Luke 16: 19-26
The chronically mentally ill person on State Street raves
and rattles a sheaf of papers at passersby. Some of us feel afraid and cross
the street, looking in an attractive store window to soothe ourselves. We wish
the police would do something. A woman walks past the bleary-eyed stranger and
says hello, asks how his day is going. He stops ranting and says hello back,
asks her if she’ll buy a newspaper. She agrees, pays takes the paper, wishes him
a good day, is off to work. He begins ranting again, but his voice is softer
now. In today’s gospel, the author of Luke continues to show us how to see
others. The poor man, named Lazarus, lies at the rich man’s gate, prepared to
receive any crumbs the household would brush his way. Scholars tell us that the
name Lazarus was probably chosen for its meaning as the servant of Abraham and
Sarah, our forebears. Could Luke be asking us to think of Lazarus also as the
representative of the poor and humble everywhere? The rich man leaves his gate
and steps over Lazarus, poor, hungry and sick, probably disgusting-looking, and
goes off to his destination. This is when I begin to squirm. How often do we
hurry on our way to a meeting or the grocery store, failing to see those around
us? We clutch our resources close, our money and our time, and scurry on,
living in a self-centered mentality of scarcity.
Often the suffering and needs of others are visible in areas
of desperate poverty and in war zones; sometimes the needs are less visible, as
in the case of discrimination against groups of people. Luke reminds us first
to see, then to have compassion, allowing our hearts to be melted by our
vision. In that transformed state, we are asked to act on behalf of those who
need our help. Crossing the road and looking away from the beating victim, stepping
over and not seeing the beleaguered Lazarus, leaving the widowed woman alone to
perish; these are all examples of stepping over the outcasts Luke calls us to
consider. Who are the outcasts we overlook today? Quickly name to yourself the
groups of people, the situations, you’d rather not notice. How do we keep our
eyes open, see and be transformed through compassion, and act? What small
actions may make a difference?
