Sunday, October 14, 2007

Gospel Reflection 20070930

September 30, 2007


Twenty-Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time


Luke 16: 19-31
Jesus said to the Pharisees: "There was a rich man who dressed in purple garments and fine linen and dined sumptuously each day. And lying at his door was a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who would gladly have eaten his fill of the scraps that fell from the rich man’s table. Dogs even used to come and lick his sores. When the poor man died, he was carried away by angels to the bosom of Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried, and from the netherworld, where he was in torment, he raised his eyes and saw Abraham far off and Lazarus at his side. And he cried out, ´Father Abraham, have pity on me. Send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am suffering torment in these flames. ´ Abraham replied, ´My child, remember that you received what was good during your lifetime while Lazarus likewise received what was bad; but now he is comforted here, whereas you are tormented. Moreover, between us and you a great chasm is established to prevent anyone from crossing who might wish to go from our side to yours or from your side to ours. ´ He said, ´Then I beg you, father, send him to my father’s house, for I have five brothers, so that he may warn them, lest they too come to this place of torment.´ But Abraham replied, ´They have Moses and the prophets. Let them listen to them. ´ He said, ´Oh no, father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent. ´ Then Abraham said, ´If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.´"

Imagine this scene. A man dies and arrives before the Judgment Seat of God. The divine Judge goes through the Book of Life and does not find the man’s name. So He announces to the man that his place is in hell. The man protests, “But what did I do? I did nothing!” “Precisely,” replies God, “that is why you are going to hell.” That man could as well be the rich man in today’s parable.
The Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus has left Bible readers wondering why the rich man had to go to hell. We are not told he acquired his wealth by foul means. We are not told he was responsible for the poverty and misery of Lazarus. In fact we are not even told that Lazarus begged from him and he refused to help. We are not told he committed any crime or evil deed. All we are told is that he was feeding and clothing well as any other successful human being has a right to do. Why then did he go to hell?
The problem we have pinpointing the reason why the rich man went to hell has a lot to do with what we think sin is. We often think that we sin only by thought, word and deed. We forget a fourth and very important way through which we sin, namely, by omission. In the “I Confess” we say these words: “I have sinned through my own fault, in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and in what I have failed to do.” Yet how readily we forget the sin of omission. Today’s parable reminds us that the sin of omission can land someone in hell. This is what happens to the rich man.
The good news of this parable is this: If you feel like a Lazarus right now, battered by sickness, poverty and pain, forgotten by society and by those whom God has blessed in this life, continue believing and trusting in God knowing that it will be well with your soul in the end. If you see yourself as one of those blessed by God with the good things of life, open your door and see. Probably there is a Lazarus lying at your gates and you have not taken notice.

Nice Isn’t Enough The rich man in today’s Gospel is the proverbial “nice guy”. His good qualities abound. He does, after all, accept his fate meekly. He doesn’t ask to be released from hell; he only asks for a drop of water to quench his thirst. And when he can’t even get that much relief, he begs for a special messenger in the hopes of sparing his own brothers a similar fate. He at least thinks of the welfare of others. Yet, all that niceness didn’t save him from eternal punishment. Do I ever think that just being a "nice" person will get me to heaven? Might I be using my own standards to judge my worthiness, rather than using God’s standards?
Where the rich man erred was in His was a sin of omission. The rich man lost his soul, not for what he did, but for what he failed to do.
Do I try to help others grow in their faith?


Share so Everyone Has What They Need
In the Gospel, we heard quite a reversal between how the rich man and Lazarus lived their earthly and eternal lives. Possessions are a constant theme for Luke, although he never tells how to use them. Possessions by themselves are neither good nor bad, but what one does with them is. Possessions can be obstacles to discipleship or they can be placed at its service. We must relinquish property, power, privilege, and status so as to empower others. The ideal is that all will have what is needed through sharing, which involves treasure, time, and talent.

In today’s gospel, no one remembers the name of the rich man, but we all know who Lazarus was. The rich man was so consumed with his possessions that he walked past Lazarus without evening acknowledging him. The rich man, even when in Hades, wanted to use Lazarus as his servant to cool his tongue and warn his brothers. This rich man just didn’t get it. He was all about himself. He had nothing to share; even the concept of sharing never entered his mind. It seems that he ended up in the appropriate place.



