CMLC 2025-09-28 Sermon

Howdy We we love comfort I Think that's fair

to say to be honest. I think it's fair to say

we love comfort in our lives the comfort of a

recliner after a long day That the remote right

there next to you because you don't want to have

to reach over and heaven forbid you had to get

up binge watching the favorite show, the favorite

show of the week, because that has to change

every week, of course. And the comfort of knowing

maybe it's a day you don't have to rush anywhere

and you don't really have to do anything particular.

Comfort. It's something that we are so grateful

to have, especially in our country, especially

in our world, especially in this modern age.

But sometimes comfort can be more than just relaxing.

Sometimes comfort can weaken us. Sometimes comfort

can undermine what makes us strong. Do y 'all

remember that movie WALL -E? The little bitty

robot, you know, WALL -E. Yeah, and he was like,

he would go around and he was rolling around

the whole earth, right? And he was on a planet,

he was on the earth at a time later on when...

We had just polluted it way too much. It was

covered in garbage. And he would go around and

organize all the garbage into little stacks and

try to tidy up the whole world being polluted

and everything. But one day, he discovered a

tiny little plant. And this tiny plant he saw,

he picked it up, and he was giving it to his

little robot crush, Eve. And he went up, and

when she saw it though, she ran away. And what

ends up happening is they're trying to get it

to the spaceship that has all of the human beings,

because if they could get it there, then it would

be time to return to Earth and fix the whole

Earth all over again. But that's the thing about

this, though, is that the ship was meant to be

perfectly comfortable, perfectly comfortable

for everyone, taking care of every comfort imaginable,

but the ship also did not want to let anybody

go. See, the comfort itself, let's not worry

about the earth, and it's a little too dirty.

Let's go just take care of all of your comforts.

The comfort had become all -consuming, and everything

resisted the letting go of that comfort and returning

home to restore it. Imagine all the humans that

were floating in their chairs on their screens,

always in front of them, with messages that determined

everything they said and did, their bodies no

longer able to support themselves because their

bones had shrunk too much. They were safe, entertained,

and oblivious, but the earth cried out beneath

them. I'm sure that we have no idea what that

is like. Now picture us and maybe we aren't floating

in chairs, but spiritually and morally We can

be just as lazy we scroll we watch we tweet we

plan and the cries that are at our gates The

issues that may be facing our world we barely

notice unless it's right there in the screen

in front of us Comfort erodes our moral and spiritual

backbone. We may not literally be floating But

spiritual and moral reclining can feel just like

this. Glued to comfort screens, routines, habits,

numb to what's around us and only paying attention

to what's put in front of us. And then we hear

the voice of Amos. Amos 6. That progress without

grief lacks compassion. Amos begins... Woe to

those who are at ease in Zion picture the scene

Zion's leaders the leaders of Israel they're

reclining on ivory beds Sipping wine from their

bowls. There's so much of it. They're humming

along as the harpist is playing Yeah, that's

not how a harp sounds but the candles flicker

Off the polished walls, the laughter rises over

platters of roasted lamb, honeyed bread, and

probably some dad jokes. They see themselves

as refined, cultured, successful progress in

motion because they have escaped the everyday

problems of the other Israelites. But outside

the hall, it's different. Families scavenge for

scraps, soldiers, guard, borders that are crumbling

all around them, letting anybody in, widows beg

in the streets, smoke drifts from broken homes,

and Amos says, you are not grieved over the ruin

of Joseph. In other words, you are not hurting

over your brothers and sisters as they suffer.

These elite though, they're real people. They're

not just these cartoon villains twiddling their

mustache. They're humans lulled by comfort. They

told themselves, we're fine. Things will work

themselves out. We're on the right side of history.

We're benefiting from it all. But their sophistication

dulled their grief for their neighbor's ruin.

But soon, God would allow Assyria to come along.

and take these very elites off into exile and

destroy their kingdom. Today, we fall into the

same trap. We celebrate growth and culture and

achievement, but we miss the single mom struggling

on our block. We post online about justice, but

we don't take the time to just sit down, talk

and eat with people who are actually hurting,

mentoring the youth and caring for our neighbor.

