A Word for the 22nd Sunday After Pentecost

In today’s Gospel, beloved brothers and sisters, our Lord Jesus Christ Himself depicts the visible inequality of people’s condition and life in this present, temporal life, and, correspondingly, the inequality of people’s lot in the other, endless life beyond the grave. This Gospel is, in the highest degree, instructive for all of us, for people of every condition and rank. Let us follow it from beginning to end. It speaks of a certain rich man, whose name is not mentioned, and of a certain beggar, named Lazarus. Attend, then, for the Lord says: «there was a certain rich man who was clothed in purple and fine linen and fared sumptuously every day. But there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, full of sores, who was laid at his gate, desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the rich man’s table. Moreover the dogs came and licked his sores. So it was that the beggar died, and was carried by the angels to Abraham’s bosom. The rich man also died and was buried. And being in torments in Hades, he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom. Then he cried and said: father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am tormented in this flame. But Abraham said: son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is comforted and you are tormented. And besides all this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed, so that those who want to pass from here to you cannot, nor can those from there pass to us. Then he said: I beg you, father, that you would send him to my father’s house, for I have five brothers, that he may testify to them, lest they also come to this place of torment. Abraham said to him: they have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them. And he said: no, father Abraham; but if one goes to them from the dead, they will repent. But he said to him: if they do not hear Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one rise from the dead» (Lk 16:19-31). With this today’s Gospel reading ends.

Who, then, was this ill-fated rich man, this luxury-loving reveler, who inherited eternal torment? Judging by the fact that he calls Abraham father, and that he and his brothers knew the writings of Moses and the prophets, it must be supposed that the rich man was of Jewish descent and law, a descendant of Abraham. In what did his sin consist, his guilt, for which he fell so unexpectedly into hell? The Gospel says that he was rich; but, without doubt, it was not his wealth that was the cause of the fearsome torments the rich man endured in hell; Abraham too was, in his own time, a very wealthy man, but wealth did not prevent him from being a friend of God, because he was hospitable to strangers, and was, in everything, faithful and obedient to God; it is said further that he was clothed in purple and fine linen—that is, truly royally—and fared sumptuously every day. It would seem there is no particular fault in this either; for a rich man, who has thousands, and perhaps millions, of money and vast estates, why should he not dress in silk and velvet—and in our own day this is not even considered a particular luxury, though fine linen was especially costly in that time. It is said further that he feasted sumptuously every day, meaning he ate and drank and made merry with his friends and flatterers; but even in our own enlightened age, frequent feasts and costly dinners are much in use, and those who give them do not think that they are gravely sinning by this and will fall into hell, especially if they do not forget the poor. Let us go further, in search of the fault of the luxury-loving rich man. What does the Gospel say next? There was also a certain beggar named Lazarus, who lay at his gate, full of sores, and desired to be fed with the crumbs falling from the rich man’s table, and the dogs came and licked his sores. Here, then, is the rich man’s true fault, the one that makes even his luxurious dress and his daily, lavish feasts culpable: this fault is hardheartedness and unmercifulness toward the poor, arising in him from a passion for luxury and extravagance, for an idle and merry life. At his very gate lived poor Lazarus, full of sores—a poor man whose very sight and condition ought to have stirred compassion and mercy, ought to have called the rich man to help him; but the rich man, even seeing him, acts as though he does not see him, and shows him not the slightest compassion: he is occupied with his own feasts; the dogs are more compassionate than he—they come and lick Lazarus’s festering sores. Lazarus longed to be fed with the crumbs from the rich man’s table, meaning that from the rich man’s lavish table he was given nothing at all. It was for this hardheartedness and unmercifulness that the rich man was sent, after death, into hell; while Lazarus, for his suffering, his uncomplaining patience, his honest poverty and deprivation, was counted worthy of Abraham’s bosom, of eternal rest and blessedness. What lesson does this picture of the rich man and the poor man give us, this description of their life and condition on earth and their fate immediately after death? First, the lesson that wealth and poverty, health and sickness, merriment and sorrow—everything here soon passes and vanishes, but people’s deeds, their vices and virtues, do not die, but pass together with them into eternity, and there either justify or condemn them before the Judge of all human thoughts and deeds, and either bring them into paradise, or cast them down into the abysses of the underworld hell, from which there will be no way out forever. And so, beloved brothers and sisters, let us not be hardhearted and unmerciful toward the poor, when we ourselves have sufficient means; let us not grow proud in our wealth and abundance, but let us share, according to our own strength, with the poor, so that, should we ourselves ever come to lack in good deeds, they might receive us into the eternal dwellings, according to the words of our Savior. See how, immediately after the death of Lazarus and the rich man, the fate and condition of each is suddenly reversed! The beggar died, and was carried by the angels to Abraham’s bosom. What honor, what love from the heavenly beings toward him! They carry him and escort him into paradise, as one of their own fellow citizens—the heavenly Angels, these faithful friends of people faithful to God. The rich man also died and was buried. And being in torments in Hades, he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom. What a sight! Lazarus—the beggar, the sick man, once despised by the rich man—now in a place of light, of coolness, of blessedness, while the rich man himself is in hell, in torments, with no help from anywhere. And where are his fellow revelers and flatterers now? Perhaps they too are in hell? You know what follows next: the rich man asked Abraham to send Lazarus, that he might dip the tip—only the tip—of his finger in water and cool his tongue, that pleasure-loving tongue, now fearfully burning and parched. But even this is refused the rich man. It is true that Abraham calls him son, just as the former rich man had called him father—but this title, son, served only as a reproach to the rich man, who had not done the deeds of Abraham—his self-restraint and his hospitality to strangers. What, then, is the reason for the refusal of even a single drop of water? It is that the rich man received his good things in his lifetime, and Lazarus his evil things. What good things of his own? Those which he counted as good—that is, he ate, drank, dressed elegantly, made merry, but gave no thought to God and to pleasing Him, did no good deeds, and so lived like a dumb beast, taking no care for his immortal soul. Consequently—for what he lived, that he received; what he counted as his own good, in that he took his fill; for eternity he prepared nothing, no good deeds at all; he acquired no desire and no need for spiritual and eternal blessings; he showed himself a stranger to love for God and neighbor—he has no business in paradise, where there is room only for the righteous and for those who love God and one another with a pure love; Lazarus, however, in the furnace of sickness and deprivation, was cleansed of his sins, and bore, in his very sickness and deprivation, the punishment for them; and for this, says Abraham, he is comforted here, while you are tormented.

