American Church in Paris - Sermons

ACP HOME - About Us - Weekly Church Activities - Music at the ACP - The Women of the Church - FACC Activities

Sermon Archives - Past ACP Sermons

And Habits Become Character by Stephen Sours, Youth/Young Adult Pastor 30 September 2001--Ordinary 26 TEXT: 1 Timothy 6:6-12; Luke 16:19-31

What did you see as I was reading the gospel passage for this morning? Did you see the gate and the table that separated the rich man and Lazarus? Did you see the rich man in his gluttony feasting every day and Lazarus didn't even get the scraps? Did you see the color of his garments? -purple, a color so denoting power, wealth, and royalty in the Middle East that the types of purple garments certain people could wear were regulated by Roman Law. Lazarus didn't have any purple. But he did have sores-ones that were big enough to attract the dogs. Did you see the dogs tormenting Lazarus?

And then the table is turned. When they die, Lazarus gets the royal treatment. Nothing is said about the burial that all people, even the poorest, were supposed to have had, but it is said that he is carried away by angels and receives the seat of honor at the heavenly banquet-next to Father Abraham. The rich man, who undoubtedly arranged quite a funeral send-off for himself, ends up in torment, and although he is a child of Abraham (at least Abraham calls him "son"), he receives no relief.

This parable of Jesus comes at the end of a prolonged series of teachings on money. In 16:13, Jesus disarmingly states: "you cannot serve God and wealth." Then in v. 14, we read that the Pharisees, who were lovers of money, ridiculed his teaching. The reversal of fortune between Lazarus and the rich man would have shocked Jesus' listeners. In a culture which held that prosperity and success reflected one's righteousness and one's blessing from God, the final destinations of Lazarus and the rich man would have turned the whole reigning cultural paradigm on its head-which is precisely what the Gospel does, in any culture.

We cannot hear this story without trying to locate ourselves in it, and most of us in good conscience don't even entertain the idea that we are in the place of Lazarus. And on the other hand, I suspect that most of us look for reasons why we don't identify with the rich man: we notice the poor, we pray for them, we give our leftover clothes, we even give money. The rich man didn't…so we are not like the rich man. Or we attempt to spiritualize the situation and we quote 1 Timothy 6, which says that the love of money is the problem, and since we don't love money, we cannot be identified with the rich man.

First of all, that lie is simply a desperate attempt to find something to differentiate ourselves from the rich man. How can we in Western Europe and North America face the fact that our standards of living and material comfort surpass that of any generation in the history of humanity, and yet (in the US, anyway), the level of giving now, adjusted for inflation, is less than during the Great Depression! How is it that people in this world still live and die like Lazarus, and we don't cry out? We do love money.

Secondly, this parable, and indeed, the Gospel of Luke in general, does not lend itself to any spiritualizing tendencies. Note well that while the story strongly alludes to the faith-or the lack thereof-of the rich man, it does not directly address the faith or religious practices of either character. Lazarus is with Abraham because of his condition (on earth), and the rich man is in torment because of what he did not do for Lazarus.

This is entirely commensurate with Luke's account of the Beatitudes-and it is a terrifying account for a comfortable middle-class person like myself: Lke 6:20-21, 24-25. How is it that we can hear words so disturbing and troubling as that and then simply go home, have a big Sunday dinner, and then take a long nap? You see, the plight of the rich man, and of Christians in the West, is nothing new. In fact, we are aware of the statistics that show the dichotomy between us and the third world; we've seen the pictures-just as the rich man was aware of the presence of Lazarus, just as he had seen him. That's why he had a gate.

Our jaded mentality begs the question: why then don't we act? The conversation between Abraham and the rich man is revealing. The rich man wants to send Lazarus to his brothers to warn them, and Abraham simply responds, "no, let them listen to Moses and the prophets." The rich man, apparently knowing that his brothers were not avid Torah readers, knows that there's no hope in that, and insists that a ghost would convince them. And Abraham, with an obvious prophetic allusion to Jesus' resurrection, suggests that if they do not hear the prophets and Moses, they won't hear even from the Son of God who was raised from the grave.

Abraham is referring to their capacity to hear, to their ability to receive a prophetic word. If they have not been formed by their Scriptures (and apparently the rich man knew they hadn't been), they will not be able to hear what the Scriptures have to say. If they do not let God's covenant with Israel and God's word through the Torah and the voices of the prophets define their character, form their lives, and tunes their ears, then they cannot be the true children of Abraham, and their fate will be like that of the rich man.

