September 25, 2022

Brief synopsis of the readings: We begin with a continuation of the Old Testament prophet Amos. Through Amos, God continues to call out the wealthy who consume more than they need at the expense of the poor: “Woe to those ensconced so snugly in Zion.” He ends with this: “That is why they will be the first to be exiled; the wanton revelry is over.” In Luke’s Gospel we see Jesus speaking a parable to the Pharisees. He described a rich man who lived well, dressed well, and ate well. Outside his door there was a poor man, Lazarus, who begged for scraps. In addition to his hunger he was covered with sores that stray dogs licked. When both died Lazarus was carried into the “bosom of Abraham”. But the rich man was taken to Hades where he endured flames and torment. In his despairation he begged Abraham have Lazarus dip his finger in water to give the rich man some relief. But Abraham reminded the rich man that he ignored Lazarus during their earthly lives. The rich man then begged for mercy for his five brothers, that they be warned. But Abraham told him that if those brothers will not listen to Moses or the prophets “they will not be convinced even if someone should rise from the dead.”

Again this week we hear a clear image from Amos, though I have to confess that I don’t imagine an ivory bed to be comfortable. I’m also reminded of a quotation from Mahatma Gandhi: “The world has provided enough for our need but not enough for our greed.”

I also think today’s Gospel is clearer than last weeks, but like last week can be seen on different levels. On the most basic level it’s easy: the unnamed rich man does well in this world but is punished in the next while Lazarus suffers in this life is rewarded in the next. When I worked for hospice I had a patient who lived in poverty for most of her life. She believed in reincarnation and was certain she would be born into wealth in her next life. I asked her to have pity on me.

But going deeper I find a few parts of this parable interesting. As I mentioned earlier we don’t know the name of the rich man, only Lazarus. It interests me because many people wish to become rich so that people will know their name: they make a name for themselves. Each year several magazines write articles on the wealthiest people in the world and it’s a coveted list. We also know of several organizations that publish a “Who’s Who” index.

And the gulf between the rich man and Lazarus is wide. Lazarus begged at his gate but we have no indication that they ever met. Large homes (then and now) often have several entrances and it’s not impossible to imagine they used different gates. But after they die, even then (even then) the rich man will not address Lazarus. Instead he asks Abraham to instruct Lazarus to dip his finger in water. Even then Lazarus is not deserving of direct communication.

If we look on the rich man with scorn we are on the right path but perhaps not far enough. I spoke how the rich man may well have entered by a different gate to avoid dealing with Lazarus, about how Lazarus was invisible to him in this life. I fear these days this separation has become easier.

As I write this the governors of Texas and Florida are flying immigrants to Massachusetts. It’s clearly a political stunt but it also gives the governors the opportunity ignore them much as the rich man ignored Lazarus. Both governors identify as Catholic and their actions appear to conform with the “Prosperity Gospel” that believes wealth is God’s reward for obedience and poverty is either curable to self inflicted.

This is difficult to write but I fear that modern times have made it easier to be the rich man, even if we care about Lazarus. We learn about poverty, political refugees and natural disasters and we can write a check, all the while convincing ourselves that we are doing all we can. I don’t wish to diminish our donations or discourage this time of generosity but after mailing the check we still find ourselves separated by a large gulf.

I’ll be the first to admit I hit the birth jackpot. I live in the United States, I’m white, Christian, heterosexual and was born into a family that encouraged both education and generosity. When I hear from my peers about “white privilege” we often get defensive as in “What am I supposed to do?” That’s an easy answer.

Be kind. If you can, volunteer once in a while at your parish’s St. Vincent de Paul Society or food bank. Google “letters to soldiers” to find a way to write to men and women who are deployed far from home to protect our freedom. Learn the names of and greet the people who clean your office. Hand your plate to the person who cleans off your table at your favorite restaurant and thank them.

You get the idea. We don’t lack for generosity: in the summer of 2014 seven million people endured the ice bucket challenge and donated $115 million to cure ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease). But we do lack for connection and it matters. I don’t think we will be denied salvation by only writing checks but I think we will be denied meeting some wonderful people.

Finally, while we’re on the subject of generosity, perhaps we can be more intentional about this. We all know in the United States that restaurant servers are normally tipped 15 to 20% on the bill. Currently I see a controversy about tip jars in “grab and go” places like Starbucks. Serious, can’t we all afford an extra dollar or two?

OK, take a breath. These readings are tough. God is not an accountant who keeps receipts. But the more intentional we are about our relationship with the poor, the closer we get to the Kingdom of God. Nobody is calling us to donate ourselves into poverty or volunteer ourselves into exhaustion.

But be kind.