See how suddenly the roles of each were reversed, and this immediately after the death of each of them: how inconstant, how fragile, how untrustworthy everything earthly is! How constant and eternal, by contrast, is virtue, and its reward! Further, Abraham presents to the rich man yet another reason why Lazarus cannot come to him, the former rich man, even with the smallest comfort—a mere drop of water on a fingertip—namely, that between those confined in hell and those dwelling in paradise a gulf has been fixed, forever impassable. This must have struck the rich man with a new terror of hopelessness for any mercy, a terror of despair, and he now asks Abraham, not for himself, but for his own brothers, that Abraham would send Lazarus to them, to testify to the real existence of hell and of eternal torment in its flame, and to the existence of paradise—the eternal dwelling and place of joy for those who have lived holily, or who have borne punishment for their sins and repented. But even this is refused the former rich man; instead he is told that his brothers should hear Moses and the prophets—that is, should read and fulfill their writings. The rich man again entreats Abraham for the same thing, and is again refused, on the grounds that even the dead will not persuade them of the existence of eternal torments and eternal life, if they will not hear Moses and the prophets, who spoke by the Holy Spirit. A good, instructive lesson for all our present-day foolish wise men, who do not believe in the existence of human souls after death, in the real existence of eternal fire, and in the eternity of the torments of unrepentant sinners and of the blessedness to come. They too would wish that the dead might come to them more often, and assure them of the truth of what is said in the Gospel—but the dead will not come to them to confirm what eternal Truth itself, Christ our God, has already spoken once for all; and if they wish to change their manner of thinking and living, and to attain eternal life, let them diligently read and hear the Gospel and fulfill what is written in it. Here, then, is a brief discourse on today’s Gospel. Reflect upon what is written in it, and believe with your whole heart everything written there. For not one iota will pass away from what Truth itself, Christ, has spoken, and all will be fulfilled. Amen.