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Hell

Everything you wanted to know about Hell

Everything You Wanted to Know About Heaven

Everything You Wanted to Know About Hell

September 17, 2006

Text: Luke 16:19-31

"There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day.  20 And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores,  21 who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man's table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores.  22 The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried.  23 In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side.  24 He called out, 'Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.'  25 But Abraham said, 'Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony.  26 Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.'  27 He said, 'Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father's house —   28 for I have five brothers — that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.'  29 Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.'  30 He said, 'No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.'  31 He said to him, 'If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.'"

NRSV 

      For the next couple of Sundays, we’re going to be dealing with some perpetually interesting topics: the Biblical views on heaven and hell.

      We’ll go through the bad place, first.

      “Hell.” Actually, the concept of hell in the Bible changed through the centuries. In the Old Testament, it was known as “Sheol,” the place of the “underworld.” There was no concept of punishment there—it was simply a place where spirits of the departed went. It was in the New Testament that the understanding developed of Sheol being a place of punishment for sin.

      Ever since, “hell” has been seen and used in different ways.

      It’s been the subject of humor.

      This once appeared in a bulletin:

At the evening service tonight, the sermon topic will be "What Is Hell?" Come early and listen to our choir practice.

      A man went to Florida on a business trip. His wife was to join him the next day. He tapped out an e-mail to her when he arrived, but misspelled his wife’s e-mail address. His message was accidentally sent to the elderly widow of a preacher, who had died a couple of days before.

      When the widow received the e-mail, she fainted.

      It said:

Dearest Wife,

Just got checked in. Everything prepared for your arrival tomorrow.

PS--Sure is hot down here.

      Hell has also been the subject of threats. Do good, or else. Shape up, or you’ll be shipped out. Turn, or burn.

      And this isn’t necessarily bad. Margaret Ceconi was an executive at Enron. She reflected on her 12 years at a Catholic school, and said this:

"[My faith] was based on fear, that if we did bad things, we'd get caught and burn in hell. But I'll tell you, it made us think about things with the end in mind. The problem with Enron was that no one was afraid of getting punished, even if they ever got caught."

      Mostly for me, though, hell has been the subject of puzzlement.

      Jesus talked about the love of God being like a parent yearning for a son or daughter who’s run away. No matter how bad the kid acted, the parent yearns for the child, never giving up hope.

      And yet Jesus also talked about people who ignore God being thrown into the “outer darkness” [Matt. 8:12] or into a “furnace of fire” [Matt. 13:42] where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

      So, what do you make of that? How do you reconcile a loving God with a blazing furnace?

      I don’t know if it’s possible. We might just have to leave it in God’s capable hands. But Jesus once told a fascinating, intriguing story that deals with it. As a matter of fact, this story comes just one chapter after the story of the Prodigal Son, talking about God’s unending love. My sermon today is a simple reflecting on this story you now hear.

      Please rise for the Gospel.

[scripture is read—sit—pray]

      That rich man was VERY rich. If you listened carefully, you’ll remember that he had a “gate.” That means he had a walled estate, not just a big house. He had the best food every day, prepared by the best chefs. He ate richly, and the scraps from his table he threw away—without even thinking about the man at the gate who was starving.

      He’s a beggar named “Lazarus,” the only person Jesus names in any of his parables. His name literally means, “God helps.”

      God had better help, because the rich man wasn’t going to. He totally ignored this beggar—who was disgusting—unable to help himself, covered with sores, tormented by dogs who would lick those sores.

      “Why SHOULD I help him?” he might have thought. “The poor have only themselves to blame. The thing about helping others is for those soft-hearted, liberal, goody-two-shoes. Doesn’t teach responsibility to give handouts, if you ask me. Let them work for a living, like I do. I work hard for my money, and they should, too!”

      The rich man didn’t like seeing Lazarus. Interrupted his day. If it were possible to get a restraining order to keep the guy away from the gate, he would have done so.

      The beggar was a downer.

      The beggar was a distraction.

      He didn’t know that the beggar was his best chance for salvation.

      The beggar was God’s way of saying to him, “Remember what’s important! You will love your neighbor as yourself! That’s my commandment—that’s my will. Do this, and you’ll live. Lazarus is my gift to you. Bathe him, heal him, clothe him, feed him. And in the process, you’ll discover what really matters. You’ll discover life like it was meant to be! Lazarus IS my gift to you!”

      But the rich man waited too late to recognize the gift.

      Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, it all changes. The rich man dies. And  since he didn’t know what life was all about in this world, he discovers what hell is all about in the next.

      You know what hell is all about?

      William Sloan Coffin, the preacher at Riverside church in NY, described it best. He was reflecting on Michelangelo’s painting of the Last Judgment. There is this haunting picture of one man, with a hand over his face as demons are dragging him down.

      Looking at that picture, Coffin said,

“It's a familiar story, isn't it? Rarely do we see the truth that stares us in the face until it HITS us in the face. A crisis is seldom a crisis until it is validated by disaster. Michelangelo was right: Hell is truth seen too late.”

--William Sloane Coffin

      Hell is truth seen too late.

      Truth is that you live when you obey God, not ignore God.

      Truth is that you live when you follow God before you follow your desires.

      Truth is that you respect the “should’s” God gives you:

      “I SHOULD volunteer at Centenary homeless program.”

      “I SHOULD make a difference in the lives of kids in my community or church.”

      “I SHOULD listen to the story of the homeless woman in pink I see in this community.”

      “I SHOULD help tutor the Bosnian or the Latino down the street.”

      “I SHOULD open my gate to the beggar.”

      BUT…that’s really a drag. I don’t have any latex gloves to put on, to keep his germs off me. And the beggar will track mud on my carpet, stain my chair, and smell bad at my table. I’ll keep him at the front gate…and I’ll go out the back door, so I don’t have to be reminded of him.

      And God says to the rich man—and to any of us who think we can ignore God’s will and get away with it: God says, “You fool. Today your soul is required of you, and what do you have to show for it?”

      There was a lonely, tormented beggar at your gate. The beggar who was actually the Christ, wanting to come in, but you refused.

      Hell IS truth seen too late.

      Some of the most heartbreaking words found in the Bible come next.

      The rich man is in torment. Lazarus is at the banquet table beside Abraham.

      And the man who once wore Italian silk, ate prime rib, and drank the finest Cabernet—he cries out,

'Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.' 

      You can’t ignore what Christ asks you to do without being in agony, either today or tomorrow.

      And tomorrow has arrived for the rich man. It’s now too late.

“Child,” Abraham says, “between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.”

      You have put yourself beyond my reach, God is saying. I tried and tried to get your attention, but you ignored me. Now, it’s too late.

      “TOO LATE! TOO LATE! It can’t be too late!” he cries out, and the flame burns even deeper. His panic is uncontrollable. He knows he IS lost, with no way out. Then he remembers the people he loved—the only people he loved, the few people he loved:

      “Let Lazarus go to my brothers to tell them not to do what I have done, not to live in ignorance.”

Abraham responds,

“They have Moses and the prophets. They already know what they should do.”

“No, that’s not enough. Someone from the dead will convince them.” 

Abraham’s response is telling:  

If they don’t believe what they know already is true—if they don’t believe Moses and the prophets—they will not believe someone rising from the dead.”

      When you’re so caught up in maintaining your comfortable lifestyle, you won’t recognize God coming to you—whether it’s in a beggar-Lazarus, or even in a resurrected-Lazarus.

      So…

      What do we make of this story?

      As I read it over and over this week, something just didn’t feel right.

      Then, suddenly, it struck me. It was staring at me from the page. It’s the way Abraham began his reply to the rich man. He began it with,

      “CHILD.”

      Remember?

      “CHILD, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed.”

      Child. A term of affection. Not—“You foolish, selfish man.” But rather “my child,” my beloved boy.

      It’s as if Abraham is torn up, choking out his reply to Lazarus. It’s as if he’s lamenting the fact that there’s this great chasm between heaven and hell that can’t be crossed, no matter how much he’d like to cross it.

      CHILD.

      You know, when you think about it, Jesus told this story before he went to the cross. He told it before Easter morning.

      I wonder if Jesus was able to do that which Abraham couldn’t—reach even into the depths of hell with the love that could touch the tongue of the one who had lived as foolishly as the rich man.

      We’ll never know for sure, of course.

      But it does make you wonder, doesn’t it?