Day 4: Kinship

In our first few sessions, we’ve covered loving others by meeting practical needs, serving those around us in the ordinary environments of our everyday life, often in hiddenness, and being both intentional and interruptible. And finally, we come to the destination at the end of service in the way of Jesus: kinship.

And that brings us to Matthew 20v25: “Jesus called them together and said, ‘You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave — just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.’" (Matthew 20v25–28, NIV)

Jesus claims to be the King of a new Kingdom, only authority in his Kingdom is upside down according to the social order of the world. Jesus has structured his Kingdom in a way that very intentionally erases divisions by bringing the marginalized to the center, so those at the center come into fellowship with the marginalized.

The very thing Jesus named to the disciples in Matthew Chapter 20, he taught them in one of his more cryptic and misunderstood parables. Turn with me in your Bibles to Luke 16, picking up in verse 19: “There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores and longing to eat what fell from the rich man’s table ...” (Luke 16v19-21, NIV)

The parable skips ahead to the apparent death of both men. The poor man Lazarus is at the side of Abraham. The rich man is separated by a great chasm, but can see the two of them together. He calls out to Abraham:

Verse 27 — “... I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my family, for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.” … He said to him, “If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.” (Luke 16v27-28, 31, NIV)

What a strange, unsettling story. What does it mean?

At first glance, the most obvious conclusion is that the Rich Man has been condemned because he did not serve. He didn’t care for the needs of the poor leper.

But push past the first glance. Look a little closer.

According to the interpretation of scholars Leonard Sweet and David Fitch, The Rich Man, dressed in the purple of royalty, living in luxury, allows Lazarus, a houseless leper, to share in the “crumbs from his table” he longed for. Meaning he willingly allows Lazarus to live at his front gate and eat his excess food.

This Rich Man was merciful enough to associate himself with Lazarus. How many of us have a homeless, terminally ill patient living on our porch? This man served the needs of the poor.

So there must be something going on here beyond a lack of practical service. The key that unlocks the story is in the numbers: “Send Lazarus to warn my five brothers …” The Rich Man is urgently concerned for his people, his siblings, on a deeper level than he’s ever been concerned for the man he’s now trying to use as a messenger. Dr. Leonard Sweet concludes: The rich man is condemned because he thought he had five brothers, when God actually gave him six.

The rich man didn't lack mercy. He alleviated Lazarus' suffering. He lacked relationship. He kept Lazarus in a separate space for a particular project.

Why? Because isolated acts of service are easier than welcoming someone all the way in, so they can be fully redeemed.

Practical service to the poor is the first step — that’s where we have to start! But we must never confuse the first step with the destination. The destination is not “service-provider” and “service-recipient." It’s “brother” and “sister."

Kinship is what distinguishes Jesus' vision of service. Kinship means people who are not biologically family are more than merely tolerated or even cared for, but embraced wholly and entirely as brothers and sisters. Kinship cannot happen from a safe distance. It’s inconvenient and costly and involves you in a relationship.

That’s who He’s made us to one another.

Why do we serve in pursuit of kinship? Not because it churns out redemption stories in a predictable way along a predictable timeline. But because every individual we serve is worth it, and to spend ourselves on others, to enter into their suffering, that is the great reward — the life Jesus won for us.