Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C | Dominica hebdomada vigesima sexta (XXVI) « Per annum », Anno C
25 September 2022 in the year of our Lord
1. Do you believe in the existence of hell?
2. What is in your opinion the sin of the rich man?
3. Who are you in this Parable, the rich man or Lazarus?
Lk 16:19-31 Jesus said to the Pharisees: "There was a rich man who dressed in purple garments and fine linen and dined sumptuously each day. And lying at his door was a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who would gladly have eaten his fill of the scraps that fell from the rich man's table. Dogs even used to come and lick his sores. When the poor man died, he was carried away by angels to the bosom of Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried, and from the netherworld, where he was in torment, he raised his eyes and saw Abraham far off and Lazarus at his side. And he cried out, 'Father Abraham, have pity on me. Send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am suffering torment in these flames.' Abraham replied, 'My child, 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. Moreover, between us and you a great chasm is established to prevent anyone from crossing who might wish to go from our side to yours or from your side to ours.' He said, 'Then I beg you, father, send him to my father's house, for I have five brothers, so that he may warn them, lest they too come to this place of torment.' But Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the prophets. Let them listen to them.' He said, 'Oh no, father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.' Then Abraham said, 'If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.'" |
Lk 16:19-31 19 Ἄνθρωπος δέ τις ἦν πλούσιος, καὶ ἐνεδιδύσκετο πορφύραν καὶ βύσσον εὐφραινόμενος καθ’ ἡμέραν λαμπρῶς. 20 πτωχὸς δέ τις ὀνόματι Λάζαρος ἐβέβλητο πρὸς τὸν πυλῶνα αὐτοῦ εἱλκωμένος 21 καὶ ἐπιθυμῶν χορτασθῆναι ἀπὸ τῶν πιπτόντων ἀπὸ τῆς τραπέζης τοῦ πλουσίου· ἀλλὰ καὶ οἱ κύνες ἐρχόμενοι ἐπέλειχον τὰ ἕλκη αὐτοῦ. 22 ἐγένετο δὲ ἀποθανεῖν τὸν πτωχὸν καὶ ἀπενεχθῆναι αὐτὸν ὑπὸ τῶν ἀγγέλων εἰς τὸν κόλπον Ἀβραάμ· ἀπέθανεν δὲ καὶ ὁ πλούσιος καὶ ἐτάφη. 23 καὶ ἐν τῷ ᾅδῃ ἐπάρας τοὺς ὀφθαλμοὺς αὐτοῦ, ὑπάρχων ἐν βασάνοις, ὁρᾷ Ἀβραὰμ ἀπὸ μακρόθεν καὶ Λάζαρον ἐν τοῖς κόλποις αὐτοῦ. 24 καὶ αὐτὸς φωνήσας εἶπεν· πάτερ Ἀβραάμ, ἐλέησόν με καὶ πέμψον Λάζαρον ἵνα βάψῃ τὸ ἄκρον τοῦ δακτύλου αὐτοῦ ὕδατος καὶ καταψύξῃ τὴν γλῶσσάν μου, ὅτι ὀδυνῶμαι ἐν τῇ φλογὶ ταύτῃ. 25 εἶπεν δὲ Ἀβραάμ· τέκνον, μνήσθητι ὅτι ἀπέλαβες τὰ ἀγαθά σου ἐν τῇ ζωῇ σου, καὶ Λάζαρος ὁμοίως τὰ κακά· νῦν δὲ ὧδε παρακαλεῖται, σὺ δὲ ὀδυνᾶσαι. 26 καὶ ἐν πᾶσιν τούτοις μεταξὺ ἡμῶν καὶ ὑμῶν χάσμα μέγα ἐστήρικται, ὅπως οἱ θέλοντες διαβῆναι ἔνθεν πρὸς ὑμᾶς μὴ δύνωνται, μηδὲ ἐκεῖθεν πρὸς ἡμᾶς διαπερῶσιν. 27 εἶπεν δέ· ἐρωτῶ σε οὖν, πάτερ, ἵνα πέμψῃς αὐτὸν εἰς τὸν οἶκον τοῦ πατρός μου, 28 ἔχω γὰρ πέντε ἀδελφούς, ὅπως διαμαρτύρηται αὐτοῖς, ἵνα μὴ καὶ αὐτοὶ ἔλθωσιν εἰς τὸν τόπον τοῦτον τῆς βασάνου. 29 λέγει δὲ Ἀβραάμ· ἔχουσιν Μωϋσέα καὶ τοὺς προφήτας· ἀκουσάτωσαν αὐτῶν. 30 ὁ δὲ εἶπεν· οὐχί, πάτερ Ἀβραάμ, ἀλλ’ ἐάν τις ἀπὸ νεκρῶν πορευθῇ πρὸς αὐτοὺς μετανοήσουσιν. 31 εἶπεν δὲ αὐτῷ· εἰ Μωϋσέως καὶ τῶν προφητῶν οὐκ ἀκούουσιν, οὐδ’ ἐάν τις ἐκ νεκρῶν ἀναστῇ πεισθήσονται. |
Fr John Lankeit's homily :
You may have heard of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola, but not know what they are. The Spiritual Exercises are a compilation of meditations, prayers, and contemplative practices developed by St. Ignatius...to help people deepen their relationship with God.
