Homily for Twenty-Sixth Sunday
Consider the life of Albert Schweitzer. Here was a man who, by his early thirties, had achieved virtually everything the world could offer: he was a celebrated philosopher, a respected theologian, and one of Europe’s finest concert organists. Yet, he made a radical choice, committing himself to a life of service among the poorest in Africa. Why would a man with three doctoral degrees and a world of fame at his fingertips walk away from it all?
His answer was simple: the central influence, the single truth that pierced his conscience, was this very parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus we have just heard. Schweitzer said it was incomprehensible that he should live such a comfortable life, while so many people around him were suffering. In 1952 he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, and he used the prize money to build a leprosy hospital in Gabon. He died in 1965 after serving the poor in West Africa for more than 50 years.
The story of the Rich Man and Lazarus has a long history of changing lives. It completely transformed St Vincent de Paul, a French priest in the 17th century who gave his entire life to serving the poor. His example, in turn, inspired a young university student named Frederick Ozanam.
In 1833, when Blessed Frederick Ozanam was only 20, he and a few friends saw the terrible poverty in Paris and felt they could not ignore the “Lazaruses” on their streets. They decided to act, starting a small group called the “Conference of Charity,” which grew into what we now know in parishes throughout the world as “The Society of St Vincent de Paul.” Their goal was simple: to bring not only food and aid to the needy, but also friendship and human dignity. They understood that the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus demands that we open our eyes and our hearts to the poor who are right outside our doors.
When we hear Jesus’s parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus, it echoes a stern warning given centuries earlier by the prophet Amos in the Old Testament, which is our first reading today. In fact, some scholars have suggested that Jesus, and Luke, who is recording the words of Jesus, had Amos’s description of the luxurious living of the unjust in mind when the rich man in the parable for today is described. This is perhaps why the Church pairs this first reading with the Gospel parable for today.
Amos wasn’t afraid to confront the wealthy people of his time—those who lived in luxurious comfort, “sprawled on their couches, wining and dining in luxury,” feeling completely secure in their riches. Amos’s message of social justice was fierce. He pronounced “Woe to you,” not simply because they were rich, but because they enjoyed themselves at the expense of the poor. Their lavish comfort led to an indifference to the misery around them, and Amos warned that this shallowness and insensitivity would lead to their ruin.
The prophet reminds us that the false security of wealth can easily blind us to God’s demands and the suffering of our neighbour. The judgment that falls on the rich man in the Gospel is the same warning Amos delivered: God sees and cares about those whom the wealthy ignore. So, we hear that a poor man called Lazarus lay at the gate of a rich man. Lazarus’ hunger and suffering is immense. That dogs came and licked his sores only accentuates the indignity of his poverty. In the story both Lazarus and the rich man died and were buried. The rich man’s destiny is Hades where he is in agony, whereas Lazarus’ goes to be in the company of Abraham.
The rich man then asks Abraham to send a warning to his five brothers who are still alive, that they should amend their ways in order to avoid his agony after death. Abraham replies that they have Moses and the prophets that they can listen to.
Then comes a masterful play on theological truth because the rich man says that if someone comes back from the dead to warn them, then they will listen. Abraham replies that if they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, then even if someone were to come back from the dead they will not listen. The insinuation is, of course, that Jesus himself will die and rise from the dead, but those who are hard of heart will still not listen.
This parable makes the point that to listen to Moses and the prophets, is to recognise and listen to Jesus. We have Moses and the prophets and the teachings of Jesus in the Scriptures. If we don’t feel uncomfortable hearing this parable of Jesus, we might just be being deaf to the power of the Gospel. At the very least, this parable should cause us to think about our relationship to the poor.
We cannot but be challenged in terms of the poor person who proverbially lies at our gates, hungry and suffering, and consider to what extent we are caring and considerate of their needs. Is it the people who come to look through our dustbins on garbage collection day? Is it the person who comes to the gate or the door asking for food? Is it the person who begs at the traffic lights? Is it the street children and homeless who sleep on the pavements of Sea Point and Camps Bay?
How do we respond? For most people, resources are limited, even though we know that “limited resources” is a relative concept. Even a person with relatively limited resources is always better off than someone else. And of course, we should remember that our resources are not only food, money and material possessions. Time and the giving of ourselves is a precious resource.
I am sure that we all want to help. Mostly, we are just overwhelmed by the need, and we know we need to engage in responsible-giving. Prudence is important. With limited resources comes the responsibility to ensure that our offerings go where they are needed. We have all been on a steep learning curve over the past year or so here in Sea Point and Camps Bay. We have learned the hard way that direct giving and handouts are not necessarily a solution. Responsible, sustainable giving while not becoming part of the problem, is called for.
One way to be responsible and generous in our care for the poor is to use recognised agencies to direct our resources appropriately. For example, we can continue to support the Community Engagement Portfolio’s work at our parish, and Caritas, the organization in the Archdiocese of Cape Town that coordinates projects in service of those in need. Or we could donate resources directly to a night shelter, a children’s home, or one of the many other organisations in our city. But even if we do this, there will always need to be the capacity to spontaneously but prudently reach out directly to a person in obvious need.
We can be encouraged by the Catholic Rite for Funerals which, in the Final Commendation for the one who has died, refers to the teaching in this parable in saying, “May choirs of angels welcome you and lead you to the side of Abraham; and where Lazarus is poor no longer may you find eternal rest.”
