Lazarus and the Rich Man

Source: store.ancientfaith.com

In yesterday's Monday Morning Meditation, I quoted a passage from St. John Chrysostom's series of homilies on the Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man. I would like to share a few more as the week unfolds. With his typical wide-ranging depth of interpretation, St. John uncovered many themes in this multi-layered parable. In this passage, he speaks of the various roles human beings assume in life. But these very roles will eventually be stripped away in death, and then the true identity of a person will be revealed in the light of God's judgement:

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Just as in the theatre, when evening falls and the audience departs, and the kings and generals go outside to remove the costumes of their roles, they are revealed to everyone thereafter appearing to be exactly what they are; so also now when death arrives and the theatre is dissolved, everyone puts off the masks of wealth or poverty and departs to the other world. When all are judged by their deed alone, some are revealed truly wealthy, others poor, some of high class, others of no account.

One Small Gesture

Source: uocofusa.org

 Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

Knowing the commandments of the Lord, let this be our way of life: let us feed the hungry, let us give the thirsty drink, let us clothe the naked, let us welcome strangers, let us visit in prison and the sick. Then the Judge of all the earth will say even to us: 'Come, ye blessed of My Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you.'

Vespers of the Sunday of the Last Judgment

One of the classics of children's literature is the wonderful novel A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett. (She also wrote another classic, The Secret Garden). The young heroine of this novel is an English girl named Sara Crewe, who is initially treated as a "little princess" because her father has acquired some wealth through mining speculation, and was able to establish her as one of the more prosperous girls in a boarding school in London. Yet, when the father loses his fortune and unexpectedly dies, Sara finds herself alone and penniless and now at the mercy of the cold-hearted headmistress at the boarding school. Though now treated as a menial servant, and living in abject poverty up in the unheated attic, Sara maintains a graceful spirit that does not succumb to the physical hardships and psychological abuse of her unwanted poverty.

In a deeply touching passage in the book, Sara, living on near-starvation rations, finds a coin in the street and rushes to the local bakery in order to purchase a few newly-baked rolls. The kind baker gives her a few extra because she knew Sara before her unfortunate "reversal of fortune." Yet, when Sara emerges from the bakery with her rolls, she encounters an unkempt and homeless little street waif who is clearly even more impoverished and hungry than she is. In a spontaneous gesture of compassion and kindness, Sara graciously gives the little girl all of the rolls save one. Unknown to Sara, the baker witnessed this act, and was so impressed by Sara's sharing, that she in turn was moved to compassion and eventually brought the little girl into her shop as a worker.

This profoundly Christian scene of "co-suffering love" embedded in an Edwardian novel meant for young readers, always reminds me of the Gospel passage that we just read this last Sunday, known as the pre-lenten Sunday of the Last Judgement. Then we heard the Parable/Teaching of the Last Judgement, found in MATT. 25:31-46. Jesus powerfully describes an active ministry of love as the way to, and characteristic of, the Kingdom of God. In theological language, this is called an eschatological orientation. (Eschatology is from the Gk. word for the "last things"). Christ enumerates the following deeds of an active love that render a human person worthy of entering into the joy of the Lord at the last judgement:

• feeding the hungry
• giving drink to the thirsty
• welcoming strangers
• visiting the sick
• visiting those in prison

The biblical scholar, John L. McKenzie summarized this teaching in the following manner:

Ministry to the basic needs of one's fellow man is the only canon of judgement mentioned here. One could paraphrase by saying that man is judged entirely on his behavior toward his fellow man. The evasion that this does not include man's duties toward to God is met in this passage; Jesus identifies himself with those to whom service is given or refused, and their behavior toward men is their behavior toward God.

The surprise of those who are condemned is easy to understand; they never accepted the fact that they encountered Jesus in other men and that they cannot distinguish between their duties to God and their duties to men. They are ranked with the devils, whose proper element is the fire of Gehenna. Eschatology means man is capable of a final decision that gives his life a permanent character. Both the righteous and the wicked here have made decisions that are irrevocable.

Like the last discourse in JN, the theme is love based on the identity of Jesus with men. In the last analysis, it is love that determines whether men are good or bad. If their love is active, failure to reach perfect morality in other ways will be rare, and it will be forgiven. But there is no substitute for active love.

Dostoevsky, the great Russian novelist, also stressed the importance of an "active love," especially in the character of the elder Zosima in his final masterpiece The Brothers Karamazov, and in his young hero of that novel, Alyosha Karamazov. Active love, for Dostoevsky, was seen by him to be the most convincing repsonse to all of the arguments of theoretical atheism. In the novel, the elder Zosima says the following to a woman racked by doubts concerning immortality - and God by extension:

Strive to love your neighbor actively and tirelessly. To the extent that you succeed in loving, you will become convinced both of the existence of God and of the immortality of your soul. If you attain complete selflessness in loving your neighbor, then will indubitably be persuaded, and no doubt will even be able to enter your soul. This has been tested, this is certain.