Ignatius discovered that knowing who God is, and what he’s done for us, is key to deepening our relationship with him. St. John the Evangelist wrote in his Gospel:
...God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God sent the Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him. (Jn 3:16-17)
In his Letter to the Romans, St. Paul helps us understand just how much God loved the world:
...God shows his love for us in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us...For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life. (Rom 5:8, 10)
God didn’t wait for us humans to “get our act together” in order to invite us back into relationship with him. God, in his great merciful love, made the first move—and a response to that love is necessary.
The appropriate human response to God’s loving initiative, then, is summed up in the First Principle and Foundation of the Spiritual Exercises which Ignatius explains this way:
Man is created to praise, reverence, and serve God our Lord, and by this means to save his soul. The other things on the face of the earth are created for man to help him in attaining the end for which he is created. Hence, man is to make use of them in as far as they help him in the attainment of his end, and he must rid himself of them in as far as they prove a hindrance to him. Therefore, we must make ourselves indifferent to all created things, as far as we are allowed free choice and are not under any prohibition. Consequently, as far as we are concerned, we should not prefer health to sickness, riches to poverty, honor to dishonor, a long life to a short life. The same holds for all other things. Our one desire and choice should be what is more conducive to the end for which we are created. (First Principle and Foundation, #23)
Ignatius’ words serve as an excellent jumping off point to reflect on Jesus’ Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus. Ignatius used the world “indifferent” to describe the proper orientation toward created things. Other spiritual giants have referred to this as “holy indifference”.
A synonym for the word “indifferent” is “unconcerned”. Ignatius suggests, then, that we should be unconcerned about such things as whether or not we are healthy, or wealthy or honored. That doesn’t mean we enjoy being sick or poor or dishonored—unless we’re masochists! But what we should prefer is whatever is most beneficial to our relationship with God—even if it’s not what we would choose for ourselves!
Perhaps a personal illustration will help. One night, I awoke around 3AM, my mind reeling with anxiety about parish matters. It was so overwhelming that sleep was impossible.
I went to our rectory chapel to spend time in the Presence of Jesus. I said to him, “Jesus, I don’t know why you’re allowing this trial right now, but I know you, and I know that you’re permitting this for the good of my soul. While I don’t enjoy the suffering, please don’t take it away too soon, because I know I need it!
Sounds really holy, huh?
Well, the truth is that that was probably the first time in my life—let alone in my priesthood—that I had ever said that to the Lord so bluntly...and actually meant it!
Normally, when I’m going through a spiritual trial, I just want the Lord to make it go away. But, over time—and after a lot of grumbling—I’ve discovered the benefit for my spiritual life and, by extension, for my priestly ministry of suffering...well.
Our suffering makes us more compassionate toward others—or at least it should! During times of suffering, I know that I pray more—and more intensely—and am much more aware of my need for God. Being placed in the crucible of suffering trains us to notice and relate to the suffering of others because we’re being taught by God (cf. Jn 6:45).
As soon as the trial eases up, however, I can almost always feel spiritual laziness start to creep in immediately! God knows this particular weakness in my soul, so he sends these trails periodically to toughen me up—to build up my endurance so that it will continue even after the trial has passed.
Suffering reminds us that we can’t go it alone.
Faith reminds us that we don’t have to!
So, applying the Ignatian Principle specifically to this insomnia incident, he might say that it is good for me not to prefer sleep to insomnia, or a trouble-free mind to trial because—while it does lead to physical and mental strain the following day—it also brings me closer to God.
How, then, does this principle of “holy indifference” apply to the parable...and what lessons can we draw from its application?
First of all, we need to pay particular attention to the “un-holy indifference” of the rich man, and the consequences he brought upon himself in the afterlife.
Here, let’s shift focus for a moment and consider an encounter between a religious lawyer and Jesus in Matthew’s Gospel because it will help us understand the parable better:
...one of [the Pharisees], a lawyer, asked him a question, to test him. “Teacher, which is the great commandment in the law?” And he said to him, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it, You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the law and the prophets.” (Mt 22:35-40)
The root sin of the rich man was getting things backwards. Instead of being indifferent to material and physical pleasures so that he could love God and neighbor, he became indifferent to God and neighbor so that he could indulge in material and physical pleasures.
