Sunday, September 25, 2022

Homily for 26th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Homily for the
26th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Sept. 25, 2022
Luke 16: 19-31
St. Francis Xavier, Bronx
Our Lady of the Assumption, Bronx

“There was a rich man who … dined sumptuously each day.  And lying at his door was a poor man named Lazarus” (Luke 16: 19-20).

(by Gustave Dore')

The parable that Jesus tells today is addressed to the Pharisees.  Last week he addressed a parable to his disciples about a dishonest steward who was called to account for mismanaging his employer’s property (16:1).  Jesus followed that parable with a warning about loving money more than God, about serving wealth rather than God (16:13).

In the verses between that warning and today’s parable, the Pharisees reacted to the warning by mocking Jesus because, St. Luke tells us, they “were lovers of money” (16:14).  Jesus refutes them with the parable of Lazarus and the rich man about the misuse of wealth.

The rich man doesn’t have a name.  He’s often called Dives, the Latin word for “rich.”  We’d say he’s filthy rich.  He wears purple garments, the most expensive clothing known to the ancient world.  He wears fine linen—one commentator says this refers to his undergarments.[1]  He dines sumptuously every day, which means he compels his household staff to work even on the Sabbath.  He’s no observer of Torah.

While the Pharisees liked to think that wealth was a sign of God’s favor, Dives is offending God by the way he flaunts his wealth.  Worse, he ignores the poor man at his gate.  It’s not just that Lazarus is poor; he’s “covered with sores” (16:20), in need of medical care.  He’s desperately hungry (16:21).  In this too Dives violates Torah, which commands care for one’s neighbor in need.

Dives knows he’s there, even knows his name, which he uses when speaking to Abraham (16:24).  But he takes better care of his dogs than of Lazarus, for they enjoy scraps from his table, and Lazarus gets nothing.  In fact, the dogs treat Lazarus with a compassion the rich man lacks.  They attend to his sores in the way they know how.

Both men die.  Lazarus is carried to heaven by the angels, “to the bosom of Abraham” (16:22).  In ancient Israel people reclined at a dinner on couches, and the favored place at a banquet was at the host’s right.  Thus Lazarus is next to Abraham, at his bosom.  This is the same post held by the Beloved Disciple at the Last Supper, close enuf to lean on Jesus and ask who was going to betray him (John 13:23-26).

We’re not told why Lazarus was carried to heaven.  It’s not because of his poverty, his poor health, or his hunger.  These aren’t virtues.  We surmise it’s because of his patience, which in some ways resembles the patience of Job.  He seems to have put his trust in God, which is implicit in his name; Lazarus means “God is my helper.”  Certainly he needed God’s help, because he got nothing from his neighbor.

We can note, too, that in all of Jesus’ parables, Lazarus is the only character with a name.  No one in the Good Samaritan has a personal name, nor in the Prodigal Son, the Workers in the Vineyard, last week’s Dishonest Steward, etc.  So perhaps we’re to pay attention to God’s helping him to attain the blessings in eternity that were cruelly denied to him on earth.  God proves to be his helper in the end after human beings have failed him.

Dives, however, was doomed to the torments of hell, reversing all the blessings he enjoyed selfishly in this life.  He was but the steward to what God had given him, and like last week’s steward he squandered his master’s property (16:1).  His example proves that you can’t serve both God and money.  Dives chose money:  purple garments, fine linen, sumptuous banquets.

We often hear a criticism of the doctrine of hell:  if God is so good, how can he condemn anyone to hell, to eternal torture, as portrayed in the fate of the rich man?  God in his goodness is warning us about conduct that leads to hell, to eternal alienation from God’s goodness.  Dives was alienated from his neighbor in need, and now that he’s in need, he shows not a spark of repentance.  He asks for the pity that he denied Lazarus on earth, and he wants Lazarus to come and wait on him—bring me a drop of water!  Be my messenger boy to my brothers.  What chutzpah!  There’s no sign of sorrow for his own behavior, just an expectation that Abraham and Lazarus should do his bidding like his household servants. He chose a hellish life, and, unrepentant, he continues a hellish life.

Jesus tells the doomed rich man—and the Pharisees, who love money—that if people would listen to Moses and the prophets (16:29)—like Amos today and last week—listen to all the teachings of the Scriptures, like today’s responsorial psalm (146:7-10), they would take care of their neighbors and would reach Abraham, God’s friend.  St. Luke adds a note about one risen from the dead (16:30-31), which alludes to Jesus, of course.  Jesus showed compassion for the sick, the poor, and sinners willing to hear God’s word and be converted.  Therefore God the Father raised Jesus from the dead, as he’ll also raise everyone who listens to the prophets, to the sacred Scriptures, and especially to Jesus himself.



[1] Kenneth E. Bailey, “The Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man,” in Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes: Cultural Studies in the Gospels (Downers Grove, Ill.: IVP Academic, 2008), p. 382.

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