And lying at the door was a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who would gladly have eaten his fill of the scraps that fell from the rich man’s table. Dogs even used to come and lick his sores.
(Luke 16:20-21)
Who is my Lazarus, Lord? Is there someone right outside my door that I am refusing to notice? Sadly, yes. I cannot put off a visit any longer. Loneliness is a painful hunger, and I do not feel lonely. Therefore, I need to tend to those who do. Please help me.
In the story of the rich man and the beggar, the dogs had more compassion than the humans. Why is it that the privileged feel that they can enslave those who have less? Even in the netherworld, the rich man expects Lazarus to come and serve him. Now, though, it is Lazarus who is rich. I wonder if he would have crossed the chasm to wait on the one now suffering if it had been possible. Once we have suffered, if you grant us the grace, we can reach out to those who are needy. I pity those who have not been tried before the loss and pain of age beset them. The first time they meet misfortune, they are devastated. Can we learn to be merciful if we have not needed mercy?
The rich man, at the end, shows some concern, at least for his family. He wants to spare them his fate. Ironically, Abraham tells him, “If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.” (Luke 16:31)
Those who would not listen to you, our Savior, during your earthly ministry, will not be converted by your Resurrection. Now is the only time we have. Please help us to take advantage of it. I will make that visit.