Jump Start # 3753
Luke 16:19 “Now there was a certain rich man, and he habitually dressed in purple and fine line, gaily living in splendor every day.”
His name was W. Curtis Porter. He was a preacher from the last generation. He was born in 1897 and died in 1960 at the age of 63. Porter held many debates and wrote for many of the brotherhood papers. Recently, I received one of Porter’s handwritten sermons. Written in cursive, in blue ink, though faded, “The Rich Man and Lazarus,” his sermon, is a treasure among my collections.
The last line in this sermon Porter wrote, “Bliss hereafter worth more than good things here.” We know that truth, but sometimes it is hard for us to embrace it. The fancy, expensive, exclusive and one of a kind, grabs our attention and gives us a thirst to chase after those things. It seems the younger one is, the harder this battle becomes.
The rich man had it all, it seemed. Big, gated house. Wearing purple, the garment of luxury. Eating well every day. He would have been the envy of town. People would have loved to have been in his shoes. But, with all that, the rich man didn’t really have bliss. Not, like we would think he ought to have. His joy was temporary. His happiness was built around stuff. What was missing was peace, true joy and knowing the Lord.
Consider some thoughts:
First, his wealth could not purchase health. The rich man died. Now, maybe he had doctors and poor Lazarus didn’t. Maybe the rich man had nurses to give him sips of water and wipe his brow. But, in the end, he died. His wealth, his luxury, his fine things could not keep the call of death away.
Second, his wealth could not purchase a place in paradise. He died and was in torments. He died and was in agony. In death, he became what Lazarus experienced in life, a beggar. He was a beggar with no one to help him. He was a beggar that was abandoned. He was a beggar that was hopeless and helpless. He became what Lazarus was. The suffering for Lazarus ended. For the rich man, it was just beginning. The suffering here is nothing like the suffering on the other side, just as the joys here are nothing like the joys on the other side.
Third, the wealth of the rich man could not buy more time or a second chance for him. In his pleading to Abraham, he begs for Lazarus to be sent to warn his five brothers. He never asks if he could go and warn them. He never asks if he could have another chance. He never tries to bargain or bribe his way. He knows. His fate is set. His eternity is locked. He ignored God in life and now he is ignored in death. The laughter, joys and happiness that his wealth brought him, is now submerged in tears of regret, fear and guilt. The story doesn’t end well for the rich man. Not everyone lives happily ever after.
I have a room that I call the achieves. It holds all my old stuff. My restoration collection. On the walls, much like baseball’s Cooperstown, I have nearly a dozen framed sermons from preachers of other generations. This Porter sermon will soon be among them.
I wondered how long it took for bro. Porter to write his Rich Man and Lazarus sermon? I wonder how many times he had preached it? I wonder if any changed their lives because of that sermon? Old sermons, written in love, supported by truth, preached with passion are wonderful treasures.
Curtis Porter was a very humble man. He would be amazed that someone, anyone, would want to frame one of his sermons and display it on a wall among other sermons. He likely would have just thrown the sermon away.
A labor of love. Insights from our Lord’s words. Preached with the hope that others would not follow the fate of the rich man. That’s what this sermon did.
I was a little child when Porter died. I have always heard about him and read many of his articles. Someday, when we are on the other side, I’d like to meet him. I’d like to tell him what I did with his sermon.
Roger