Note the story’s stark contrasts. The rich man of the story is so wealthy that he dresses in clothing usually worn only by royalty. He has everything. Lazarus is so desperately poor, on the other hand, that he’s willing to share the table scraps thrown to the rich man’s dogs. The dogs, however, treat him as one of their own, even licking his sores. Then the beggar dies and goes to heaven ("Abraham’s side"), where, it seems, he experiences bliss. The rich man dies and ends up in hell, where he’s tormented.

Not only does Jesus employ contrasts, He also uses hyperbole (exaggeration). In this highly stylized story, heaven and hell are so physically close that the respective occupants can see what’s going on in each other’s realm. Moreover, heaven and hell are within talking distance—suggesting that the specific details of this fanciful tale aren’t to be taken literally.

Understandably, the tormented rich man doesn’t relish his lot. So he pleads for a little relief—even a drop of water to cool his parched tongue (as if a single drop could have any significant effect). No luck, though.

Abraham reminds the rich man that, ironically, he had it made throughout his lifetime—but now is in agony. By contrast, Lazarus had a life of agony—but now has it made.

Abraham further reminds the rich man that his destiny is fixed. He made his bed, so now he can lie in it. The gulf between heaven and hell can’t be traversed. You ultimately stay where your choices take you.

The rich man, accepting the inescapability of the consequences of his choices, asks for Abraham to send Lazarus back from heaven to tell his five brothers about life’s—and death’s—ultimate realities so they can avoid the agony of hell that he’s experiencing. "They already have the teachings of Moses and the prophets, that should be good enough," Abraham says.

"True," the rich man replies, "but it would be far more impressive if someone were to come back from the dead to warn them."

"You know what?" Abraham replies, "if your brothers ignore Moses and the other prophets God has sent, they’re wouldn’t pay any attention even if someone were to rise from the dead." End of parable.

And what does it mean? Probably a lot of things. I would suggest that Jesus isn’t affirming a literal hell. Rather, He’s telling us that we don’t need dramatic miracles in order to have faith. There’s plenty of evidence already. In fact, if we haven’t developed faith on the basis of what we see revealed of God already, chances are we’re not going to suddenly get on the bandwagon just because God does something really impressive.

In the case of Jesus, He rose from the dead. That’s about as dramatic as miracles get. But did it didn’t win over many skeptics then. And, unfortunately, things haven’t changed all that much in the intervening years.

While relatively small numbers reside in tents at the campmeeting conducted each year on the campus of Forest Lake Academy here in Orlando (in part, because it gets a wee bit hot under the canvas), large numbers attend the event. Notable speakers are brought in for the occasion, and it’s a high point of the year for many.

Since Orlando is blessed with good preachers, good musical talent and a large number of members, local Adventists here may not be as attracted to campmeeting as are those from remote areas. But even in Orlando, many look forward to the spiritual blessing and the chance to reconnect with friends from throughout the state.

For two reasons, we always conduct services here at Markham Woods Church–even when campmeeting is on.

First, not everyone enjoys the crowds, the steel-chair seating and the general ambience of campmeeting. For those, a quiet service in the church is preferable.

Second, Markham Woods Church’s pastors are philosophically committed to keeping the church open 52 weeks out of the year, come what may. Even when we conduct our Church Retreat, which draws away large numbers of our members, we still conduct services at 9:00 and 11:30 am.

Why? Because we never know who may turn up for church. If we have members who don’t want to go to campmeeting or to the retreat, we don’t want them to have no service to attend. And if someone suddenly decides to visit our church, we want them to find us here.

As many as half of those attending our church during campmeeting and the Church Retreat are visitors. How terrible it would be if they came to get a blessing but didn’t find anyone here and didn’t feel like driving to some other place of worship.

Certainly, our church service on these occasions (this year campmeeting is just one weekend, May 23-25) is streamlined because we know attendance will be small and the participant pool also small. At 9:00 am we have First Service as usual–except that the crowd will be diminished. At 10:10 am we offer only two collect-all children’s Sabbath School classes, no youth classes from Grade 7 or above and only one adult class (in the Sanctuary). At 11:30 am we conduct Second Service as usual.

Other than these slight variations, it’s business as usual when it comes to worship at Markham Woods during the weekends of campmeeting and the Chuch Retreat.

Those who want to go to campmeeting are encouraged to do so. Those who want to worship in their familiar surroundings are equally encouraged to do so. We hope that wherever you worship, your soul will be refreshed and your spirit uplifted.

Rumor has it that Socrates—who lived before Jesus—spoke those words. So kids have been getting a bad rap for a long time. But wait a minute.

Some people say Socrates never said that at all. On the Internet’s Literature Network Forums, I came across this post: "I've seen this quote attributed to Plato, to Socrates, to Aristotle, to Cicero, to Hesiod, to 'an old monk,' to an Assyrian cuneiform tablet, and to an ancient Egyptian papyrus. Though people have been searching for the source for fifty years, no satisfying answer has ever been produced. It's just one of those things which people need to believe." And want to believe, I might add.

So it looks like someone who lived not all that long ago said it—probably an old dude with major hostility toward kids. He then tried to hang it on Socrates. (Didn’t he realize that lying is worse than the misbehavior he was lamenting?)

Anyway, I think pretty highly of today’s kids. Let me tell you a story that partly explains why.

On our most recent Pathfinder campout, the entire club went down the Ichetucknee River on tubes or rafts. Along the way, a few kids decided to get on someone else’s raft. Others decided to swim. In fact, seven tubes or rafts were just abandoned as kids chose other forms of getting to the destination. Such blatant irresponsibility definitely upset some of us as leaders.

So that night at worship I took the unknown miscreants to task. I explained that we get the tubes from a rental company. The company obviously doesn’t want to lose its equipment. Hadn’t they thought about that before they just abandoned what they’d been entrusted with? Further, the Pathfinder Club, as the renter, was responsible to get every item back safely. Who did they think would end up paying if their tubes and rafts went missing?

In fact, I told my listeners in no uncertain terms that I would have expected fourth-graders to understand such simple concepts. So the fact that seventh-graders and above had done what they did, was disturbing. "I’m not going to try to track down who did it," I assured them. "But let me tell you, I’m really, really disappointed in your behavior."

When I was young, I would have slunk away and said nothing if I’d received a dressing down like that for something I was guilty of. But you know what? Four kids actually sought me out—even though I’d said I wasn’t going to try to find out who was guilty—and apologized. No excuses. No trying to water down their guilt. They admitted their mistake and apologized.

With kids like that around, I think the future looks pretty bright.

Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor