C.S. Lewis used the image of ships moving on the ocean. We start in fleet formation, he said. On the one hand we are to be careful and cognizant of the neighboring ships so as not to bang into them as we voyage. Bashing one another on the journey damages each vessel and may even sink some. Remember that the goal is to get the whole fleet to safe harbor.

But Lewis also remarked that it is not just about avoiding bashing into one another. When eternity is the timeline, even a small turning away from God and others that seems so inconsequential in the moment sends one off on a vector that will inevitably lead to isolation and a vast distance opening up between one, one's God and other people. Perhaps, Lewis suggested, hell would be to discover that we had become more and more alone as we drifted in our ignorance, or charged off in our willfulness, only to learn we had ended up past the horizon, isolated and lost, with no way back.

The daily choices we make either open our perceptions and our heart little by little or brick up our soul like the character in Poe's story, "the Cask of the Amontillado." If we close down, shutting out God and walling ourselves off from our neighbors, we will lose not only our way and our vision, but our very life.

If we regard neither the compass of scripture, nor such maps of the journey that the church can provide, nor the hailing we hear from other faithful travelers, how can we expect to find our way across the sea of life? The ocean is vast and our boat, no matter how grand, is small by comparison.

In the story of the Rich Man and Lazarus, fine linen, good food and swaths of purple had blinded the Rich Man to the plight of his neighbor. In fact, the Rich Man couldn't even recognize Lazarus as his neighbor. And Lazarus was not very far away; he was not even down the street- he lay daily right in the man's doorway. Lazarus was hungry and ill. His sores drew the attention of the neighborhood dogs, but the Rich Man could not even see him.

Why? Because the Rich Man's attention was elsewhere - on the fine things he was enjoying, on his own wellbeing- it was all about him. His boat was off course and traveling fast to a grim horizon.

Even in this life the Rich Man could not really see Lazarus as anything other than an obstacle to step over, or as a potential servant. The attitude persisted when life itself had gone. Notice how the Rich Man didn't even address Lazarus directly. He asked Abraham to press Lazarus into service to carry water. What did Abraham do? He pointed to the gulf that the Rich Man had created between himself and others.

There was one moment of concern beyond self. When it was clear that no water would be forthcoming, the Rich Man thought of his brothers, hoped to help them avoid his fate- but he still persisted in asking Abraham to treat Lazarus like a servant. "Send him to warn them," the Rich Man asked.

"If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead." Abraham replied.

Signs of God's presence and the word of his desire for us and for our neighbors surround us. We, too, have Moses and the prophets. When we read, mark, learn and inwardly digest their counsel we find the traces of previous journeys and have forewarning of the location of the reefs that will tear out the keel of our boats. We come to know those parts of the sea to avoid because they hold storms so strong they will tear our rudders off and leave us listless and drifting. As Moses said, "I set before you life and death. Choose life!" We have Moses and the Prophets, are we reading their charts as we sail?

Who is lying in our doorway, hungry and ill in body, mind or spirit? Can we see them as something other than an obstacle? Who do we see as being in this life to shore up our wellbeing rather than as someone about whom we should care? Can we come to see them as our neighbor rather than our servant?

Perhaps we simply cannot hear the voices of Lazarus. And Abraham did not send Lazarus to the Rich Man's brothers, instead he pointed to the word of the prophets. We have the words of Moses and the Prophets, but in addition we have the witness of Resurrection. Jesus did rise from the dead as a sign of love: as a word about God and neighbor.

We have not only the charts of previous journeys on board our vessels but the master of the wind and the waves. Whether He sleeps in the stern or stands in the cockpit, Jesus- God with us- will put his hand on the wheel if we will allow it. Someone is going to captain our boat. We could gird up our loins, close our eyes, grab the wheel firmly and hope for the best. But wouldn't the living God be the better pilot?

The Rich Man had a failure of vision brought on by a life that got smaller and smaller even as he amasses more and more. He ceased to notice either God or his neighbor. How do we escape a similar fate? Let us take time to notice the gift of creation. When was the last time you sat at dawn and watched the world come to life again? Or sat all the way through a sunset? When was the last time you read from Scripture then waited to hear the echo of wisdom that God often whispers into the minds and hearts of those who do not rush off to do the next pressing thing?

Then there are those collective acts that focus and ground us: like this liturgy in which we are participating this morning. Worship shapes our lives and resets our trajectory. The Prayers of the People help us to recognize the neighbors God is sending to us. We pray for members of this congregation but also for those who serve far away in other parts of the Anglican Communion. Look on the wider church bulletin board and you'll see details of the conversations between the House of Bishops and the Anglican Communion as well as pictures of a church on a distant island.

And we do seek to see and serve Lazarus in our own day. Today is the Ministry fair. Come to Macdonald Hall and see 19 different ways to remember your neighbor and serve God. Sign up to do something you have never done before. In the stretch of new water over which you will travel you'll see aspects of God and your neighbor that were not previously visible to you, and your world will enlarge and your vision extend.

Finally, new opportunities like the Stations of the Cross, the Teen Bible Study and the Alpha Program give us more ways to open our eyes and our hearts to the presence of God, the power of the Word and the service into which God is calling us individually and collectively. We are old and young, lifelong Episcopalians and brand new Christians at Saint James. We may not all set the sails of our faith in exactly the same way. But remember the goal is to get the whole fleet to safe harbor, so we need multiple means of transport. We have an excellent pilot who volunteered 2000 years ago and is still excited about the journey. We have a variety of maps. The compass is at hand. Let us cast off the ropes that keep us tied to the dock and set sail. AMEN.+

Seven Wonders of the World