We binge the latest creative work, but we don't

grieve the brokenness that still exists on this

earth. Think of a corporate party celebrating

record profits while factories close in the nearby

town. Church committee debating pews while the

food pantry sits empty. A young professional

in a cafe, headphones in, sipping the Starbucks,

scrolling the latest headlines while their very

neighbors are wrestling with bills. No pumpkin

spice latte can overcome. Amos convicts us of

a comfort that says, I'm right, I'm enlightened,

and I don't need to change because I have everything

taken care of. It's not just one group or another,

it's a mirror for all of us, frankly. Comfort

in progress, culture, sophistication, it can

blind any of us. Amos speaks to people who pride

themselves on being refined and cultured, progressive,

lovers of music, art, and luxury, but their comfort

lets them ignore the collapse of actual justice

around them. Their curse is being self -satisfied,

refined. Things will work out as long as people

are deserving. The blind spot, though, is that

cultural... or moral progress doesn't excuse

us from being indifferent to the suffering of

the poor. And then, centuries later, we hear

Jesus speaking. Because, of course, the people

of Israel, they still haven't learned the lesson

yet. Luke 16, security without compassion, lacks

vision. There's a rich man, he's respectable,

established. He wears purple and the linen. Every

day he feasts roasted meat, platters of fruit

and bread, I'm sure some filet mignon and some

sort of appetizer on the side. Servants, they

shuffle in and out, the clinking of cups marking

the rhythm of his secure abundant life. Well

done, well done. He likely prays. He probably

gives to the local synagogue. He manages his

estate. Everything about him says, I am a fine

upstanding man. I'm secure. All is right in my

world. And at his gate lies Lazarus. Lazarus'

body is crusted with sores. Ew. Ew. Hunger. gnawing

at him, dogs licking his wounds. That's not a

good way to have a dog licking. He stretches

his hand towards scraps that never come, the

smell of sickness, the itch of hunger, the ache

of longing, it's all right there at the threshold

of this other man's abundance. But here's what's

chilling. Rich man never hurt Lazarus. You cannot.

point at the rich man and say anything he ever

actually did. He never cursed him. He never hurt

him. He just ignored him. Every day he stepped

over Lazarus on the way to the synagogue. He

stepped over Lazarus on the way to business.

He stepped over Lazarus on the way back to dinner.

Man, it'd be nice if I didn't have to see Lazarus

there. Just hopefully move along. And he told

himself, I'm fine. Life is good, or maybe he

didn't even tell himself anything at all. He

was completely unmoved. The rich man in Jesus'

story, he's not condemned for robbing or oppressing

anyone. He's condemned for ignoring. The curse

of self -sufficiency and self -righteousness,

I have what I need, God must be blessing me,

that's what matters, and maybe I deserve it.

but Jesus unmasks the blindness. Tradition, morality,

even generosity can all become excuses if they

let us step past our neighbor without compassion.

Hard work, even piety, even doing community service

doesn't excuse when we're indifferent to the

suffering that's at our doorstep. You can still

be doing good things and struggle with what's

in your heart. And Jesus tells us what happened

next. The roles are reversed. Isn't it funny

how just whenever people are getting exactly

what they wanted, somehow the roles always reverse?

Lazarus is carried to Abraham's side, but the

rich man is tormented. He pleads for relief.

And Abraham says, Between us, there's a great

chasm that's been fixed. I can't get to you.

That's it. Game over. Final. Security without

compassion has eternal consequences. Now, yeah,

we can be pointing the finger and I'm sure people

have in their mind which person that they are

thinking about as, oh yeah, that person's pretty

bad at this. It's a subtle trap though. The rich

man, he's not a monster. He could very well be

a very devout man. He probably is respectable.

He's certainly secure. He's very successful in

many measures of the sense. And yet that very

security numbed him to what was right outside

his doorstep. And let's be honest, I mean, we

have plenty of justification for ignoring the

person at the stoplight with the cardboard sign.

We don't know their story. We may assume somebody

else is probably able to help. But what about

the elderly neighbor whose lights are still dark

night after night? Because maybe they can't pay

the bill and we're just hoping that we can assume

someone else is helping them out Security stability

routine we get blind Just as surely as wealth

and luxury But here's what presses on us. We

say people should take responsibility. Don't

we say that a lot? People should take responsibility.

But they don't stop to help them bear their load.

Maybe that person was trained in a job that doesn't

exist anymore. Or maybe they never had the money

to pay for the job training in the first place.

Let's be honest. Most training and apprenticeships

are expensive to get started. A friend of mine

is actually starting up a year -long internship

and he has to pay to do it. We say the world

needs stability. but we close our eyes to unstable

lives around us. We can see many people are suffering

from warfare and poverty, but we'd rather there

be stability by just getting them to leave us

alone. We tell ourselves, my morality is the

reason why I'm secure, while Lazarus lies at

the gate for reasons we don't understand. Does

anybody know why he's there? No. No, we don't.

But we do know that there are many immoral people

living very easy lives. Not about pointing fingers,

but let's be honest, many of us, we love our

stability, security, comfort that blinds us just

as surely as anything else. And then Amos and

Jesus intersect. See, the thing about different

viewpoints, it's the same problems. See, Amos...

He's convicting the people who are comfortable

in being right all the time. Oof, man, they think

that they've got it all figured out all the time.

