Thankful Memorial Episcopal Church, Chattanooga
September 29, 2019; Year C, 16 Pentecost, Proper 21

Jeremiah 32:1-3a, 6-15; Psalm 91:1-6, 14-16; 1 Timothy 6:6-19; Luke 16:19-31

Oftentimes, the readings we’re given on a Sunday morning are grouped around a shared idea.  And, to some extent, that seems to be the case today.  Only, there are two distinct themes in these readings.  The Old Testament lessons from Jeremiah and Psalm 91 are powerful reminders of God’s mercy, strength and grace, of the fact that we can trust in God even in the midst of the “terror by night” and “the plague that stalks in the darkness.”  And then we get to the New Testament lessons and the subject matter takes an unrelated jump.  We hear a set of admonitions and a parable that remind us about the ways in which “the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil.” 

Both morals are good ones, of course, but surely they have very little to do with each other.  And yet, hear again the collect we prayed together this morning: “O God, you declare your almighty power chiefly in showing mercy and pity: Grant us the fullness of your grace, that we, running to obtain your promises, may become partakers of your heavenly treasure.” 

Our faith teaches us that God’s power comes not from a place of anger or through acts of dominance, but by the divine show of mercy, pity and love.  And, we pray that when we choose to be disciples of that same God that we will “become partakers” of such “heavenly treasure.”  We will “partake” in God’s love both in the sense of receiving it and of participating in it, taking part in the show of the power of God’s almighty love. 

And that’s why these readings – all these readings – do, in fact, hang together. 

Let’s take the lesson from Jeremiah first, the story of the prophet’s purchase of some land.  At the time of this land-deal, Jeremiah was a prisoner of Zedekiah, the king of Judah.  Zedekiah had imprisoned Jeremiah because the king wasn’t a big fan of what Jeremiah had to say: warnings from God that the people of Judah, led by their king, had strayed far from the paths of righteousness and that as a result, God would allow the Babylonian empire to conquer the land of Judah, destroying its sovereignty and dispersing its people.  Even at this moment, the Babylonian army is camped outside the gates of Jerusalem, besieging the city. 

Yet in the midst of all that, Jeremiah goes and buys a seemingly worthless plot of land that is already under the feet of Babylonian soldiers.   Why would he do something like that? “For thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel: Houses and fields and vineyards shall be bought in this land.” 

By his actions, Jeremiah makes real God’s promise to the people of Judah that God will not forsake them entirely.  Even though things look pretty bad, even though things really are about to get a lot worse, there is still hope, Jeremiah tells us.  There is always still hope because God is a God whose power is shown primarily through mercy and love.  Even though the enemy is at the door, even though Judah’s doom is upon her, even if Jeremiah himself does not survive this ordeal, by purchasing this land, by having the deal witnessed and the deeds sealed and kept for future generations, Jeremiah exhibits faith in God’s promise that all will not be lost, that future generations will indeed buy and sell and own and take pleasure in the land.  In short, Jeremiah acts out the words of God of which the psalmist sings: “Because he is bound to me in love, therefore will I deliver him.”  Even when all seems lost, fear not, for God’s mercy and power are one and the same and they abound.  So says the lesson from Jeremiah. 

But in the parable from Luke’s gospel, mercy seems to be entirely absent.  Of course, the rich man himself showed no mercy in life.  While Lazarus lay miserable at his gates, the rich man “feasted sumptuously every day” and failed to provide even the scraps from his table to the poor man at his door.  But, though the rich man’s agony in Hades might be deserved, where is God’s mercy here?  Not even Father Abraham can help him across the “great chasm [that] has been fixed” there. 

But perhaps it is the rich man’s own hardness, not God’s, that causes that great chasm to be fixed.  Even now, even here, in Hades, the rich man is unrepentant.  Despite his agony, he has not had a change of heart when it comes to Lazarus; he still shows no mercy.  Were it possible the rich man would still have Lazarus do his bidding, sent to quench his thirst or warn his brothers.  The fires of hell have done nothing to melt away his hardness of heart when it comes to those whom he deems worth less than himself.  Thomas Aquinas explained that God gives us freedom to be what we want to be, and rather than overpower us God leaves us to choose our path, even if doing so results in our isolation or misery – or both. 

Ultimately, the once-rich man – in life and in death – still fails to understand “Moses and the prophets,” all the words and examples of God’s will and love for God’s people that have been revealed to him.  Even in Hades, he refuses to engage Lazarus as another human being worthy of as much dignity as himself. 

And here’s where the messages of all these readings finally merge.  The lessons from Jeremiah and the psalm remind us that God’s grace abounds, that even in the darkest places, God’s mercy is made available to us and God’s power of love will yet hold firm.  All we have to do is partake of it.  And, Jesus’ parable in Luke’s gospel tells us, what we must do is partake of it, take part in that same love and mercy in our own lives by showing it to others, being “rich in good works, generous, and ready to share, thus storing up… the treasure” of heaven that God so abundantly shares with us right now.  Amen.