November 13, 2022 at Saint Peter & Saint William Parishes in Naples, FL

Malachi 3, 19-20 + Psalm 9 + 2 Thessalonians 3, 7-12 + Luke 21, 5-19

About forty-six years before the birth of Jesus, Herod the Great, looking for favor and admiration from the people began refurbishing the Temple. It was not because he was a holy man or necessarily because it needed it, but because he wanted to impress with his vision and power. Archeologists tell us that some of the granite stones as big as boxcars were cut with such precision that they fit together so well there was no need for mortar. The episode in this Gospel today takes place on a hill just opposite the hill on which Jerusalem is built with the Temple sitting there like a crown. The sun reflecting off the brilliant white marble made the Temple visible for miles. To imagine Jerusalem without the Temple or to imagine that Temple coming down would have been impossible. It would like us trying to image Washington D.C. without the Capital Building or the Washington Monument, like New York City without the Statue of Liberty. Yet, because of what Jerusalem had become and how the Temple had become a place of commerce and the domain of the Scribes and Pharisees, Jesus knew it would come down. It did not take any divine knowledge to believe that. Just about 40 years after Jesus said these things, it happened.

A thirty-year-old roman general named Titus stood just about where Jesus was and with sixty or eighty thousand men starved the city into submission. Historians tell us that when the Romans finally entered the city they found that the Jews there had been fighting among themselves. Fanatics, extreme nationalists, and bandits held control of various parts of the city. Enraged at the stubborn behavior of those citizens, Titus allowed the soldiers to sack, burn, and destroy that Temple carrying off everything they found of value.

Luke wrote shortly after this disaster, and the signs he recorded had already happened. The false messiahs, wars, earthquakes, plagues, and persecutions happened before he wrote. Judaism had excommunicated Christians from synagogues, families were betraying each other. Mt Vesuvius had cast darkness over much of the Mediteranean world, and the Roman persecutions had begun. We could ask why Luke writes like this and certainly wonder what are we to do about it, and these are questions we ought to ask

The answer to the first question is there in the text. Luke writes to people who living at critical times with words of hope for the future and a wisdom that will guide human life. Rather than be frightened by whatever tragedy is happening, we cannot miss those words: “Not a hair on your head will be destroyed. “  Those tragedies, that fear, that violence from the time of Luke still goes on. The World Trade Center came down, children are running wild with guns shooting their parents, and friends. War and rumors of dirty bombs are still a reality. Christians are still persecuted for their faith even here at home. The church itself is torn apart by those refusing to listen to the Holy Spirit, and this country is ripped into red states and blue states. Luke’s comforting message must still be proclaimed.

And the answer to the second question is found in the wisdom of God’s Word: “By your perseverance you will secure your lives.” This kind of endurance is an essential quality of discipleship. There is no measuring the good that has failed to happen in this world because of hesitation, faltering and wavering cowardice. Fear keeps people quiet and timid. This cannot be so for us. It was never so for Jesus Christ, and it cannot be so for those of us who claim his name. As Saint Paul wrote, we endure all things because of love which is patient and kind. It is never jealous, pompous or rude. It does not seek its own interest. It does not brood over injury but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things.

November 1, 2022 at St. Peter Parish in Naples, FL

Revelation 7, 2-4 & 9-14 + Psalm 24 + 1 John 3, 1-3 + Matthew 5, 1-12

Apparently, the writher of the Book of Revelation expects one hundred and forty-four thousand to be the population of heaven. One hundred and forty-four thousand is less than half the population of Collier County. If you read this literally, it might give you some serious anxiety about whether or not you are going to make the cut. But, before make some sense of this, we ought to dig into the first reading today with a little combination of Mathematics and Bible knowledge. First of all, how many tribes are there in Israel? Now the math. What’s 12 squared equal? Now, the big round number of that day was “one-thousand”. In our times, we often think of a huge number by saying “millions”, but at the time of this writing they would have said “one-thousand” to express a really big number. So, take the number of tribes, square that number and then add the number that means “huge” and we get 144,000. 