So many of us see ourselves as progressing in

the world, living beautiful lives because we're

not foolish like those poor people in the olden

ways of living. But Jesus convicts those who

are comfortable in their righteousness or their

self -righteousness. See, so many people have

decided that their morality, even their Christian

behavior, has allowed them to be blessed. Clearly,

God's blessing me. I'm a good Christian. Therefore,

I'm immune to having to examine myself. And others,

they're not blessed because somehow they're not

good enough and it's probably their fault. Different

viewpoints but the same curse. When we are comfortable,

we become blind. We miss out on the ways in which

God wants to bless us by moving us to bless others.

The comfort of our mindset, it undermines God

speaking to us. It blinds us to grief, it blinds

us to compassion, and frankly, it blinds us to

God. All those humans floating around on their

little chairs in the spaceship, the comfort literally

weakens, but it also spiritually, morally, emotionally,

makes us less. Until... We discover that we can't

even stand for anything that's good and true

anymore. We're so comfortable with things that

if something good and true comes along to convict

us, we're going to shut it out as best we can.

We're willing to let others put a message in

front of us that makes us feel good about our

lazy minds. Tell me what I want to hear, and

we don't even question it. But imagine someone

choosing to stand, reaching out to the neighbor,

in need, making a meal, or even just listening.

Not to your buddy, but to someone who can never

give you anything in return. See, comfort no

longer rules in this situation. It's about compassion

and courage to take the weight. But imagine that

person even being willing to die for them. Christ

had every right to stay comfortable. What do

you think it was like in heaven? Glory, worship,

security. When you are eternal and dwelling in

heaven, you're probably not worried about pimples

or social security or whether or not there's

a riptide at the beach on your vacation. But

he didn't cling to it. He left it. He humbled

himself, became one of us, and entered our ruin.

He came to the earth. noticing our sores and

bearing our griefs, carrying our sins to the

cross. He gave up comfort so we could share His

eternal comfort. He gave up His right in the

world's eyes so we could be made righteous in

God's sight. But Jesus ends this parable with

the haunting truth. You may have missed it. It's

at the very end. If they do not listen to Moses

and the prophets, they will not be convinced

even if someone rises from the dead. Strange.

What's he saying? Unless we're willing to be

convicted of our own need to repent, we can stand

face to face with a crucified and risen Jesus

and still miss Him. If I look at my own morality

and I conclude, you know what, I'm good enough,

I'm righteous. I'm the kind of person that God

is pleased with and I'm the one he sent Jesus

for. Then the whole message of Jesus actually

becomes useless. The Gospel, it's not about reinforcing

my goodness or yours. It's about exposing our

desperate need for forgiveness every day. And

if I won't let the Spirit convict me, then even

resurrection itself wouldn't shake me awake.

But notice how subtle the danger is. We talk

about sin and grace. We use the words all the

time. And we even, we nod along to, yes, we're

all broken people, yes, yes, uh -huh, yeah, absolutely.

And then we still end up standing on our moral

high ground in front of other people. We end

up trying to argue people into faith by proving

we're right, they're wrong, and the world, frankly,

they can see right through us. They know it.

even when we don't want to acknowledge it. They

can sense when our words about, oh, well, we're

sinners. It's just surface level. We're trying

to sound humble even at the times when underneath

we're not convicted, we're unmoved, we're unwilling

to change. Because without the Spirit of God

pressing the truth into us, our repentance, it's

just a performance. Our morality is just another

comfort that we sometimes hide behind. I appreciate

how Tullian Chavijian, don't ask me to spell

it, puts it. The church is not a factory producing

better people. It's a recovery place announcing

that in Christ, the sick are healed and the guilty

are pardoned. And if you know anything about

Tullian Chavijian, he has needed grace more than

many of us. He reminds us the mission of the

church is not to build a flawless kingdom that

others are going to envy. It's to point to Christ

by first admitting how much we need Him ourselves.

The invitation we extend to the world is not,

look how righteous we are, don't you want to

join us? It's come with us because we're broken

too, and Jesus is the one who will make us whole.

The shock of the gospel is that the very thing

that changes the world is not our morality, but

our willingness to admit our desperate need.

for grace. So, do we realize how uncomfortable

this is to hear? Yeah. I'm paid to make y 'all

feel uncomfortable, just letting you know. But

it's also the only way for us to shift ourselves

to compassion. When we realize that we need it

just as much as the sinners around us. Have you

chosen ease over compassion? Have you been so

certain you were right that you stopped listening?

Have you stepped over the people lying at your

gate? What ruins are you ignoring because of

the progress or security that looks so good?

Where has the comfort become your curse? So as

we close, what if we as a church refused to let

comfort blind us? What if we, instead of being

known for the ease, We try to live for we're

known for our compassion and what if instead

of clinging to progress or security we come to

Christ who makes us new because then We'd become

a signpost for eternity Then people would live

in the light of forever The community would be

awake Because comfort is a gift when it leads

to gratitude, but it's a curse When it takes

us away from compassion and God So may we not

let comfort? Tell us that we're just fine. May

Christ open our eyes and may we live now in the

light of eternity. Thanks be to God.