Though fictional, Sara Crewe's one small gesture is the embodiment of an active love manifested in a gesture of mercy and compassion for the neighbor. It had no theoretical or ideological component to it. It was deeply personal and devoid of any hidden motives or calculated gains. It transcended all such categorizations. This, I believe, is what most truly exemplifies this remarkable passage in the Gospel. The teaching about the Last Judgement by Christ transcends any political/social programs, policies or promises.  The Parable of the Last Judgement is a direct appeal, perhaps a "warning," to each person - and nation? - who encounters Christ and His teaching. What are you doing as part of a ministry of active love seems to be what Christ is asking? Or, at the Last Judgement, what have you actually done? Deeds of active love may just be the most potent signs that we took Christ and His teaching seriously.

The Rich Man and Lazarus

Encountering Lazarus

*For three consecutive Sundays, we always have the so-called "Lazarus Basket" by the Cross once we read the Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man. For those who are new to the parish, perhaps this older meditation may be helpful in explaining the meaning and purpose of that basket.

Dear Parish Faithful & Friends in Christ,

At the Divine Liturgy yesterday morning, we heard the Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man (LK. 16:19-31). A wonderful parable, indeed, but a frightening one as Christ describes the torments of Hades/Hell for those who refuse to practice charity in this life. The "rich man" dressed well and ate well, according to the parable (16:19). But yet he ignored Lazarus who lay outside his gate (on a daily basis?). Lazarus, of course, was not only poor, but he was "full of sores," and seemingly at a near-starvation level, because he would have been content with whatever "fell from the rich man's table" (16:20-21). 

Upon their respective deaths, there was a staggering "reversal of fortune." Lazarus "was carried by the angels to Abraham's bosom" (16:22); but the nameless (not an insignificant detail) rich man was delivered to Hades, the shadowy realm of death where the presence of God cannot be enjoyed. Conscious and tormented by his condition, and reminded by the Lord that his indifference to Lazarus put him there: "Son, remember that you in your lifetime received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things" (16:25), the rich man languishes in agony and regret. And it is too late to repent so that he can come over to the bosom of Abraham, a clear image of paradise: "between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, in order that those who would pass from here to you may not be able, and none may cross from there to us." (16: 26)

It is difficult to determine just how much in a parable can be applied in a doctrinal manner to the mystery of the judgment and the world to come; but nevertheless this parable should have our undivided attention when it comes to our charitable side when contemplating our impending judgment. (There is, of course, the Parable of the Last Judgment in MATT. 25:31-46, read right before the beginnng of Great Lent). We may read the parable as a warning or as an encouragement, but the lesson remains the same. A lack of charity among those who have the means to practice it, reveals an indifference that leaves one unprepared for the joy of God's presence in the age to come.

We hardly encounter a Lazarus type in our everyday lives. We are protected from such encounters. The appeal to our charitable side comes through less direct sources - the mail, audio communication, word-of-mouth, but also in our churches. We periodically have collections for the poor and needy, for victims of natural disasters and the like. This appeal is usually in the form of a basket that is placed by the Cross, so that after the Liturgy, we may come forward, kiss the Cross, and place our contribution in the basket. 

Here, then, is how I see this parable being actualized - made present - in our own lives, at least periodically. The basket, or basket-holder, represents Lazarus, and each one of us represents the rich man. When we go by the basket, we go right past Lazarus. Do we stop and attend to the needs of Lazarus, or do we pass him by as did the rich man? The description of being "rich" is quite relative, for we are all well-clothed and well-fed as was the rich man. We can always put "something' in the basket (beyond what would honestly be deemed a mere token gesture). The right question, therefore, is not: "Can I afford to put something in the basket?" It is: "Can I afford not to put something in the basket in the light of Christ's parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man?" Or, is it possible to kiss the Cross of our Savior, and then walk right by "Lazarus?" Such a thought should strike our conscience, open our hearts - and then our pockets or purses.

We can hardly respond to every appeal that comes our way. We have to make choices based on some discernment. I am raising the point of enjoying our Lord's hospitality toward us in the Eucharistic liturgy, because He made Himself poor so that we could be made rich in Christ Jesus (II COR. 8:9) - a saving event actualized whenever we celebrate the Liturgy. Lazarus can be in our midst also, in one form or another. It may take some sympathetic imagination to "see" him in a mere basket by the Cross, but hopefully the parable will convince us that the way of the rich man is not consistent with the gifts of God that we enjoy in such abundance.

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In case you may be further interested, below are a series of links to other meditations that I have written throughout the years on the Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man. There is, admittedly, a great deal of overlap and I depend on St. John Chrysostom's remarkable set of homilies on the parable throughout these meditations. But, again, in case you may be interested to read further:

A Radical Critique of Selfishness - Lazarus and the Rich Man

Alleviating the Plight of the Poor

St. John Chrysostom on Wealth and Poverty