Homily: 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C
Friends,
the story in today’s Gospel reading invites us to examine how we treat the poor
in our midst. I emphasize in our midst, so as to separate it from our obligation to have
concern for the poor globally. It is
true that, in far too many places in the world—some, perhaps, where you or your
families originated—a majority of the people lives impoverished. Our love for God, whom, the Bible reveals to
us, maintains a special closeness to the poor, impels us to have concern for
people, even though they live far from us, who suffer from the lack of even the
most basic necessities. This is good,
but this is not what this Gospel reading is inviting us to consider today. Rather, it is inviting us to consider how we
treat the poor who are closest to us: those in
our midst.
This
is apparent right at the outset of the story.
After describing the decadence in which the rich man lived, Jesus notes
that a most pitiful man, Lazarus, was lying
at his door. Jesus could have said
that this rich man daily listened to reports of people in distant countries
suffering from poverty because of corruption and violence and yet did nothing
to try to help them, but he didn’t. Rather,
Jesus noted that there was a poor man lying
at his door with whom he would not share even the scraps of food that he
negligently allowed to fall from his table (so unconcerned was he that he would
ever be without!). It is for this utter negligence
of the poor in his midst that the
rich man is condemned to the place of eternal suffering.
This
is an important point to note, right? In
telling the story, Jesus does not show the rich man as condemned to suffering
for being rich. Nor is there any implication that the rich
man is rich by any dishonest means.
Being rich and enjoying the comforts of this world is not what is being
condemned here. Rather, what is being
condemned is a lack of concern for those who are poor, especially the poor ones
in our midst.
It
think it also important to note what isn’t said about Lazarus, the poor man. Jesus doesn’t say that Lazarus is a good man,
only that he is a poor man. We have no
indication of Lazarus’ background or about why he is poor: only that he is
poor. In doing so, Jesus emphasizes that
the poor in our midst demand our attention and compassion, regardless of the
circumstances that led them into poverty.
Point
number three that I think is important to highlight is that Jesus doesn’t
suggest what the rich man should have done to help the poor man, with one exception. When he states that Lazarus was desirous to “eat
his fill of the scraps that fell from the rich man’s table”, Jesus suggests one
way that he could have showed concern for Lazarus: he could have been careful
not to allow food to fall from the table and thus saved the leftovers to share
with the poor man lying at his door. This shows that the rich man is not condemned
for failing to do something specific; rather, he’s condemned for having done nothing at all to help the poor man.
Having
noted these things, I pray that we can see both the uncomplicated lesson that Jesus
is teaching as well as the radicalness of the teaching. The uncomplicated lesson is this: we must
allow ourselves to see the poor “lying at our doors” (that is, “in our midst”)
and, having seen them, we must do something
to help relieve their poverty. The
radicalness of this teaching is that we are called to do this in spite of the
circumstances that led the poor person into his/her poverty or led us to enjoy
worldly comfort.
This
should be a point of regular reflection for us, but more so this week as we
reflect on this passage: If I open my eyes, where do I see the poor in my midst? And not only the material poor, but the
emotionally and spiritually poor as well?
Having seen the poor man/woman lying at my door, what can I do to help
relieve his/her poverty? Remember, it
doesn’t have to be everything, it just has to be something: even something as
simple as taking what you might have otherwise discarded and sharing it with
him/her. Many of you already do this
(and much more!). For this, we give
thanks! In this case, the reflection
then becomes, “Is there still something more that I can do?”
This
last question is important so that we do not become complacent as we enjoy the
fruit of our labors and, thus, the comforts that they can provide. This can lead us to a hardness of heart that
can turn our eyes away from the poor and our solidarity with them. In the Gospel story, the rich man is so
hardened of heart towards Lazarus—whom he never
served—that he has the audacity, even while being tormented in the flames
of hell, to ask that Lazarus serve him! So great is his hardness of heart that
Abraham has to call him to remember that the tables had been reversed: “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.” To me, this is a chilling warning: Are you
comfortable now? Beware that you do not keep these comforts to yourself so that
you don’t lose the true comforts in the life to come.
Friends,
to bring this all together, I will return to something that I said at the beginning
of the homily: that, through the Scriptures, God has revealed to us that he
maintains a special closeness to those who are poor. He loves them and wishes to bless them
because of the sufferings they endure in this life. Authentic love of God urges us to love what
he loves. Therefore, our love for God
should urge us to desire that same closeness with the poor, especially the poor
ones lying at our doors. Saint Theresa of Calcutta frequently reminded
people that her motivation to serve the poor was the teaching of Jesus: that to
do good to one who is poor and suffering was to do it to Jesus. Her love of Jesus led her to love the poor,
in whom she found Jesus.
If
you find that your love of God lacks this strong urge to serve the poor in your
midst, then I encourage you to reflect on your own poverty—the times when,
perhaps, you were in material need, but also when you were in emotional and
spiritual need. Who, in your poverty,
drew close to you? These were signs of
God’s closeness to you. Perhaps this
gratitude for God’s closeness to you will inspire in you a new desire to draw
close to the poor near you so that, in serving those who have no way of
repaying you, you may experience the love of God in a new way—an experience of
loving like God loves—and so deepen your communion with him.
This
love of God drawing close to those who are poor is experienced most profoundly
here in the Eucharist. May our
participation in it today fill us with courageous love that draws us close to
the poor in our midst and thus
prepares us to enter into the peaceful comforts of life eternal in heaven.
Given in Spanish at Saint Paul Parish: Marion, IN –
September 24th, 2022
Given in Spanish at Our Lady of the Lakes Parish:
Monticello, IN
September 25th, 2022
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