Most of us have heard of C. S. Lewis, the author of The Chronicles of Narnia and one of the
most creative and insightful Christian authors of the twentieth century. In one of Lewis’s books, The Great Divorce, he describes a fictional visit to heaven by the
souls of various people from hell. They then
have the opportunity to turn away from the sins that led them to hell in the
first place. Not all take advantage of
this second chance, however, because some were shaped to the core of their
being by ways of thinking and acting that turned them away from God, other
people, and their own true selves. Their damnation was not the result of an
arbitrary judgment; instead, it was a reflection of the reality of who they had
become by their own choices.
The rich
man in today’s gospel text reminds me of those poor souls in The Great Divorce, for his habit of
indulging himself and totally disregarding a miserable beggar on his door step
shaped him so decisively. He wore only outrageously expensive clothes and had a
great feast every day. He must have
known about the poor beggar Lazarus. He
probably stepped over or around him every time he went in or out of his house. Here was a desperately poor man, lying on
the ground, whose only comfort was the stray dogs who would lick his open
sores. All that Lazarus wanted were the
crumbs that fell from the man’s table, you might say his garbage. But the rich
man was so greedy and thoughtless that he apparently denied him even that. Our Lord is quite clear about what such a
life does to human beings. This man showed no mercy; compassion and love had no
place in his life. Consequently, he cut
himself off from the mercy, compassion, and love of God.
His
eternal suffering shows the reality of what it means to refuse to respond to
our calling to live as those created in God’s image and likeness. This man would not be like God in any
way. He showed what he thought of God by
treating his neighbor, surely one of “the least of these” who also bore the
divine image and likeness, literally like trash. And when he called for mercy from Father
Abraham, he made no confession and did no repentance. He cared only for himself and his brothers,
and obviously had no concern for obeying Moses and prophets who had made clear
the obligation of the Jews to care for the poor. Like the sick souls described
in The Great Divorce, this man would
surely run in terror from the presence of an infinitely righteous God. As Lewis suggested, perhaps we may think of the
gates of hell as being locked on the inside.
As we say
in the prayers of the Church, we will all need mercy before the judgment seat
of Christ. We err, however, if we think
of the Lord’s mercy as being available only in some arbitrary way at some point
in eternity. For we encounter Him every
day in our neighbors, especially the poor, wretched, and inconvenient: the widow, the orphan, and the stranger. We participate in His mercy by showing mercy
to them. The rich man in the parable
shaped himself decisively in unholy ways by his behavior; in contrast, we may
shape ourselves decisively in holy ways by our behavior. We never earn God’s mercy, but we will
ultimately make offerings of our lives to God or to something else. We will either worship and serve Him or
ourselves. Perhaps the Lord’s eternal judgment
will be more a confirmation of who we have become than a shocking decree from out
of the blue.
God knows
our hearts and we can hide nothing from Him, either today or at any point in
the future. Our faith as Orthodox
Christians goes to the heart, to the depths of who we are, but also reminds us
that we are always in relationship with other people who are also the children
of God. We encounter Him in them. Who we are in relation to Jesus Christ is
shown each day of our lives in how we treat others, especially those who need
our help, attention, and friendship, as well as our enemies. A Christianity that ignores “the least of
these” is not worthy of the name. Every
human being is created in the image and likeness of God. We bring judgment upon ourselves whenever we
treat our neighbors, no matter who they are or how they have offended us, in
ways that do not manifest the divine love and compassion.
No, the
point is not that the rich will be damned and the poor will be saved. Instead, it is that there are strong and deep
temptations associated with focusing on ourselves, especially our wealth,
possessions, and success in this world. For if we love ourselves, our pleasures,
and our status more than God and neighbor, no matter how much or little we
have, we have already shut ourselves out of the kingdom. The name Lazarus means “One who has been
helped,” and those whose miserable life circumstances do not encourage them to
trust in money, power, or success are in a good position to learn that their
help is in the Lord, in His mercy and love.
The rich
man never learned that lesson, however. Quite
different from this selfish man are the saints we commemorated on Friday, the
Holy Unmercenary Healers Cosmas and Damian.
They used the money they inherited from their parents to provide medical
care without charge to the sick and needy.
God worked many miracles through them, for they became channels of the
Lord’s mercy and love to those with whom the Lord identified Himself: the sick, the weak, the stranger, “the least
of these my brethren.”
St. Paul’s
famous words about love to 1 Corinthians 13 were lived out by these great
saints. We remember them precisely because
of their love. The Lord said that the
greatest commandments are to love God with all our heart, soul, and strength
and our neighbors as ourselves. And what
greater sign of love is there than patiently and selflessly to ease the pain of
others, to lighten their burdens, to heal their bodies, and restore them to
health. No, these men did not take
credit for their work or think that they healed by their own power. Instead, their lives were transformed by the
healing energies of the Holy Spirit; thereby they became channels of God’s
mercy to suffering, desperate people.
Saints
Cosmas and Damian were completely different from the rich man who disregarded
Lazarus. They would have provided him
their best care free of charge and done everything possible to nurse him back
to health. Their selfless love for
Lazarus would have been an icon of the Kingdom of God in which those who wait
humbly upon the Lord will not be disappointed.
No wonder they are great saints of the Church.
But we
have to go beyond merely praising the memory of Sts. Cosmas and Damian. We must venerate them not only with our
words, but also with our deeds; namely, by following in their footsteps for the
Lazaruses of our world and of our lives.
No, we are not all called to become physicians or to give everything
away to the poor; we ourselves may face illness and need. Nonetheless, we are all called to live out
the selfless love that Jesus Christ has brought to the world, the love that is
patient and kind and free of envy; that rejoices in the truth and endures all
things for the salvation of the world.
That kind of love never fails, for it has already conquered death
through our Lord’s crucifixion and glorious resurrection.
Such love
is not a feeling, an emotion, or a sentiment.
It is a commitment, a sacrifice, and an offering of ourselves to God in
the service of the living icons of Christ whom we encounter every day, namely
every human being with whom we come in contact.
So let us be Christians not merely in name, but also in how we live,
even when it is inconvenient. Then we will
be shaped decisively by the same divine mercy that we ask for ourselves and we will
participate already in the eternal joy that Jesus Christ has brought to the world.
No comments:
Post a Comment