The rich man and his brothers didn't have to look very far in the Torah to receive instruction about their formation: consider the words of Deuteronomy 15:

There will, however, be no one in need among you, because the Lord is sure to bless you in the land that the Lord your God is giving you as a possession to occupy, if only you will obey the Lord your God by diligently observing this entire commandment that I command you today. . . . If there is among you anyone in need, a member of your community in any of your towns within the land that the Lord your God is giving you, do not be hard-hearted or tightfisted toward your needy neighbor. You should rather open your hand, willingly lending enough to meet the need, whatever it may be.

Why didn't he hear these words that are so clear, so powerful, and so desirable? The answer lies in the first verse of the parable: he was a rich man who was dressed in purple and who feasted sumptuously every day. The habits of this man formed his character, and listening to the Scriptures was not one of his habits, or if it was, the feasting was enough to counter it.

This is the warning of 1 Tim 6: "in their eagerness to be rich, some have wandered away from the faith." In order to get rich and stay rich, quite often, one must have certain habits that are at odds with Christian discipleship. Again, v. 9: "those who want to be rich fall into temptation and are trapped"-like the rich man now knows his brothers are-"by many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction," as the rich man now is.

You see, it's not just Scripture reading that needs to be one of our habits, although that is one of the most important, but what Timothy and this parable teach is that all of our habits and all our practices as individuals and as a community shape and form our characters. This was the teaching of the fathers of the early church, and I was shocked when I learned that G.S. Harak in his book Virtuous Passions notes that chemical and electrical changes in our bodies and brains take place in response to our habits. It's why Marva Dawn, in her book about the Church's response to its children, is so sure to point out that children who watch television have smaller brains and fewer neural synapses than those who do not. Our habits form our character. The more we eat, the more we want to eat. The more we practice violence, the more violent we become. The more sex we consume, the more explicit it must become. The more resources we hoard, the more greedy we become. That's why Christians from wealthy countries who go to the third world "to help" always come back amazed at the contentment and joy that their hosts exude. Again, 1 Tim 6:6: "but if we have food and clothing, we will be content with these."

But if some habits plunge us into ruin and destruction, the reverse is also true; some habits enable us to "fight the good fight of faith." The more we give, the more we enjoy giving and want to give, and the more charitable we become. The more we make ourselves pray, the easier it becomes. The more we study the Scriptures, the more readily God's word comes to mind and the more we have the mind of God. The more we celebrate the Eucharist, sing praises, and participate in worship, the more we are formed into being a people who reveals God's glory.

That's why I'm so thrilled this year that we can offer the chance to our jr. highers to attend worship. If the church, in its worship and communal life, does not form these young folk, you can be sure that Hollywood, the media, the schools, and the neighborhood will. Such is the case with our lives. Our characters are formed by our work, our friends, our family, our consumption-especially of electronic media, and by our participation from all the facets of our communal life as a people of God.

Heaven forbid that one day a parable such as this be told about the American Church: one time there was big, vibrant church with lots of busy people located in a comfortable neighborhood of one of Paris' richest arrondisements. It was visited by ambassadors, prime ministers, and presidents, and had its picture on television and in the newspapers, but across the bridge there was a group of men whose names nobody knew, and they came regularly to be fed, for they had nothing. And as it turned out, a coordinator for this church's weekly commitment to prepare meals for these men could no longer be found, and the church had to end its involvement in the program. And when the men died…

Thank God we have to end the story there, because we don't know how it will end. You see, unlike Lazarus and the Rich Man, we are still on this side of life, and Jesus words warn us not to check our hearts, because they reach out with compassion. And not to check our minds, because we believe firmly in our tradition to help at the Cathedral. And it's not simply the Cathedral program I speak about, but this program serves as a symbol, as a window, into our communal life as a people of God. Rather, Jesus' words warn us to check our habits, our practices, and the actions of our everyday lives, to test and see whether or not our characters are being formed in such a way that we hear the voice of the one who has risen from the dead, Christ Jesus our Lord.

ACP HOME - About Us - Weekly Church Activities - Music at the ACP - The Women of the Church - FACC Activities