What goes around comes around

There’s a story about an old man who lived with his son and his wife and their children. The old man was almost deaf and blind, and he had a hard time eating his meals without spilling his food and making a mess at the table. Occasionally, he’d drop a bowl and break it. Finally his son and daughter-in-law became so disgusted that they made the old man eat by himself in a corner beside the stove, and they served him in a wooden bowl that couldn’t be broken.

One day the old man's young grandson was working with some pieces of wood, hollowing them out with a chisel. When his father asked him what he was doing, the boy replied, "I'm making a trough for you and mom to eat out of when I'm all grown up." From that day on, grandfather rejoined the family at the table, and no one ever said another word about it.

I offer that story because it pretty well captures the theme of our scripture readings this morning, and in fact pretty much the message of Christ’s ministry. What goes around comes around. The way we treat other people is the way we will be treated. It’s true within the family. It’s true within our daily lives, and it’s true in our life to come.

In the first reading, the prophet Amos laments the complacency of the leaders of Israel to the misfortunes of those in need around them, even as their kingdom was in danger. Amos warns that they will pay the price for their arrogance and indifference. And they did, dragged into exile by the Assyrians and the Babylonians.

In the second reading Paul counsels Timothy, the bishop of the Church in Ephesus, to keep the faith, rather than pursuing the riches of this world - to “pursue righteousness, devotion, faith, love, patience, and gentleness” in order to remain worthy when Christ returns in judgment.

And then we come to the familiar story of Lazarus and the rich man. Lazarus lived an earthly life of abject misery and poverty, lying at the threshold of the rich man’s house, dying for the scraps from the rich man’s table. And the rich man enjoyed a life of self-indulgence, opulence, and excess. Then they die, and suddenly their places are reversed. It’s easy to read this parable simply as a morality tale about riches and poverty. After all, the Beatitudes tell us “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” But the message of this parable is a bit more complex.

The rich man’s sin wasn’t being rich. Being blessed by God with wealth and prosperity doesn’t make us sinners, any more than being poor makes us holy. The rich man’s sin was being indifferent to the poor man lying on his threshold, a man whose name he even knew. His sin was one of omission - he didn’t mistreat Lazarus, kick him, or have him removed. He simply ignored his existence. St. Augustine described sin as ”being caved in on ourselves,” and that’s the sin Jesus warns of in this parable, the sin of self-absorption and apathy to the plight of the poor man at our doorstep. Christ is telling us to pay attention, to wake up and look beyond ourselves, lest we miss our opportunity for salvation. Pope Francis put it pretty well: “If in the eyes of the world the poor have little value, they are the ones who open to us the way to heaven; they are our passport to paradise.” That’s the point the rich man missed - his path to salvation was lying on his very doorstep the whole time, and he failed to recognize it until too late. And that’s the true message of what Jesus is telling us - we neglect our duty to the poor at our own peril, at the risk of our eternal salvation.

Abraham told the rich man, ”If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.” But someone DID rise from the dead, and we have been called to live lives of intentional faith, to take intentional actions in big ways and in small, because the welfare of all our brothers and sisters is our business.

Poverty isn’t just about money - it’s about being voiceless, invisible, and ignored. We all have seen Lazarus. We can find him all around us, if we only open our eyes to see. He’s lying on newspapers outside business doorways in our big cities. He’s living under the I-10 overpass, or sitting next to his shopping cart down on Bienville Square. His picture’s in the brochures put out by Catholic Charities and Food for the Poor. He’s on the newscast pressing against the wire mesh in a migrant detention center. And sometimes he’s knocking on our car window, asking us for gas money or a few dollars for food.

So what CAN we do? A parish church not far from here was badly in need of repair. So the pastor called a special meeting inside the Church to try to raise funds. At the meeting the pastor explained the need for emergency funds to patch the roof, plaster the ceiling and the supporting pillars, and the other areas that needed repair. He then asked for pledges of contributions. After a minute went by Mr. Murphy, the richest man in the parish, volunteered he would give 50 dollars. Just as he sat down, a hunk of plaster fell from the ceiling and hit Mr. Murphy on the head. He immediately jumped up looking terribly startled and corrected himself: “I meant to say 500 dollars.” The congregation sat there silent and stunned, and then a lone voice cried out from the back: “Oh Lord, hit him again!”

For some of us, it’s as simple as writing a bigger check than we really want to, like Mr. Murphy, and that’s great. But in any event, we are all rich enough to share our blessings with others in need. Each of us has special talents, resources, or free time we can share. I invite you to take a harder look at the Time, Talent, and Treasure survey next month to see how you can better serve our brothers and sisters. And think about joining us in the Life Chain next Sunday to witness for the thousands of voiceless babies being sacrificed through abortion. Maybe your Lazarus is an aging relative who gets lost in conversations, but is aching for a visit or a phone call. Or the old woman down the street who can’t get out to the grocery store. The point is, If we open our eyes and our hearts, we’ll quickly find the opportunities that Christ puts before us to actively live our faith every day.

Christ is calling us to lives of active faith to bring us to salvation. It’s time to step outside ourselves, because where we go hereafter depends on what we “go after” here. Our choices each and every day shape our moral character and help determine whether we’ll be dining on fine china in the heavenly banquet at the end of our days, or gulping down swill from a crude wooden trough of our own design.