The unReachables

A brief history lesson.

A few hundred years ago, people not of this place came here, to this seemingly vast expanse of empty land with a mixture of self-importance, a new sort of greed and a mindset of extraction and capitalism. Big words, but simple meanings, having a lot; land, money was top of their agenda. More was better. They also brought their sort of Christianity, which also fit into their colonizer mindset, they knew best, they were top of the food chain and any natural inhabitants of this land, were lesser.

They brought their Bibles too, but with their interpretations of the time, which justified their actions, to tame the savage and assimilate all into their modern culture. In their perspective, they had heeded the lesson in the parable of the Rich man and Lazarus. I'm sure they felt they were helping Lazarus, not ignoring him, but by maybe gifting him a piece of his own land, feeding him a portion of their food, doctoring him and in a tidy way, ignoring the riches they were building up at his expense. I think some people still may have this mindset.

Now I want to talk to you about blackberries.

Last week I was blackberry picking alongside our road. The crickets were chirping and I could smell the ocean, the tide had just gone out and maybe you know that smell, it's heavenly.

I'd picked about 3 pints of berries, but I noticed that there were some massive ripe berries high in a tree. Here on the west coast, it's not a strange sight to see blackberry brambles climbing high into a fir or cedar. Even with my handy step stool I couldn't reach them. So, I drank them in with my eyes instead, all their beauty on this perfect day.

I can tell you that that parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus was far from my thoughts, but I did have Orange Shirt day on my mind, especially with the recent discovery of more unmarked graves at the St Augustine Residential School site, near where I live on the Sunshine Coast, (please pray for the Shechelt nation). It made me think about colonization, and the resulting pain which has echoed through generations of families and communities, my own included. It made me think about Reconciliation and how as a concept, it too can seem really far away, like those berries high in the fir tree, and the great distance between those berries and my hands. Some things seem unreachable.

When I came back home to research this homily, a little more purple stained than when I left, I found a link to Luke. Professor Dr. Lois Malcolm says, "The story of the rich man and Lazarus might be difficult for many North Americans, whose lifestyle stands in sharp contrast with a majority of people in the world who live on much less. Like so much else that Luke says about money and possessions, it stands as a stinging indictment not only of the great confidence we place in financial security, but also of the drastic inequities between rich and poor we allow to perpetuate".

But I was looking at the link to that parable through the lens of colonization. That I should give more money to charity, help the poor, share what I have. If I looked at it instead through the lens of my intergeneration history with residential schools, where my ancestor Granny Annie was one of the first residents of the infamous St Mary's, taken there at the age of three, I see it differently. I stand tall and I say thank you, but it is not charity that I need. It is what was once ours that I need, choice, agency and self-determination. I want to live by the old ways in harmony with nature, under the care of the Creator and by the laws of my traditions. It's not about handouts, rather in today's world it's about removing antiquated legislation that binds people in unnatural shapes, and it's about being treated as equals, and not lesser beings. It's about walking beside me, not ahead of me clearing a path, it's about making paths, side by side, together.

Again, sometimes these things can seem seem far out of reach.

Like the berries I saw from a distance, sometimes that's what Reconciliation feels like. Something far away, unreachable through a great void. A word floating there, but without much meaning unless it is put into action, something we can hang on to, something we can do, something we can touch. And sadly, sometimes the action put in place to reach the goal is not what's needed. It seems to depend on whose lens you're looking through.

I wonder if anybody sat beside Lazarus and asked him what he needed? What would he have said? 

Maybe it would have been a conversation about doing away with the poor bench and finding a way to think of things differently, about finding a common ground. Maybe it would have been a discussion about fairness, equal opportunity or civil rights.

In her commentary on Luke 16, Kendra Mohn the pastor at Trinity Lutheran in Fort Worth, Texas says, "It is common to equate wealth with virtue, whether today or in the ancient world. Good people who work hard can expect to be rewarded with means; likewise, people with means are seen as good (smart, hardworking, righteous) because they were able to acquire wealth. In the ancient world, concepts like wealth, virtue, and masculinity worked together and reinforced one another to solidify elite status.

But this notion that rich is the good man is directly challenged by Jesus’ parable. The text does not say if the rich man’s cruelty toward Lazarus is intentional/ It was part of the role of the wealthy in the ancient world to provide alms for the poor in their community. Even if it was largely self-serving, patronage was an expected means for some of the poor to be fed while the wealthy reinforced their status with virtuous action.

Our responsibilities to one another in this life are real. Alleviating the suffering of our neighbors is a clear calling for those who wish to follow Jesus and while fear may not be a good motivator, compassion and gratitude can be."

If we have been given everything, and all has been done, how are we meant to interpret this parable in modernity then? Well, It doesn't go unnoticed that Lazarus in the Hebrew means God has helped, and as Isaiah 43-1 reads:

But now this is what the LORD says, the one who created you, Jacob, the one who formed you, Israel: "Do not be afraid, because I've redeemed you. I've called you by name; you are mine.

And I think this is the clincher, Jesus calls Lazarus by name.

For us now, the greatest act of kindness and compassion we can show is to listen to the voice of oppression, to meet people where they are. Through a different lens we can focus on historically silenced voices and instead of offering what we think Lazarus needs, we can instead ask him what he needs.

Deacon Peggy preached a few weeks ago about praying across the divide, I think the same goes for this instance, and praying across the void. Please join me in my constant prayer of Reconciliation, where I ask our Creator God, to help us see through their lens, to help us interpret the Bible in modern ways, to bring us to an equal plain, where we are all simply the Children of God.

Those high blackberries will eventually just fall into my bucket. I have faith in that.

Amen.