When I was young, I was convinced i understood this parable. The Rich man, or Dives, as we used to call him, went to hell because he refused to feed the poor man, over whom he would step each time he went home for dinner.
And I was right. But, not completely… as growing older has often taught me.
For, what if the rich man had simply slipped Lazarus a $10 bill each time he saw him. Maybe dropped it from his pocket as he walked over him on the way to dinner. Would that have made all the difference?
Well, it certainly would have made Lazarus $70 richer each week, and maybe even a little less hungry. But there’s something more going on here. For while Jesus tells us that Lazarus would have gladly eaten the scraps from the rich man’s table, was Dive’s only sin that he did not feed the poor man?
No. His real sin was that he did not love Lazarus. Not enough to feed him, to listen to him, to care for him and to recognize in him another human being. To see Jesus in him and to love him as a brother.
For you see, sometimes I am tempted to give the poor man five bucks to salve my conscience and to make him go away. Congratulating myself all the way home on how generous I was. But did I really love Lazarus?
Did I listen to Lazarus with love, to help him get on Mass Health, to see beyond the smell and the craziness, and look into the eyes of a person not unlike myself (there but for the grace of God go I), and to love him as a son and a brother.
That’s what Lazarus failed to do. And that’s why he went to hell.
