Of the Lord’s parables, today’s is the only one in which a character is given a name. The poor man’s name is Lazarus. The rich man is nameless but tradition calls him Dives (Latinfor rich). Dives is a figure of indolent self-indulgence. He dressed in regal purple and linen, lived in a huge house where he feasted daily on a grand scale. In contrast to this luxury, we find misery at the door of Dives. Lazarus was an outcast—poor, starving and emaciated. Adding to his misery is the fact that he was so weak that he could not ward off the dogs who licked the sores that covered his body. He could only hope to eat the scraps of bread discarded from the Dives’ table.
We then move from this earthly scene to the hereafter where we find Lazarus in glory and Dives in torment. (Quite a surprise to Dives because he was most likely a Sadducee. He did not believe in the afterlife.) We should not be surprised that even after death, Dives remains unchanged. He who lived an opulent life still insists on being helped and demands what is to his benefit. “Send Lazarus here to cool my tongue.” When this is refused, he wants Lazarus to be sent to his brothers as a forewarning.”
This parable had to surely rattle the mentality of Our Lord’s listeners. Their understanding was that the riches were a reward from God for an upright life. Poverty was a punishment for a sinful life. Our Lord would have his listeners reexamine this thinking.
Pondering this parable, John Paul II asks: “Was the rich man condemned because he had riches, because he dressed in purple and linen and feasted splendidly every day? No!...The rich man was condemned because he failed to take notice of Lazarus…at his door. Nowhere does Christ condemn the mere possessions of earthly goods as such. Instead, he pronounces very harsh words against those who use their possessions in a selfish way, without paying attention to the needs of others.”
Pope Francis points out that Dives’ sin was his blindness— his inability to look beyond his world, “made of banquets and fine clothing.” He could not see beyond the door of his house where Lazarus lay. He could not see with his eyes because he could not feel with his heart. He was not responsible for Lazarus’ plight but he did nothing to help him. His was a worldliness, Pope Francis says, that “swallowed up” what was good in him” and “extinguished love” in him.
Today we are reminded of the judgment that awaits us at the end of our life. When we find ourselves face to face with God, He won’t ask us how much wealth we have accumulated or how many awards or titles we have received. St. John of the Cross tells us that “in the evening of life we shall we judged on love alone.” St. Catherine of Siena echoes this when she says that we will be rewarded not according to our work or our time, but according to the measure of our love." Dear Lord, As I consider your parable, help it form my conscience. Open my eyes to see the needs of others. Grant me a compassionate heart to help where it is needed. Help me to be selfless in my giving. May I never be content to leave them just the crumbs from the feast. Grant me the courage to take of my substance, and not just of my abundance, in order. May I never remain indifferent or stand idly by when I see Lazarus at my door for it is this active charity that is the key that opens the door to heaven.