Once again Jesus, good teacher that He was, told his listeners a story, this time about a rich man and a poor man. The story is remarkable not so much because their places are reversed in the next life; St. John's Gospel has indications of that on more than one occasion. What is remarkable about the story is what occurs at the end.
Jesus does not indicate that the rich man's possessions had been gained by any injustice or other evil; there is nothing wrong with his riches. What Jesus is emphasizing here is that the rich man cares for no one but himself. He does not realize that the poor man, Lazarus, even exists. He is so absorbed in himself and his sumptuous pleasures that he is oblivious to the sufferings of someone else. He doesn't refuse to help Lazarus; he is not even aware that Lazarus needs any assistance. His abundance blinds him to everything and everyone else.
So Jesus and the prophet condemn the same selfishness. But Jesus goes considerably farther: at least the rich man in his story wants to preserve his brothers from his own sad fate, and asks that someone go and warn them about what happens to people like him. But this is not going to happen; the reply he receives is, "They have Moses and the prophets; let them listen to them." In other words, they don't need any more instruction; they have what they need. What they lack is the will to follow those instructions. Then the punch line: when Lazarus says, if only someone from the dead would go back and tell them, they would listen, he is told, "NO; if they won't listen to Moses and the prophets, they won't even listen to someone risen from the dead."
Why did Jesus say such a thing? I think it was because of His own experience. He did many truly remarkable things: he instantly cured many sick people, he healed many people who were mentally unbalanced, he even raised a few dead people to life. And yet so many people simply refused to believe in Him. He repeatedly asked his listeners to believe in Him; He showed that he had people's well-being at heart. But so many simply would not believe. They did not want to change their way of life. Jesus urged people to follow Him, and offered them the blessings of heaven as a reward, but they turned away from Him.
There's a clear and vivid lesson for all of us here: we don't need any more evidence, any more instruction, any more enlightenment. We have the words and example of Jesus; we have the testimony of so many saints and martyrs that have followed Jesus faithfully in spite of persecution and suffering and hardship. We don't need any more examples; we need to accept the testimony that has been given. We have more than Moses and the prophets; we have Jesus Himself and all the many saints He has raised up throughout the centuries in so many different parts of the world. We must listen to them.
Surely the Lord wants the same of us: not only that we be willing to help our neighbor in need, but that we be aware of his needs; that we be not blind to the sufferings and deprivations of others, but that we care enough for our fellow man to be alert and sensitive and notice when our help is needed. And we don't need any additional revelation: the brothers in the story had Moses and the prophets; we have Jesus Christ and the Saints!!




Either our faith is the guiding force of our actions, or it is not. To live out of a faith context means to apply our time and our means in support of those who struggle, not only within the framework of our own families but within the wider community. In doing so, our prayer and reflection are transformed into deeds of love that bring hope and unity to those we interact with on a daily basis. In essence, our capacity to be truly human is realized in being the faithful and loving servant of Our Lord.
Faith and love are the dynamic components of a true son or daughter of God. Acted upon, it can color the canvas of life with brightness and joy, and can lend hope to those who so desperately are in need of it.








