Village Shepherd

Our Sunday paper is so full of glossy magazine extras of various sorts, that it practically requires a wheel barrow to carry it all. I never get through all that is offered, but I do like to spend a leisurely hour or so reading some of the paper and flicking through the magazines, marvelling at the bizarre and flamboyant life-style apparently enjoyed by some people. Occasionally there are more serious articles as well and sometimes there can be quite a strange combination of articles, such as an article on diet immediately followed by several pages on chocolate cookery.

A week or two ago, one magazine section had an article by a young, upwardly mobile writer who was speculating on his discovery that he was never satisfied. He had realised that ten years ago he would have been seriously impressed if he could have foreseen where he is today, but that now that he's actually got everything he ever desired, he is far from satisfied, is envious of those who have more and is constantly striving to emulate them. This discovery was quite a revelation to him.

In another magazine section in the same paper was an account of some Hindu refugees who had nothing. They been turned out of their homeland, were persecuted by rival tribes and militia, constantly suffered from disease and early mortality because of their awful living conditions and were now persecuted by the government itself.

The contrast between the two articles was all the more obscene because it was unconscious. It apparently hadn't occurred to any of the editorial staff that the two articles, practically side by side, made for shameful reading. And although the yuppy writer was slightly self-deprecating, it didn't seem to have occurred to him to contrast himself with those who were worse off than him, only to compare himself with those who were better off.

At first, today's reading from the book of Amos seems to lament those who are wealthy simply because they are wealthy. "Alas for those who are at ease in Zion, and for those who feel secure on Mount Samaria. Alas for those who lie on beds of ivory, and lounge on their couches, and eat lambs from the flock, and calves from the stall; who sing idle songs to the sound of the harp, and like David improvise on instruments of music; who drink wine from bowls, and anoint themselves with the finest oils," warns the prophet.

But then he goes on in just one sentence to explain why they are so vulnerable to God's wrath. It's because they " are not grieved over the ruin of Joseph" These people are so comfortable in their own life-styles that they don't notice the life-styles of others who are less fortunate. Their comfort cushions them to what is going on the world around them and obscures reality from them, just as the yuppy writer was cushioned from the fate of Hindu refugees and not in the least concerned about them.

Amos was writing during the eighth century BC, during the prosperous reign of Jeroboam II (786-746 B.C.) He warned the people about dire consequences, should they continue to ignore the plight of those in poverty. He told them, "Therefore they (the idle rich) shall now be the first to go into exile, and the revelry of the loungers shall pass away."

Amos was, of course, proved right in his predictions, but he wasn't a popular figure. While they were living in a time of peace and plenty, the people had no wish to be reminded of God or to be publicly criticised in such a way. After prophesying the overthrow of the sanctuary, the fall of the royal house, and the captivity of the people, Amos was finally expelled from Israel.

In many ways, conditions in Israel at the time were similar to those in the West today. Many of us enjoy comfortable life-styles and the Protestant work ethic no longer holds the sort of sway it held in Victorian times. Many people retire early and are glad to do so, enjoying a long and leisurely life, often in the country.

God's wrath does not necessarily fall upon them. Jesus expanded on the Old Testament concept from the book of Amos in today's gospel reading of the rich man (elsewhere known as Dives) and Lazarus, the beggar at his gate. Dives' sin wasn't that he was wealthy. His sin was in failing to notice Lazarus, sitting at his gate day after day waiting for scraps of food to be flung in his direction. Even after they both died, Dives still saw Lazarus simply as a servant to be used for his (Dives) bidding. "Tell him to return to my brothers to warn them of this hell which awaits them," he said. Dives was so cushioned from poverty and the effects of poverty that he was incapable of seeing Lazarus as a real person. Long ago Lazarus had become invisible to him so that he was unconcerned about Lazarus' fate.

Some of us may be in a similar position. We may be of the opinion that those who have no work and live on the dole are lazy. We may be under the illusion that there is no real poverty in our country today. We may think that there are plenty of good jobs available – you have only to read the large jobs section in the local paper – and that if anyone is poor it's their own fault. We may despise those who are poor, especially if they spend their money on cigarettes or alcohol or drugs. And if we have any of these thoughts hidden deep inside ourselves, we may fail to notice those who need help.



It could be that our own life-styles cushion us from seeing other people as they really are and so we too fall into the trap highlighted by Jesus two thousand years ago and by Amos eight centuries earlier.

What can we do about it? We can make sure that when we enjoy life we don't do so at the expense of others. We can open our eyes and actively look for those who are poor and do something to help. If we're unable to physically help, we may be able to support others who can and do help, like the Salvation Army. We can lobby our politicians to improve the lot of the poorest in our society and across the world. And we can do all this as a response to God's great love for us. Then indeed we shall be truly wealthy.