My Lazarus

If you attended Holy Mass in the ordinary form of the Roman rite today, you listened to the Gospel from Luke 16:19-31, which tells the parable of the rich man and Lazarus and their contrasting experiences in this world and the next. How many times have I heard or read this story during my lifetime? I honestly couldn't tell you. Many, many times. And I think my reaction has always been pretty much the same.

How sad. Sad that Lazarus had to suffer so much during his life on earth. Sad that the rich man was too blind or selfish or preoccupied not to do something about it. Sad that he sentenced himself to an eternity of suffering with no means of reversal. Sad that no amount of warning could make some men choose the path to Heaven.

And then a generic twinge of guilt reminding me to be a better follower of Christ.

Ho hum.

This morning the Gospel hit me like a thunderbolt. For the first time, I clearly saw the Lazarus in my life, the person covered with sores and aching for a few scraps from my table. For the first time, I clearly saw that I am the rich man, too blind, too selfish, too preoccupied to do something about it.

Sure, I've got plenty of excuses for why I fail to take care of my Lazarus. And sometimes they even sound pretty good. But if I am truly honest with myself, I know that they will all sound like nothing but dung when I stand before God.

Today's Gospel is not simply a story about the need for social justice. It is my story. It is the story of a rich person who is failing to love Lazarus. Thankfully, unlike the rich man in the Gospel, I have been granted a warning this side of eternity.

Oh, that I might heed that warning, change my heart and its ways, and embrace dear Lazarus. Lord, please help me.