Is that really the population of heaven? This might be a good day to figure this out since the closer we get to the end of this liturgical year selections from the Book of Revelation and the apocalyptic style of writing will become more frequent in the Gospels.

The whole purpose of this is to draw attention to the big picture and the direction of salvation’s history. For almost a year, we have been proclaiming Luke’s Gospel which his one long journey to Jerusalem – not Jerusalem as place, but the “New Jerusalem” of heaven. So, our readings from Sacred Scripture to day and in the next few weeks are going to remind us of the big-time-space picture within which we live our Christian hope as we head to Jerusalem.

So, we have to figure out how to take seriously talk about 144,000 saved people standing with robes washed in blood holding palm branches. That takes some informed reflection and some study. It helps to know that first century Jews thought that the “age to come” would see the restoration of the scattered twelve tribes. The writer of Revelation sees the fulfillment of that expectation and even more. In other words, it’s going to be that restoration of the twelve tribes and even more, even better. Heaven won’t be just the twelve tribes, it will be twelve times twelve tribes and a million more! To make sure readers to do not get too literal about a head count, he adds a picture of numberless, multitudes representing every nation, race, people, and tongue under the sun.

What it all means is that the end of time turns out to be more than Israel ever imagined. It is more than anyone can imagine. Rather than a limited number, it is countless, and the implication for us then is that we have a chance. In fact, it’s probably better than a chance since in the end it involves God’s grace which is not a chance thing. It’s real. There’s room for us all, and this God revealed by Jesus is out get is all.

The saints we honor and remember today are hardly all dead and gone. We all know living people, ordinary Christians who live their lives enduring trials, sometimes terrible pain, family tragedies with great faith never stopping their love and service to others. They are constant in worship and in virtue. The power of grace is visible in their lives. 

The saints are marvelous and many, way more than the nearly 10,000 named by the Church. To think that those named are the only ones limits the grace of God. The saints are as numerous as the grains of sand. They are with us and for us in every generation. They are in every parish, and they are sitting here in front of me. Today, we praise God for them, and we are encouraged to look forward and to work for that day when no one is ever excluded from God’s love and God’s house.

November 6, 2022 at St. Peter Parish in Naples, FL

2 Maccabees 7, 1-2. 9-14 + Psalm 17 + 2 Thessalonians 2, 16-3,5 2 + Luke 20, 27-38

The journey of Jesus to Jerusalem is complete.  Jesus is there in the Temple. In Luke’s Gospel, the Temple is the place it all began and the place where it all ends. Like bookends, Luke frames his Gospel from the moment the old priest, Zechariah is visited by an angel in the Temple to this moment when Jesus stands in that Temple the mission of Jesus unfolds for us. Earlier he has cleansed the Temple, almost claiming it for himself. Unafraid of his opposition, he teaches openly and bravely while his enemies continue to harass him. On this day, they come with a ridiculous proposition not so much to trap him as to ridicule him.

It has nothing to do with marriage, and Jesus knows that. It has to do with getting Jesus to take a side in the ongoing debate at the time over life after death. Those Sadducees want to ridicule the whole idea of life after death, and in so doing make Jesus look like a fool. They think that a man lived only through his descendants which is the issue on their silly story. Jesus insists that life has nothing to do with children or anything humans think they can produce, and with this conflict, the very meaning of human life is raised up for reflection. The meaning of life itself is ultimately what this is all about, and today we are challenged by this Gospel to resolve what human life, our life is all about.

The times and culture in which we find ourselves deserve some critique. Evidence is all around us that belief in eternal life is not strong. The very meaning of our existence is called into question today. What is it that matters in this life? What is it that gives us meaning and purpose is the question. For me, the clearest indication that belief in eternal life is not commonly shared shows itself at funerals when someone gets up to give a eulogy. Nine times out of ten they will talk about what the dead person did, or said, their work or their interests. When someone speaks about the dead in terms of their faith and their relationship with God, something else is being revealed.

Jesus invites us to imagine and dream of all the love we can give and receive. He invites us to see in relationships the meaning of life. Possessions do not give us genuine meaning, and no legacy or any estate we leave behind will give meaning to our lives. Jesus invites us to open our imaginations to understand life in terms of where we are headed. The trouble is, too often too few of us ever give much thought to where we are headed acting as though they believed there is no life after death. 

