26th Sunday in Ordinary Time, C September 25, 2022
Fr. Alexander Albert St. John the Evangelist, Jeanerette
There’s not much room for soft balling here: Jesus talks about caring for the poor so much and there’s only so many ways to rephrase it. So, I’ll keep it pretty straightforward. Care for the poor or you will go to hell. The rich man didn’t kill anyone. It doesn’t say that he lied or stole or cheated or commit adultery or skip church. It simply says he was rich and comfortable while Lazarus was poor. Then he goes to hell.
What does it mean to be rich? This man dined sumptuously each day and he dressed in nice clothing. This isn’t only a condemnation for people with superyachts and mansions. By comparison with all of human history, we are incredibly well off. Most of us have plenty of food and clothing and a place to live. Even today, almost half the population of the planet lives on less than $6 a day. Could you do that?
So, we should pay attention to Jesus’ warning because we fit that category of “rich” more easily than we realize. Why, then, is this so bad? In the parable, Abraham seems to suggest it’s about balance. The rich man had good things in this life, so he gets bad things in the next. Lazarus had bad things in this life, so he gets good things in the next. It’s as if God wants everyone to get both and we just need to make sure we take the bad first so we can get the good later.
Obviously, it’s not that simple but there is a real point being made here. Balance – or maybe we should say justice – is something God really does care about. One of the more common reasons that people reject the idea of God is because he seems unfair and unjust, likes things just don’t seem to balance out. And well, if all you know about is this world, you’d be right. This life is not fair, is not just, is not balanced. This parable actually makes two very important points. One is that we should love the poor or risk hellfire. The other is that God’s divine Justice can only be seen if you look at both worlds: this life and the next. And that’s the danger of wealth.
Money, wealth – even just a little of it – tends to keep our focus on this world. Our bodies and minds are wired to respond to basic rewards. Food satisfies hunger and tastes good so we keep eating. Cold air feels good when it’s hot outside so that we avoid weather that could kill us. Physical pleasure motivates us to form bonds with others and reproduce to keep humanity going. Because it takes care of these needs and more, having wealth often registers in our minds as “job well done.” We see and feel this success and so easily forget that there is more to reality than what we can see. Ironically, wealth can even blind us to things in this world. Lazarus lay at the door of this man’s home, but wasn’t noticed. The rich man was so in the habit of comfort that he naturally redirected his attention from anything uncomfortable, like Lazarus’ needs.
This world is broken. Our basic instincts still contribute to survival, but they are too easily fooled. These instincts can be hijacked to reward things that are actually bad for us and our survival. Big tech companies quite literally hire neuroscientists and psychologists to help them design programs and devices to manipulate our brain’s reward system. That’s why TVs, videos, games, and smartphones are so addictive. They were designed to make us feel like we’ve succeeded without requiring us to actually succeed. This is not a new problem. Worldly wealth and power having been doing this since Adam and Eve. That broken reward cycle makes it harder to see what’s truly good in this world and impossible to see the truth about the world to come.
Getting past that requires a fight. That’s why St. Paul tells us to “compete well” in our second reading. Actually, what he says is “fight the good fight,” but we got stuck with this bad translation – we hope to get that translation fixed in the next few years. Now, you’ve probably heard that phrase: “fight the good fight” – people use it all the time to talk about dealing with difficult situations. This is where it comes from. The original difficult situation is seeing the truth clearly. We have to fight to believe that injustice in this life will be made right in the next.
This is the “noble confession” Paul tells Timothy to hold onto. He gives the example of the “noble confession” of Jesus before Pontius Pilate and calls him “to keep the commandment without stain or reproach.” What commandment? Love of God and neighbor unto eternal life. Pontius Pilate represents the world that doesn’t believe in ultimate justice or truth because of what they see in the world. They look at Jesus and his followers and see only a mess, confusion, and suffering. They cannot see how greatly eternal life outweighs the good things of this world so they would rather kill Jesus than lose their power and money.
But we want them to know the truth. So someone has to “confess” the truth to them, not just with words but with actions. Someone has to be living proof that it’s possible to disregard or even throw away good things in this life in order to gain eternal life. They need our “noble confession” of self-sacrifice, simplicity, and inexplicable joy. By truly following Christ, we find great happiness and reward in this life even while we’re deprived of the things others think of as rewards. It is a spiritual joy that short-circuits the broken reward cycles of sin. But this requires a fight, a daily commitment to grow in virtue, in good habits built not on rewards, but on deep trust in God’s commands and design.
So, we fight to not settle for a good meal, a warm bed, and some fun. We have to fight to see the dignity and beauty in every person, especially the poor. Let’s not romanticize it; sometimes the poor are very difficult to love. Sometimes they’re poor for a reason. But we have to love them anyway. That’s why Jesus so insistently reminds us of this duty. It’s why Moses and the prophets before him reminded us of this duty. Because, if we let the corrupted logic, the unreliable wealth and rewards of this world take hold of our hearts and minds, even someone rising from the dead might not be enough to break through the intoxication of wealth. Someone did rise from the dead! But would the world be able to tell that from the way we live? Fight the good fight of faith. We often need money, yes, but we should treat it like we treat it like the poison it is, used only when necessary and kept out of reach as much as possible. Fight against the dangers of your own wealth, fight for your own salvation. Do it by caring for the poor.