The readings for today, and those for last week, all deal with wealth and its misuse.

Amos was a prophet during the time of the reign of Jereboam II, between 760 - 750 BC, long after King Solomon was dead, yet before the Babylonian exile. After King Solomon died, Israel split in two, with ten of the tribes going to Jereboam I, in the north, and two tribes in the south, Simeon and Judah, going to Reheboam. The kingdom of Israel, in the north, ended in approximately 721 BC. At the time of this reading, the king in Judah is Uzziah, also known as Azariah. Jereboam II now reigns in Israel, and there is a lot of evil associated with his reign. While many people are prosperous, the poor and needy are ignored. Amos prophecies against the surrounding countries, but lest they become complacent that God is upset with only their neighbors, he scolds Israel, as well. He tells them they will be the first to go into exile.

Prophecies of doom and gloom during times of prosperity are not popular. Later, Amos will be confronted by the prophet Amaziah, the official priest of the royal sanctuary at Bethel, who basically tells him to go prophecy somewhere else, preferably Judah. Amos replies he is not a professional prophet. He was happy herding sheep and dressing sycamore-figs when God called him. In retaliation, Amos prophecies against Amaziah, saying that because Amaziah tells him not to prophecy against Israel and against the house of Isaac, his wife will be a prostitute, his children will die by the sword, his land will be parceled out, and he will die, exiled, in an unclean land.

Good advice: Never anger a prophet of God.

In the second reading, Paul exhorts the rich not to be haughty. They are to put their hope in God rather than the transitory nature of riches.

In last week’s Gospel reading, Jesus told the parable of the dishonest manager. This week the reading concerns the rich man and Lazarus, the beggar at his gate, or porch, depending on your translation.

In between these two readings is a fascinating little exchange between Jesus and the Pharisees. Having just told the crowd that you cannot serve both God and wealth, the Pharisees ridicule him. Jesus tells them:

The Pharisees taught that the poor were cursed by God, or they wouldn’t be poor, therefore they weren’t required to care for them. Jesus now turns their rationalizations right side up.

The rich man in today’s reading dresses in expensive purple and linen garments. Purple has been a royal color for centuries because in ancient times it was expensive to make. The rich man does not even give the beggar scraps from his table. The beggar is so poor that he dies from starvation, while dogs--unclean animals in Jewish tradition--lick his wounds, thereby defiling him even more.

One of the blessings given each year on the day of Atonement is, “May your name be inscribed in the Book of Life.” In Jewish culture, even today, it is a major curse to say, “May his name be blotted out.” To have one’s name blotted out is to no longer exist in the eyes of God. This rich man has been so evil that he no longer has a name. God has obliterated it. The beggar, on the other hand, has a name, Lazarus, which was a common name in Jesus’ day. He is no relation to Lazarus, the brother of Martha and Mary of Bethany, whom Jesus resurrects.

Both die, and the situation is reversed. The beggar is in paradise, in the “bosom of Abraham,” where he is no longer suffering. The rich man, though, is tormented for his many sins, not the least of which may have been his disregard for the poor. He is able to see Lazarus and Abraham, though there is a great gulf between them. It adds to his torment, perhaps, to see that he is denied the consolation of Abraham, and the living water that belongs now to Lazarus.

Jesus is not specific about the afterlife. Because of this, many sincere Christians think his cautions about hell are allegorical or metaphorical. In Greek, there are two words generally read as hell: Gehenna, named after a trash heap that burns continually, and Hades. Gehenna is the name given the lake of fire in Revelations. Hades is depicted here as a place of punishment and flame, rather like Gehenna. Hades is usually used as a Greek translation of the Hebrew word Sheol, which is a place of darkness. In Greek mythology it was an underground place where the dead wandered, but were not punished.

In Jesus’ parables, especially today’s, the sins leading most often toward flames seem to be hypocrisy, degrading one’s neighbor, and a use of wealth characterized by lack of compassion. In His preaching, Jesus implies that neglecting spiritual development, wickedness, and causing others to fall destines a soul to a place of outer darkness, wailing, and gnashing of teeth. Interestingly enough, He does not Himself emphasize sexual sin as a road to hell. In the one instance in which a woman is caught in adultery, he does not condemn her, but tells her, “Go, and sin no more.”