Well, there is, and we who believe that cherish the words of our Holy Father Francis, who says: “Life exists where there is bonding, communion, fraternity; and life is stronger than death when it is built on true relationship and bonds of fidelity.” Here in this church, here at this altar we restore, nurture, and rediscover those relationships with one another in communion and with the one who feeds us with food for the journey. Life does have meaning but it will never be found in the things of this earth or things made by man. The meaning of life is made clear by a people who remember every day that there is a future, there is life everlasting, and that we have an immortal soul longing and waiting to be united again with the source of all life. It is the future that gives meaning to life. It is relationships that give meaning to life. It is love given and shared that gives meaning to life, and that will be the legacy we leave behind giving witness to the fact that we know what life is all about.

October 30, 2022 at Saint Agnes, St William, & St. Peter Parishes in Naples, FL

Wisdom 11, 22-12,2 + Psalm 145 + 22 Thessalonians 1, 11 2, 2 + Luke 19, 1-10

We have to somehow get it straight in our heads that the Gospel is not some ideal, some pie-in-the-sky wish about the future in some alternate reality. The Gospel is about now, and its examples are not just drawn from some time long-ago. If the Word of God is truly alive, then it speaks to our time, our world, and our relationships. It addresses our behavior and our choices.

Last week with two men at prayer, a tax collector being one of them, and this week with another tax collector named Zacchaeus, we see the approval of Jesus for tax collectors who are reforming their lives because of their faith. These two stories are unique to Luke. They are not repeated in any of the other three Gospels, giving us one more example of Luke’s recurring theme: “The Son of Man has come to seek and save what is lost.” The resolve of Zacchaeus to give back and repay is evidence of his conversion and desire for restitution which is so much a part of real justice.

The act of Jesus entering the house of Zacchaeus is clear evidence of where Jesus wants to be and whose company he prefers. In that house there will be no one trying to trap him, no one watching his every move, no one listening to see if he says something that would get him into trouble. This is now near the end of Luke’s Gospel. Jesus is almost to Jerusalem. There can no longer be any doubt about where Jesus is to be found, not in a Temple this time or a Synagogue, but in and among the ones he came, loved, and saved: sinners.

Jesus reaches out to Zacchaeus for hospitality, and with that request accepted, it’s all over for the sinner, Zacchaeus. He’s on his way to holiness. As his relationship to Jesus changes, so does his relationship to material possessions. 

C.S Lewis wisely observed that the greatest sinners and the greatest saints are made from the same stuff, and so it is with us as well. This church is full of sinners and saints. They are not different people, and there’s way to point out one from the other, because all of us both sinner and saint. Holiness begins to take hold of us and define us when we welcome Jesus into our homes, our lives, and our hearts. At that moment, our relationship to material things will change as well.

The times in which we live have pushed us far apart making the challenge of this Gospel more difficult to embrace. Too often we prefer to hang around and listen to people who think like us, vote like us, live like us and sometimes pray like us. The kind of life coming from that behavior is far from life the way Jesus lived. He did not hang around with his own kind. If there is to hope for sinners, if there is any hope at all for conversion and the ultimate arrival of God’s Reign, we will have to pay attention to and follow the example of Jesus. Disciples of Jesus Christ must prefer and often be found in the home of a sinner. We must seek out the company of sinners, even great sinners for many of them may be on the threshold of conversion waiting for God’s love perhaps that can be found today nowhere else but within us. When that happens, sinners become saints.

This homily was not delivered in a Latin Rite Parish this Sunday. I am serving a Maronite Rite Parish in Tequesta, FL

Sirach 35, 12-14, 16-18 + Psalm 34 + 2 Timothy 4, 6-8, 16-18 + Luke 18, 9-14

It had to have been startling and disturbing to the people listening to Jesus when he first described that scene with two men a prayer. To recognize holiness in a tax collector was impossible to those people, so despised were tax collectors. If it did anything at all it might have caused them to give some attention to the prayer rather than the one at prayer, thereby giving us all something to think about when it comes to prayer. One look at the prayer Jesus taught us sets the focus. Prayer is first of all about giving honor, glory, and praise to God. In the end, that’s all God expects and asks of us. The prayer Jesus taught begins by doing just that: “Hallowed by the name”. 