A superficial reading of the story of Lazarus and the rich man might conclude that it is enough to be rich to be bad or to be poor to be good. A deeper understanding of it reveals, however, that Jesus is teaching nothing of the sort. If, in last week’s Gospel, Jesus warns us that the attitude we take to wealth can destroy our relationship with God, this week He emphasizes how our attitude to wealth can destroy our relationship with our neighbor. And while the attitude in question is a danger for both rich and poor, it is particularly so for the rich. Riches lead more easily to self-sufficiency; poverty leads more easily to dependence on others.
We could describe the wrong attitude to money as having two complementary sides – the two sides of a coin. It opens the door to self-absorption on the one hand, and thus to indifference on the other. The rich man in the parable simply did not notice Lazarus, even although Lazarus was lying at his door – he could easily have tripped over him. The reason he did not notice him was his self-absorption, shown in his daily routine of concern about how he looked and how he ate, fine linen and sumptuous dinners. The rich man shows how easily money can close you in on yourself if the opportunities and the power it gives are used only for yourself. Had the rich man been a poor man, perhaps he would also have been selfish without his money, but his neediness might then have forced him at least to look to other people to help him. Earthly riches can be transformed into heavenly riches if the power they give is put at the service of justice and of charity. Otherwise they can consume the one who possesses them; indeed, the rich man, rather than possess his riches, can become possessed by them. They can eat out his heart and dull his conscience. The plight of the poor, he might contend, is “none of his business”, he does not “want to be bothered” by such matters; he has more important things to worry about. His relationships with others may well be limited to people like himself, making up one great mutual admiration society. One reflects the other as in a grotesque hall of mirrors; they are bonded by their zeal for greed and indulge in subtle games of envy and rivalry. Being someone means having much; those who have nothing are nobodies, so how can the nobodies merit the attention of the some bodies?
In the parable, Jesus records no conversation between the rich man and Lazarus. Self-absorption kills dialogue; the cry of the poor goes unheeded, because the rich man simply cannot hear it. Money has made him deaf and dumb. Money not only divides the haves from the have-nots, it can also isolate the rich man in himself. It should be no surprise that many rich people are also very lonely people, and that their energies, both physical and spiritual, are sapped, not by caring for others, but by their money. As the psalm puts it: in his riches, man lacks wisdom, he is like the beasts that are destroyed. Riches can deprive a man of his awareness of his own humanity and of the humanity of others. He can believe himself a god, and his brother a dog. In so doing, however, he has dehumanized both himself and his brother and he has blasphemed against God. Self-absorption leads to an empty faith, to a form of hope no more real than death is inevitable, and to incurable insensitivity to the demands of love and of justice.
Riches are indeed a blessing from God, if they are not obtained unjustly or employed selfishly. Moses and the prophets made it increasingly clear to the children of Abraham that the Lord alone is the inheritance of His people. Amos rails against the self-satisfaction of the rich and lays at their door the blame for the terror of Israel’s exile. Even after the return from exile, the heart of the Jewish establishment exacerbates the patience of God by again falling into the idolatry of riches. The rich wanted the prophets killed, silenced, besmirched. They would not listen to reason, they would not budge from their stubborn materialism, they would not understand that the harsh judgment of the prophets was intended to bring them to their senses and convert their hearts back to the Lord. Indeed, the rich even expected the prophets to bless them and their questionable deeds! Would they have listened if Yahweh Himself had appeared to them? The rich man in the parable seems to think so. In his lament to Abraham he says: “if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.” But Abraham responds: “If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead” – that is, Christ Jesus Himself.
So what about today? Who are the self-absorbed rich? Who are the poor? Who are the prophets to whom the world does not listen? It is difficult to give names and addresses; Jesus Himself speaks only in the abstract of “a rich man.” Perhaps, however, we can speak of the rich man collectively. Without wishing to over-simplify, we can at least raise the question about the distribution of wealth on our planet. Certainly, many poor nations do not help themselves by their own socio-political structures and actions, but do the tools of international commerce and trade, of international money markets, give them a realistic chance to emerge from their poverty? Are wealthier nations self-absorbed, not because their citizens lack generosity, but because the international system does not favor the development of the poorer nations? To be sure, there are many initiatives and discussions on these matters which have been taking place for decades, as well as many, generous actions on an ad hoc basis, but does the effective, political will exist among all to change the system itself to be more just? Are not many of the tensions which exist between nations due to injustices between them? Terrorism is surely a perverse manipulation of religion, ideas and people, but has it not also been fed by the injustice of commerce and trade? Is it realistic to expect people to abandon terrorism when the incentives to do so are lacking? Force may contain the violence, but only true justice will replace it with true peace.
When I first came to Washington DC, I was warned not to travel in the eastern districts of the city at night because of possible violence. I recall once seeing a documentary about poverty in the world’s capital at a few hundred yards from Capitol Hill. It would be trite to apply simplistically the parable of the rich man and Lazarus to the west and east of Washington DC, but the point is that we may well have Lazarus on our own doorstep, as we may well have people who are absorbed in themselves being indifferent to his plight. No-one wants Lazarus to suffer, but to be relieved; no-one wants the rich man to be condemned to the under-world, but to be saved.
So we need prophets, nationally and internationally, who will seek to pierce the deafness and dumbness of unjust structures and of the men and women who sustain them. Clearly, however, in order for the prophets’ mission to be successful, whoever those prophets may be, each of us in his or her own life needs to take this parable of Jesus to heart. Each of us can do a little to prove that the prophet’s call can change a heart and a life. Jesus achieves the salvation of all through the salvation of each. If each of the some 300 people here would pledge to banish self-absorption and indifference from his or her own heart, chances are that we would affect 300 more, and so on. Some of you may be in positions to try and influence the structures to which I referred, be it through education, diplomacy, politics or law. We cannot just knuckle under and say: ‘it’s impossible’, and give in to a kind of pseudo-realism which is in fact made up of a combination of resignation, cynicism and laziness. No wonder people do not see Christ in us, if we will not truly and perseveringly believe in the power of Christ to change us, and the world through us. Prophecy is not just about screaming reproaches. It is about witness, seeing Christ’s priorities through in perseverance, sweat and tears. As the rich man was self-absorbed in his purple garments, we Christians can be self-absorbed in our religious garments; we can become complacent and comfortable in our catechism, self-indulgent in our sacramental piety, arrogant and indifferent because of the dogmatic certainty of our faith. But these things do not exist to make us feel jolly good about ourselves. They are tools given to us to make us heralds, apostles, prophets, witnesses of the power and the grace of Christ to the world, to this world. The very gifts our faith gives us will condemn us if we do not use them for the glory of God in the service of our neighbor.
This city, and any city, this world, past, present and future, are the stage on which the parable of the rich man and Lazarus continues to engage us. We must each ask, and answer: where is the rich man in me? Where is the prophet in me? Where is the Lazarus at my door? The Gospel must upset us before it can console us. Jesus does not tell us bed-time stories, but challenges us to make radical decisions in response to the wisdom of His Cross and in response to our own visceral need to find out who we truly are. The Gospel challenges our fears, small-mindedness and self-concern. It gives us the faith of Mary: nothing is impossible to God. It will not do to complain how difficult it all is, or how tragic our personal life has been. We must not try and fit the Gospel into our lives, but fit our lives into the Gospel. When you take major decisions in your life, do not ask first, “what do I want to do?’, but, “how can I choose a life-commitment, a profession, a change of life, which will best enable me to live and witness to the Gospel?” Any question you ask yourself must first find its answer within the mind of the Gospel. That is what it means to be a prophet. That is how we can change our world. That is how we can break through the deafness of the rich man. That is how we can know that the one who has risen from the dead will sit us down with Abraham and Lazarus at the feast of the Kingdom and serve us the unfading riches of His glory.

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