The world is filled with those in need—both material and spiritual. In the Catholic Mass for this Sunday (Sept. 28), the focus is upon the theme of charity, primarily Luke 16 and the parable of the rich man and poor Lazarus.
To recap: The passage contrasts two men—one wealthy, the other destitute and afflicted. The rich man, clothed in fine garments and feasting lavishly, ignores Lazarus, a poor man covered in sores at his gate and longing for scraps. Both men die: Lazarus is comforted “in Abraham’s bosom,” while the rich man is tormented in Hell.
Now, this parable is not primarily about the afterlife but about right use of material goods and Christian requirements of charity here and now. It criticizes spiritual blindness born of indifference toward those in need and exposes hard-heartedness rooted in self-indulgence. As St. Ambrose wrote: “The rich man is condemned not because he was rich but because he showed no mercy.”
A bedrock Christian principle following from faith in Jesus is that what is given us is not given for us alone, but rather to aid those in need. As Jesus says of the requirement of charity: “Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.” (Matthew 25:40)… as He also warns: “Truly, I say to you, as you did it NOT to one of the least of these, you did it NOT to me.”( Matthew 25:45) He ends that passage with “…[those deficient in charity] will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous [the charitable] into eternal life.” (Matthew 25:46)
Other Biblical passages reinforce this principle. In the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37), mercy transcends boundaries of kinship and nation. The story of the Widow’s Mite (Luke 21:1-4) honors sacrificial giving over abundance. A defining criterion for followers of Christ is not merely hearing but doing: “Be doers of the word, and not hearers only” (James 1:22).
Yet complacency is our constant nemesis … the narrow seeking of our own comforts in an easily spun cocoon of self-absorption.
Another reading of the same Mass from the prophet Amos also speaks along the same theme. After Solomon, Israel had split into two—the northern kingdom of 10 tribes, which continued to be called “Israel”, and the southern kingdom of Judah, which consisted of the tribes of Judah and Benjamin. The northern kingdom eventually was conquered by Assyria, and abandoned proper worship of, and obedience to, God. Yet Amos criticizes the southern kingdom of Judah for their complacency, caring little for the moral collapse of their northern brethren: “Woe to [them]! / Lying upon beds of ivory, stretched on their couches…They drink wine from bowls [another translation is “they drink bowlfuls of wine”] and anoint themselves with the best oils; yet they are not made ill by the collapse of Joseph!” (meaning Israel).
But that complacency which Amos condemns in the large scale, Jesus shows applies to individuals, reminding us that many live in comparative luxury, and yet with little consideration for their fellow Man in spiritual and/or spiritual need: their neighbor.
Like the Israelites whom Amos criticizes, we, too, easily become too comfortable, forgetting that God has given all to us and ignoring our common humanity. This is why Christ—and the Christian Church—remind us continually that we are simply those stewards of the blessings we receive, and, as Jesus tells us: “Everyone to whom much is given, of him will much be required…” (Luke 12:48)
Thus, rather than live with closed fist, we should relish opportunities to serve God and one another, for by them we prove ourselves worthy of the stewardship with which we are entrusted.
After all, Amos didn’t accuse his fellow Israelites of explicit sinfulness, and neither does Jesus accuse the rich man of such; rather, their crimes are in ignoring neighbor in desperate need. Jesus’ parable is not so much about wealth, but about indifference … about spiritual blindness that prevents the rich man from even seeing the poor man lying at his gate. Lazarus, whose name tellingly means “God helps”, is destitute, longing for crumbs, covered with sores, whom even dogs pity by licking his wounds. Are we not to be better than dogs? And while the rich man is unnamed, Jesus gives Lazarus a name, for in God’s eyes the poor and forgotten always have dignity, always have a face, always matter.
The rich, the poor … each is made in God’s image. Each His child. And the apostle John writes: “…if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him?” (1 John 3:16-17) Similarly, St. John Chrysostom said: “Not to share our wealth with the poor is to rob them and take away their livelihood. The things we possess are not ours but theirs.”
So, we can’t but ask: Upon whom will God’s greater compassion fall—the rich, or the poor? … and the rich who help the poor? Thus the brother/sister with much is to assist the brother/sister with little, just as we would expect our own children to care for one another. Simplicity, kindness and charity, not self-indulgence, ought be watchwords for life, for as the Biblical author asks of God: “…give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me [only] with the food that is needful for me, lest I be full, and deny thee, and say, ‘Who is the LORD?’…” (30:8-9) As Jesus fed the hungry, healed and visited the sick, had compassion on those in misery, forgave others, and loved God before all else, so will His true disciples also do.
The Lazarus parable is not meant to frighten us, but to awaken us. God wants us to live lives of goodness, for HE is goodness … and He longs for us to join Him in Heaven for eternity. But we are here for a purpose: to love God, and to love neighbor. So we ask Him for eyes to see, hearts to be moved, and hands willing to act. To live charity is to heed both Moses and the Prophets and, above all, to recognize Christ in every Lazarus—then, as now, lying at the gate.
Editor’s note: Rev. Glenn Jones is the Vicar General of the Archdiocese of Santa Fe and former pastor of Immaculate Heart of Mary Catholic Church in Los Alamos.