Listen to how Jesus starts his story:
There was a rich man who dressed in purple garments and fine linen and dined sumptuously each day. And lying at his door was a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who would gladly have eaten his fill of the scraps that fell from the rich man’s table. (Lk 16:19-21)
Although Jesus doesn’t go into much detail regarding the rich man’s habits, it’s not hard to imagine him as one of the complacent people in the 1st Reading. The people the Prophet Amos confronted were so focused on themselves, that they were indifferent to the point of blindness to the suffering all around them. Listen to God’s words through the mouth of the prophet:
Woe to the complacent in Zion! Lying upon beds of ivory, stretched comfortably on their couches, they eat lambs taken from the flock, and calves from the stall!... They drink wine from bowls and anoint themselves with the best oils; yet they are not made ill by the collapse of Joseph! (Am 1, 4, 6)
Gluttony...self-indulgence...entitlement...excess...and no concern about the collapse of the good around them. Whereas suffering—accepted as a gift from God— tempers the soul and makes it stronger—pampering oneself by indulging in the pleasures of this world numbs the soul and makes it weaker.
It also kills the conscience!
And then we have the most frightening part of the parable. Even death could not change the rich man’s attitude. Consider his own words: “Father Abraham, have pity on me. Send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am suffering torment in these flames.” (Lk 16:24)
Here’s why this is so frightening. Many people gamble with their salvation, convincing themselves that they can defy God’s laws all their life and then repent right before they die. In other words, they are banking on a deathbed conversion.
The first flaw in this plan is that nobody can answer the question, “When will I die?” except for someone who commits suicide, in which case conversion is clearly missing from the calculation.
The more ominous flaw in the “gambler’s approach to eternity” is the belief that a wholesale change of attitude just before death is even possible—that we are even capable of switching from sinner to saint at a moment’s notice.
The rich man is a perfect example of this reality. He never saw Lazarus as his equal in human dignity while both were alive. Now, in the afterlife, he remains incapable seeing Lazarus any differently in death than he did in life.
The fact is, he never saw Lazarus as a person, but rather as a nuisance or inconvenience to be ignored in this life, and as a servant of his desires in the next. To his great horror, once he passed from this life to the next, none of the rich man’s earthly comforts could quench the burning anguish of permanent exile from God, even though God had consistently made this clear in the Holy Scriptures.
When the rich man—now in torment—called out to Father Abraham for help, Abraham replied:
...between us and you a great chasm is established to prevent anyone from crossing who might wish to go from our side to yours or from your side to ours. (Lk 16:26)
The tendency of the spiritually blind—symbolized by the rich man—is to attribute the establishment of the great chasm—this painful eternal separation from God that we call Hell—to God.
But the chasm is a consequence of human choice, not of God’s cruelty. God so respects our freedom to choose to love him and our neighbor...or not to do so...that he simply gives us what we really want...for eternity.
Breaking the parable down into actions and consequences, we see that the rich man established the chasm between himself and Lazarus by his indifference. He did not love his neighbor. He had the means to help the beggar, but he chose not to. Lazarus wasn’t his problem, or so he convinced himself.
He probably thought, “This guy wants to be here, or he wouldn’t be. Why doesn’t he go get a job? I’ve worked hard for what I’ve got, and I deserve to enjoy it. Lazarus is not my concern.”
The rich man’s indifference was a “double whammy” because, in refusing to even acknowledge Lazarus, he also violated God’s law to love his fellow human being. He didn’t love God enough to obey him and he didn’t love Lazarus enough to even notice him...until it was too late!
So, we can see that Hell is a human choice, and that God simply respects our free will and ratifies our choices.
If there were no Hell, God would be cruel.
If there were no Hell, God would be cruel.
If you don’t see how, then just put yourself in Lazarus’ place and imagine what you would think of a God who did not hold the rich man responsible either in this life or the afterlife for his unholy indifference.
God is love (1 Jn 4:8) precisely because God is just.
The rich man’s injustice toward God and his fellow human being established the chasm in this life. God’s justice in the afterlife simply confirmed the rich man’s choices. Our free will—and God’s total respect for it—is what makes the chasm un-crossable. In other words, our eternal fate—Heaven or Hell—is permanent.
St. Paul’s warning to the Galatians is particularly pertinent here:
Do not be deceived; God is not mocked, for whatever a man sows, that he will also reap. For he who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption; but he who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life. And let us not grow weary in well doing, for in due season we shall reap, if we do not lose heart. So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all men, and especially to those who are of the household of faith. (Gal 6:7-10)
If we don’t want to experience a foretaste Heaven now, by going to Mass, praying every day, and Confessing our sins frequently, then we won’t taste anything but the bitterness of our indifference toward God...for eternity.
If we don’t return a portion of the material gifts that God has given us now—out of gratitude for his generosity to us poor beggars—then we won’t magically start to appreciate him after death.
If we don’t demonstrate our love for others—beyond the circle of our family and friends—by our actions now, then we won’t start to care about them after death.
If we don’t want Heaven now, we won’t want it later.
Bottom line: Which side of the chasm we end up on is entirely up to us.
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