That Pharisee at prayer seems to be praying to himself. Five times he uses the word, “I”. Clearly, he is praising himself. There’s no recognition of God at all. It’s as though he is in an echo chamber. Yet, he is a Pharisee. He’s one of the holy and righteous ones in Israel. He’s praying to himself. He recites his virtues wanting to appear blameless. It doesn’t work. He claims to be honest, but he is not even honest with himself. He claims that he is no adulterer, but yet his self-admiration makes him unfaithful to God. He tithes missing the point that tithing and fasting should lead us to care for others.

Meanwhile in the back, with head bowed the mercy of God is acknowledged by someone honest enough to call himself a sinner. Best of all, he is willing to accept that mercy His prayer reveals that he is ready to move beyond selfishness. Honest about who he is, he is also honest about who God is knowing that he deserves nothing but hoping for the loving kindness of God. That hope itself is a kind of praise and acknowledgement of the virtues of God. While the other one is certain that he has earned it, as though God passed out rewards to God’s favorites.

These verses invite us to re-examine our prayer language as well as our image of God who wants to be God to us, a God of mercy, a God of forgiveness, a God of compassion and love. I don’t think God wants to be the judge who passes out prizes to the winners That image of God comes out of our behavior and thinking. It is not the image of God Jesus came to reveal.

This Jesus of Luke’s Gospel speaks to us today with a reminder that those who know their need for God will pray in a way that God can answer. I believe that God likes us best when we are humble enough to admit our need for God’s help and open enough to receive what God wants to give.

“The safest road to Hell is the gradual one” says C.S. Lewis. “It’s the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones.” He is explaining how easy it is for religious people (Pharisees and us) to lose our way, to gradually slip from wonder before God into thinking that our own perfections and success are what matters allowing to scorn and judge others who seem less than we are. Only those who understand God’s humility can bow their heads before mercy. When we pray: “God, be gracious to me” we are simply asking God to be God. What greater praise could there be?

This homily was not delivered in a Latin Rite Parish this Sunday. I am serving a Maronite Rite Parish in Tequesta, FL

October 16, 2022

Exodus 17, 8-13 + Psalm 121 + 2 Timothy 3, 14 + 4, 2 + Luke 18, 1-8

As always with parables, things get turned upside down. No exception with this one. This weekend, a powerless, woman has all the power. The all-powerful judge with all the right connections and authority is helpless in the case with this woman. In demanding her rights, her dignity, and a respectful hearing, she stands for all the weak and powerless on this earth who cry out for justice, respect, and a dignified life worthy of God’s children.

The perseverance evidenced in this parable is not really about pestering or badgering God. It is not as though God can or would change God’s mind if we say enough rosaries or twice as many novenas. What must change is not God, but the heart of those in charge, those who can do something about injustice.

God is not involved in this parable. It’s between the woman and the judge. He is the one who must provide what she needs. God has given him the means, the position, and the power to do so. There is no suggestion that the judge is the cause of her condition. What is at fault is his indifference and his false peace coming from his complacency.

In some ways, the widow is preaching conversion. She demands the sort of relationships we should expect in the Kingdom of God. Justice for her will ultimately bring justice for all including the judge who will have fulfilled the Law of Moses by caring for a widow thereby justifying himself in the eyes of God. It’s a win-win situation for them both.

It seems to me that this story is a reminder that part of the Christian vocation does include disturbing the complacent and working with constant persistence for justice. Perhaps these verses are not nearly as much about prayer as they are about discipleship, faith, and vision of the Kingdom of God and what it takes to get there.