Note that the rich man, who is used to being waited on, expects Abraham to send Lazarus, the beggar whom he could have easily helped while alive, to tend him in his thirst. Even though Lazarus has ascended to heaven and is in Abraham’s arms, the rich man still thinks he is important enough that he expects Lazarus to wait on him. What arrogance! What subtle imagery! I am often amazed at how well Jesus understands the human soul and portrays it in his parables. How difficult it is for us to shed our pride, even though we really have no reason for being proud. Humbling himself might have been his salvation, and yet he seems unable to do so, even in the midst of hellfire.

Humility is not emphasized here, but the right use of money and power, as Paul points out in his epistle. If we are attached to anything so that it supplants God in our lives, we are serving someone or something other than God. As Jesus says, you cannot serve both. The rich man in this parable loved his money much more than his fellow human beings, or he would not have been able to bear having a beggar dying at his door, but would have taken him in, cared for him, and possibly given him work so he might earn a living.

Many people believe that the old adage reads: “Money is the root of all evil.” This is a misquote. The correct quote comes from I Timothy, 6:10, and reads: “The love of money is a root of all kinds of evil.” Money is inanimate. It can be used for good or ill. It can be a help when spent on food, housing, jobs for people who need them, or for medical supplies for the sick, or it can be twisted by purchasing addictive drugs or weapons to do violence to others. It is our use of money, or anything else, that makes it, for us, good or evil.

This Gospel reading is also about the nature of disbelief. The rich man begs Abraham to have his brothers warned, so they do not make the same mistake. The message is clear. “If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.”

There is a sequence of events in the Bible, starting in the Old Testament, and culminating in the New Testament. God spoke directly to Abraham and to Moses. When they wandered in the desert, the Israelites saw the miracles God performed. They were afraid and asked that God not speak to them, but speak through intermediaries. God’s presence dwelt apart when they requested in fear that God not dwell with them. They requested human leaders, rather than being led by God directly, and were given judges. Finally the Israelites asked for a king. God warned them what would happen, yet they persisted, and were treated badly by king after king. They did not listen to God when God spoke, in person, or through prophets, with or without miracles.

It is common to think, “if I could just see a miracle, I would be convinced. I would believe.” Yet if I were to see a miracle, would I believe my own eyes, or would I require further proof? Our inventive minds can always rationalize a basis for doubt. If a modern miracle seems to defy explanation, then surely it is a fraud, bad documentation, or merely a bizarre coincidence or product of mental illness. Near-death experiences, angel encounters, miraculous healings, apparitions--all can be assigned to the dustbin of superstition by the skeptic.

One case in point was the wife of C. S. Lewis, Helen Joy Davidman. She suffered from advanced bone cancer. X-rays showed her hipbone was entirely eaten away. A priest named Bide, who was associated with other healings, came to Helen’s bedside to pray with Lewis. Thereafter, not only did Helen rapidly recover from her cancer, which could be explained by random spontaneous remission, but her hip bone entirely regenerated, so she was quickly able to walk again--something beyond the realm of normal scientific explanation. Yet it is human nature to ignore such evidence.

God is not a performing monkey. If God wants to be revealed, God will be revealed. We cannot make God reveal Himself if it is against His divine plan, but we can keep our eyes and ears open to His message in our lives and those of our loved ones.

Jesus did not appear to anyone other than His own disciples after His resurrection. He had done miracle after miracle in the sight of countless people, and yet very few stayed with him to Gethsemane. Several women stayed. All his apostles fled in terror except Peter, but in terror, Peter denied Jesus three times. Miracles were only a means to an end, to fulfill prophecy that pointed to the Messiah, so that those who listened to him would believe and come back to God. Jesus was here to teach us the spiritual discipline of compassion for the downtrodden, and the other fruits of the spirit, that we might be accepted in heaven. In His dying for our sins, and His resurrection, He brings us all with him into salvation.

Amen