing is making the same mistake he made in life.  He’s assuming that faith comes of having some sort of experience – that what you see is the ground and source of faith. Abraham tells the man that it just doesn’t work that way.  “If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone rises from the dead.”

And you probably remember that Jesus demonstrated this in a later event.  Only a week or two before his arrest Jesus raised up a man who had been dead for four days – a man who just happened to be named Lazarus.  He did it in a town that was basically a bedroom community for the city of Jerusalem in front of a whole crowd. There were some Pharisees present when it happened – and they ran to the city to tell the others of their group and the rest of Jesus’ enemies what he had done.  It’s interesting that when they met in council, they didn’t deny the miracle.  They believed that Jesus had raised Lazarus who had been dead four days.  But instead of letting what they had seen convince them and turn to the One who had proven that he had mastery over death in power of his voice, they dug in against him and decided that they had to kill him. Again, the point is that because they had already rejected what Jesus had said, and rejected what Moses and Prophets had said about him, it didn’t make a bit a difference what they saw and experienced.  Seeing is not believing.

It works the other way around.  Faith, believing, comes by hearing the Word of God; that is, listening to Jesus and to what Moses and the Prophets have written.  Through his Word the Lord creates and establishes relationships with man. Through the Word of God the Holy Spirit works to create faith in Jesus and his atoning sacrifice on the cross in the hearts of his people.  And once people believe and trust in Jesus, they learn not to believe what their eyes and their senses seem to tell them.  Or rather, they let what Jesus says help them to see things not as they appear, but as they really are.

Just for example, the Scriptures declare that God works together in all things for the good of those who trust in him.  You would not have seen that by looking at Lazarus in his pathetic condition.  What you saw would have told you that God had cursed him.  But by faith we see that God really was working for his good.  God does indeed bless his people; but he does so always with an eye toward giving what they need to keep and preserve them in faith for everlasting life.  Let me suggest that it was Lazarus’ misery that kept him focused on God’s promises – that kept his heart on the Lord and looking to him for help – and furthermore, that the Lord knew that Lazarus needed that level of affliction keep his saving faith until the end – and it did.  Therefore what appeared to be curse was in fact a great blessing.  Take it a step further.  The rich man considered his wealth a sign of God’s approval.  It wasn’t.  And doubtless he considered it a major annoyance that someone had deposited a poor beggar on his porch.  But what the rich man needed in his life was to be confronted with his sins of selfishness and self-reliance on his own imagined goodness.  By placing Lazarus at his gate, the Lord did exactly that.  It was only by covering his ears and ignoring what the rich man knew the Lord had said in his Word about caring for the poor and needy that he could continue to indulge himself and neglect his now closest neighbor.  Lazarus was to him a living sermon through whom the Lord could pound his message like a hammer to crack open his sin-hardened heart.  It was the Lord’s effort to reach him, bring him to repentance, and turn him from his sin.  Sadly, in this case, to no avail.  But that the rich man did not see the gift for what it was does not negate the grace of God who gave it to him.

            You don’t want to make the same mistake.  Instead, living by faith in the Word of God, you want to learn not to believe your eyes; but rather to let your faith in the Word of Christ help you to see things as they really are.  And the way things are is the way God says they are, and not necessarily as they appear. Through such vision of faith what appeared to be the tortured death of a Jewish man two thousand years ago is seen to be the single most important event in world history:  the act through which God gave his Son to atone for the sins of the world.  Through such vision of faith a few of handfuls of water is seen to be the way the Lord united you to that sacrificial death and gave you rebirth as his holy child. Through such vision of faith a wafer of unleavened bread and a sip of wine are seen to be the very body and blood of Jesus given to you to assure you that your sins are forgiven and that Christ lives in you and you in him.  And through such vision of faith all things, your material prosperity, your joys, and your triumphs, as well as your pains, losses, and sorrows, are all seen to be means through which God is at work for your good to keep and preserve you in the one true faith and bring you to everlasting life.  May we then gladly hear his Word, taking every opportunity, that we may walk by faith in it alone, and not believe our eyes.  In Jesus name.  Amen.

Soli Deo Gloria!