October 9, 2022 at Saint Agnes, St William, & St. Peter Parishes in Naples, FL

2 Kings 5, 14-17 + Psalm 98 + 2 Timothy 2, 8-13 + Luke 17:11-19

We all know this episode from Luke’s Gospel very well. If after the first couple of lines you can’t finish the story, you’ve been sleeping or playing with your phone instead of listening. And, at the risk of causing a fuss with the other priests in the parish who have preached this Gospel today at different hours, I suspect that most folks have gone home thinking this all about gratitude and saying thank you. Well, those of you getting accustomed to me would know that I’m not buying that at all. The Gospel is far too complex to be that simple, and taking the easy way out with this text means you have failed to pay attention to the subtle details. It is what Luke does not say that matters here and can lead us deeper in the message.

Remember that episode when a shepherd leaves the 99 and looks for the lost one? Well, here he is again. Jesus wants to know where are the missing 9? “Where are the others?” he asks. Obviously, they were doing exactly what they were told to do, going to the priest. Now, pay attention. The ten asked for mercy. They did not ask to be cleansed. We have no reason to think they knew who Jesus was. In fact, when he is recognized, the Gospel always tells us that. It does not say that here. They are just crying out for mercy as they probably did all the time. 

There is something unique about this healing. Jesus never touches them and Luke never says that he got near them. Mysteriously, on their way, they were cleansed. In fact, Luke never says that they got to the priest. It seems to me that their healing came from their obedience, not from touch or some word spoken by Jesus. By going to the priest, they were fulfilling what was required by the law. It’s that obedience to the Law that bought them healing. There’s a message as important as gratitude, but that’s not all. There is more.

That Samaritan realized that there was something more going on here, and he went back full of joyful excitement. But Jesus is not excited. He just says, “What about the rest?” I don’t think he was wondering what happened to them. I think it’s a simple statement recognizing that the nine just returned to a normal life while this one realized that his healing was more than physical. He knew he had been saved. Not so the others. How sad. 

He fell at the feet of Jesus. In the original Greek, Luke uses the word, eucharisteo. That’s an important detail that we don’t get in English unfortunately. This is then an act of adoration as much as it is gratitude. He recognized that God was acting through this man. That man realized that there was more here than he had imagined. He did not just get cured of a disease, he was brought to new life, to joy, and to peace, and knew he was in the presence of God. Eucharist!

That man is different from the others. As a Samaritan, he knew very well what it was to be an outcast even before he contracted that disease. Yet, he perceived more than the others. He was not just cured. He was touched to his soul by mercy, and that’s what healed him.

My friends, that’s you and me. We have been touched by mercy. We have come back here to this church to make eucharist which is way more than just saying, “thank you.” It is an act of adoration and an act of incorporation into mercy itself. That one man speaks to us with a message of mercy and its power to heal and restore what is broken in every relationship. Try it. He is a witness to the truth that when we are open and willing to do what Jesus asks, we will receive more than we can imagine. 

October 9, 2022 at Saint Agnes, St William, & St. Peter Parishes in Naples, FL

2 Kings 5, 14-17 + Psalm 98 + 2 Timothy 2, 8-13 + Luke 17:11-19

We all know this episode from Luke’s Gospel very well. If after the first couple of lines you can’t finish the story, you’ve been sleeping or playing with your phone instead of listening. And, at the risk of causing a fuss with the other priests in the parish who have preached this Gospel today at different hours, I suspect that most folks have gone home thinking this all about gratitude and saying thank you. Well, those of you getting accustomed to me would know that I’m not buying that at all. The Gospel is far too complex to be that simple, and taking the easy way out with this text means you have failed to pay attention to the subtle details. It is what Luke does not say that matters here and can lead us deeper in the message.

Remember that episode when a shepherd leaves the 99 and looks for the lost one? Well, here he is again. Jesus wants to know where are the missing 9? “Where are the others?” he asks. Obviously, they were doing exactly what they were told to do, going to the priest. Now, pay attention. The ten asked for mercy. They did not ask to be cleansed. We have no reason to think they knew who Jesus was. In fact, when he is recognized, the Gospel always tells us that. It does not say that here. They are just crying out for mercy as they probably did all the time. 

There is something unique about this healing. Jesus never touches them and Luke never says that he got near them. Mysteriously, on their way, they were cleansed. In fact, Luke never says that they got to the priest. It seems to me that their healing came from their obedience, not from touch or some word spoken by Jesus. By going to the priest, they were fulfilling what was required by the law. It’s that obedience to the Law that bought them healing. There’s a message as important as gratitude, but that’s not all. There is more.

