Welcoming Grace, Words of Love for All. Kurt Jacobson
When someone we do not know, or do not share a close or intimate relationship with, gets inside that space bubble, we pull back or withdraw.
The experts in this idea of territory theory, go so far as to say this is the reason birds sing, insects buzz and swarm, and dogs bark and bite. In humans, the territorial theory can explain everything from why some people seem to spend all their “free time” taking care of their yard, to the on-going nature of ethnic wars.
Because we are territorial people, we draw lines. Mostly, we like to draw lines around things, people and property, and declare everything inside that line as “mine” or “ours.” Remember drawing the lines on the back seat of the station wagon, showing your brother or sister where that line was, just exactly what space was yours, and warning them of the dangers of crossing that line?
Robert Frost, in one of his poems, stated that, “good fences make good neighbors.” Makes me think of Sun City, Arizona, and some other places that I’ve been in which every yard is entombed by a ten-foot-high concrete wall. The message I get when I see this is, “Stay away, this is my property - do not enter without permission.”
In our own countryside, “No Trespass” signs warn us not to step over the line.
We’re very good at drawing lines to keep our territories. The lines we draw around what is “ours,” and what is others’, varies from situation to situation.
•When people trespass against us by touching a “soft spot” where we are vulnerable to offense, even if the intrusion is accidental or ignorant or a poor attempt at humor, we begin to defend “our space.”
•When the neighbor’s dog does something inside the boundary of our lawn, we know exactly where the point of trespass lies, “our yard.”
•When a wave of robberies begins to haunt our side of town, our territorial line suddenly expands to include “our neighborhood.”
•When we resent the intrusion by the federal government into our regional needs or wants, our territory takes on the even larger boundaries of “our state.”
•When federal spending is out of control, and costs of governmental assistance to immigrants increase, we suddenly want to keep foreign people out and protect “our nation.”
•When the ozone layer starts to fizzle away from CFC’s, and our oceans start smelling like backed-up septic tanks, we suddenly feel the need to defend “our planet.”
Do you see how it is that we draw lines so broadly and wide that they encompass the whole earth? When threatened or denied security or desires, we draw lines to protect ourselves.
But notice how the line gets so broad and wide that it becomes a circle. From drawing lines around our homes, neighborhood, state, nation and planet, we’ve drawn a circle! Every living creature is “inside” the circle, the boundary we’ve drawn!
This is the kind of line, an eternal, never-ending line resulting in a circle, that Jesus wanted to call attention to in the Bible story you heard a few minutes ago. The rich man, during his life on earth, had drawn lines very tightly around himself and his possessions. The poor man, named Lazarus, lived in misery and hunger just outside the lines of the rich man.
When the rich man died, he reached a new territory. The Bible calls it “Hades,” and suddenly this man who had lived the good life was now on the wrong side of the line.
The poor man, on the other hand, died and was carried away by angels to be with Abraham and enjoy the good life on the right side of the line that he had not experienced on earth. It was a complete reversal of fortune for each man.
The rich man, only after he found himself on the wrong side of the line, realized his error while on earth. He finally realized that he should have reached out to the poor man when he had time. But he did not do so, and by his failure to act, built a huge gap, a big fat line between himself and the poor man.
As the rich man discovers his error, he begs Father Abraham to enact a rescue operation and send the poor man to bring him some relief!
Imagine his gall, we might think. This rich guy didn’t care a speck about the poor man when he was suffering, and now this rich guy wants some mercy and relief?
Father Abraham declares that it’s too late for the rich man. In so many words, Abraham tells the rich man, “You drew the line long ago and you refused to broaden your line, to open up your territory to help the poor right around you. The gap you created is too large to be crossed.”
The rich man isn’t completely dissuaded yet. So he tries again, this time for the benefit of his five brothers still on earth.
“Father Abraham, if the gap is so large that I cannot be saved, then at least send the poor man back from the dead so that he can warn my five brothers, that they be spared my fate.” Again, the answer is “no.”
Abraham says, “They have been taught what the Bible has to say and they should listen. But if they do not listen, then they surely won’t be convinced if someone comes back from the dead.”
End of story.
In my mind, I try to imagine what came next. I want the story to continue. I want to hear the rest of the dialogue. Did the brothers ever get the message and broaden their lines? We aren’t told. For that is the question the story leaves for us to answer. And to answer the question, we need to look at the lines we’ve drawn in our lives.
Think about it for a moment. What lines have you drawn? Are you so busy protecting yourself that you fail to see and act for the poor at your doorstep?
Is your life increasingly subdivided by lines? What lines keep you from interacting with the Hmong in our community or the poor, or the homeless? And I wonder what we are teaching our children about lines?
Where are we drawing the lines as we teach children to have compassion for and act on behalf of people in need?
Even in the church, there are lines and we all draw them. There are lines between old and young, married and single, long-time members and newer, those with wealth and those with modest means.
This congregation is about to cross a big, fat line next Sunday. One week from tonight for the first time, we’ll be welcoming homeless families into our building for a week-long stay.
As a host congregation in the new Interfaith Hospitality Network, we’ll be housing homeless families for five one-week stays a year. This new ministry will cross lines for many of us.
We have a stigma attached to the homeless. We consider homeless people to be lazy or poor decision makers, drug-users, alcoholics. If this is your opinion, I urge you especially, to get involved by being a part of Trinity’s hospitality to homeless families - and bring your children too.
By our participation in the hospitality network, we’re eliminating the lines, bridging the gap. I think that’s what Jesus wants us to do. Get rid of the lines, and instead draw a big, expansive circle.
The only way for us to escape from these lines, wherever they may be in our lives, is to draw together all the lines and create the eternal line, the circle.
That circle is made by Jesus Christ. Jesus was always crossing lines, and every time he did so, he upset people to the point of being put to death. But that didn’t stop him, because his mission was to eliminate the lines and draw a circle.
Jesus Christ draws a circle around all people. Jesus draws circles of love, circles of hope, circles of peace, and circles of hospitality.
Back to the Bible story for a moment. I don’t want you to leave this morning despairing for the rich man. I want you to learn from his mistake.
The rich man in his dire straits was a man loved by God. He was never outside the circle of God’s love. However, the rich man just didn’t seem to get it. Maybe he was dense or hard-headed. I think he was just plain self-absorbed. He didn’t follow God’s ways when he had the opportunity. He was so caught up in his own good life.
God did try to teach