That Samaritan realized that there was something more going on here, and he went back full of joyful excitement. But Jesus is not excited. He just says, “What about the rest?” I don’t think he was wondering what happened to them. I think it’s a simple statement recognizing that the nine just returned to a normal life while this one realized that his healing was more than physical. He knew he had been saved. Not so the others. How sad. 

He fell at the feet of Jesus. In the original Greek, Luke uses the word, eucharisteo. That’s an important detail that we don’t get in English unfortunately. This is then an act of adoration as much as it is gratitude. He recognized that God was acting through this man. That man realized that there was more here than he had imagined. He did not just get cured of a disease, he was brought to new life, to joy, and to peace, and knew he was in the presence of God. Eucharist!

That man is different from the others. As a Samaritan, he knew very well what it was to be an outcast even before he contracted that disease. Yet, he perceived more than the others. He was not just cured. He was touched to his soul by mercy, and that’s what healed him.

My friends, that’s you and me. We have been touched by mercy. We have come back here to this church to make eucharist which is way more than just saying, “thank you.” It is an act of adoration and an act of incorporation into mercy itself. That one man speaks to us with a message of mercy and its power to heal and restore what is broken in every relationship. Try it. He is a witness to the truth that when we are open and willing to do what Jesus asks, we will receive more than we can imagine. 

October 2, 2022 at Saint Agnes, St William, & St. Peter Parishes in Naples, FL

Habakkuk 1, 2-3, 3, 2-4 + Psalm 95 + 2 Timothy 1,6-8 13-14 + Luke 17:5-10

There is quite a complicated set of images in this Gospel. The disciples beg Jesus to increase their faith, because they have just begun to realize what he expects of them. Then, he calms them down just a little with that mustard seed image suggesting that they need not think the task is really too great for them. Just a little something will get it all started. Then he comes up with that parable to suggest that just because they have done that little bit it will be over and that will be enough. In the words of the parable, “When you have finished in the fields and brought in the sheep, don’t think you’re done. Get to the kitchen and dining room and serve up the dinner.” 

As Jesus speaks to us in here today, he is reminding us that it is easy to be a fake follower of Christ. It’s easy to think that all we have to do is show up for Mass, sing, listen, go to communion, through in an envelope or some lose change, and maybe stay till the closing hymn, and we’re in. We look like good disciples and people going by will see the parking lot and think, “Wow, look at all those good Catholics”. But this gospel says, “No” to that. After you’ve done all those things every weekend, there is more to do because discipleship requires action and conversion and the engagement of mind and heart. It’s what we do because we have been at Mass in communion, listening to God’s Word that makes us real disciples. There is nothing fake about action or service in the name of Christ.

However, herein lies the problem that brings the conflict between Jesus and the Pharisees. They are all about action – about keeping the law and the traditions of Israel, but they do that without faith thinking that just doing things is all that is required. Jesus points out on more than one occasion that doing the right without the right interior transformation becomes a parody of righteousness. It’s a joke. It’s a lie. Doing the right thing because you are worried about what someone else might think or say is the wrong thing. The laws and traditions of Israel existed for one reason: to give glory to the God on whom one had set their heart. Without that action of the heart, righteous activity serves only one purpose to glory to the one doing the action.

My friends, discipleship is what we were created for, and the Gospel is our instruction book on how to be what God created us to be. When we choose to follow Jesus Christ, we choose an active life that can feel very new and different, but it isn’t. It is a restoration of the life for which we were originally made.

This Gospel today must both restore our hope and renew our courage to never give up in the face of what is asked of us and what we see is needed all around us. Like the apostles, we might well cry out: “Increase our Faith.” The image of that mustard seed must stay with us trusting that God will bless and multiply our efforts.

We look around and sense the political despair that is everywhere. Because of that despair what happens? People don’t vote, and so unqualified candidates win close elections and legislate poor public policy. But, a one grieving mother loses a child to a drunk driver and starts a national coalition of mother mothers again drunk driving called; “MADD”. A Swedish girl calls for a student strike to protest in action on climate change, and millions of young people support her worldwide. A little lady in Calcutta decides that no one should die alone, and a world-wide community of sisters is born to comfort the dying poor. A young boy out in the wilderness gives up his lunch of two fish and some bread. What happens?  5000 people get fed.

What we have here is summed up in Paul’s letter to Timothy which we just heard: “Stir into flame the gift God gave you” Remember those days when the vision of faith set your heart on fire and understand that glowing embers are still all we need to get the fire burning once again. In the opening prayer I offered in the name of this assembly, I said and I meant, “God, never fail to stir up our faith so that its power become visible in our lives.” Someone planted the seed of faith in every one of our heats. It is yearning to sprout anew in this world. Jesus believe that. So can we.

September 25, 2022 at Saint Agnes, St William, & St. Peter Parishes in Naples, FL

Amos 6, 1, 4-7 + Psalm 146 + 1 Timothy 6,11-16 + Luke 16:19-31

This is a complex and troubling parable. I’ve always been disturbed by that man who even after death thinks that Lazarus should serve him. “Send him to my brothers” he says as though nothing has changed. While some may see his concern for his brothers, I find it troubling that he’s only worried about his own family. Oddly, at this point, the rich man has suddenly learned the name of someone he could not see before. 

In the context of Luke’s Gospel, the closer we get to the end, to Jerusalem, and the culmination of his ministry, Jesus begins to focus on the poor and the demands of discipleship. Watch how that happens in the weeks to come this fall. We heard it last week as Jesus spoke about the use of “mammon”, a term that literally means “more than you need.” We will hear it again.

We have to remember that the rich man of this Gospel was not responsible for the condition of Lazarus. No more than most of us have consciously added to the poverty of migrants, refugees, and people living in tents or their cars. This parable has nothing to do with causes. It has to do with hunger, human dignity, respect and tenderness. Notice that the wealthy man remains anonymous. He is recognized and defined by his possessions not by his relationships. He failed to discover what the clever steward discovered in last week’s Gospel. He failed to discover the potential of his wealth watching it become worthless in the face of death. On the other hand, Lazarus gets a name. He is real. He is recognizable. He is not alone, and he enjoys the company of great ones like Abraham and the angles who see him and do not look the other way.

Parables like this are not comforting bed-time stories. They are told by Jesus to wake us up to a new perspective. The first sign that we are hearing the message is that it makes us uncomfortable. When we allow that to happen, the next step is to ask ourselves what we are to do about it. One certain sign that we have found a good answer is that there are changes for the better, for everyone and especially for the poor. Jesus did not go around giving people guilt trips, but rather he tries to stretch our imaginations and challenge our creativity over how to bring the dream God has for this world into reality. The issue is not that the wealthy are wealthy. The issue is often how the wealthy achieved that wealth and their unconcern for justice on behalf of those in need. 

It is a very observable fact that riches, comforts, and the security those things seem to offer draw one’s attention away from God. How else is it possible that in this rich western world we close churches and have so much room in the pews of those churches that remain open? It is probably not our problem since we are here, but the absence of those others should strengthen our resolve to hold fast to the faith and grow deeper into the mystery of our communion with Christ and each other. 

Caring for the poor and even contributing to their aid takes us a step beyond that rich man’s blindness. But prayers and donations do not free us from being trapped behind our doors, gates, and locks like that other rich man. The divine works within the human condition to free all people from whatever binds them. God’s plan with the Incarnation is that our salvation, our hope, our future comes from one like us, one of us. 

The truth is, our time is more limited than our resources. Jesus speaks to us today with a serious reminder of that. In this parable, everyone dies, the rich and the poor. We have now, both time and resources, but they are limited. We can learn each other’s names. We can learn each other’s stories. We can face the fact that we all hunger more for compassion, mercy, and forgiveness more than for food.

The parable today shows the double side of hunger. Those who hunger will be satisfied. Those who fail to respond to the hunger of others will one day hunger for compassion and then meet that face of indifference. Hunger affects us all.