The parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus (Lk. 16:19-31) is important for understanding certain truths about Christian life and destiny. It is not only about the inequity of wealth and poverty, nor only about the consequences of a grievous lack of compassion or charity, though these are of course key themes of the parable. We’ll look at these as well as another, perhaps less obvious theme, or rather a practical application, which may be of utmost importance in allowing this message to bear fruit.
Jesus begins the parable by describing the fine apparel and food of the rich man. A key phrase in this description is “every day.” He dressed luxuriously and feasted sumptuously every day. No one is condemned for dressing up on occasion and enjoying some special treats on certain festive days. Even in very poor countries, people often have one special garment to wear on holidays, and on rare occasions manage to have a festive meal. This belongs to human culture and is a good thing. But it’s not a good thing when one has so much wealth that one can afford to do this every day, especially when there are desperately needy people in plain sight who would greatly benefit from just a tiny share in the goods of the wealthy. Lazarus lay at the rich man’s gate, hoping for a shred of charity, so the rich man had to walk by him many times and ignore him, and this was his greatest sin.
St Luke makes it a point to highlight Jesus’ love for the poor, and it is in his Gospel alone that the beatitudes are contrasted with the woes, which apply perfectly to the rich man of the parable. After pronouncing blessings upon 
the poor, the hungry, and the mourners, Jesus says: “But woe to you who are rich, for you have [already] received your consolation. Woe to you who are full now, for you shall hunger. Woe to you who laugh now, for you shall mourn and weep” (Lk. 6:24-25). The rich have already received the only consolation they’ll ever have in the ephemeral wealth of this world. This is exactly what Abraham told the rich man who was tormented in Hell: “in your lifetime you received your good things… [but now] you are in anguish.” He was also full of rich food in this life, but in the afterlife he was parched with thirst, begging for a single drop of water. The rich man celebrated and laughed while Lazarus suffered and wept in misery, but now he was groaning in anguish, tormented in the flames. Lazarus, on the other hand, was poor, hungry and miserable in this life, but all these injustices were redressed in the next, so he was satisfied and happy in the bosom of Abraham and in the presence of the holy angels, who came to receive his soul when it was at last time to leave his suffering body.
This also seems to be a fulfillment of a prophecy of Isaiah: “When I called, you did not answer; when I spoke, you did not listen; but you did what was evil in my eyes and chose what I did not delight in. Therefore thus says the Lord God: Behold, My servants shall eat, but you shall be hungry; behold, My servants shall drink, but you shall be thirsty; behold, My servants shall rejoice, but you shall be put to shame; behold, My servants shall sing for gladness of heart, but you shall cry out for pain of heart and shall wail for anguish of spirit” (65:12-14).
Even though we know it is more than material poverty that makes one eligible for Heaven, and more than material wealth that makes one a candidate for Hell, this particular parable contains no further nuance, which should at least tell us that these conditions still are significant. Abraham simply made the observation that the rich man had good things in life and now he has torment, and Lazarus had poverty and sickness in this life and now he has comfort and consolation.
In many countries, especially relatively poor ones, there is often extreme inequity between rich and poor. The few rich are fabulously, opulently rich, which the many poor are desperately destitute. I read recently about someone who had wealthy friends in India and he stayed with them on their estate, and whenever he went out of their gates he was greeted with numerous dirt-poor beggars, just like Lazarus at the gate of the rich man. His friends did nothing for them, but he couldn’t tolerate the injustice and stayed no longer with the rich.
What are we to do, when we hear a parable such as that of today’s Gospel? Such injustices exist all over the world today, and the ultimate consequences will be the same as those we heard about in the Gospel. It’s not enough to say, “Well, I’m not rich, so I’m not guilty of the rich man’s sins.” As Christians the first thing we need to do for the poor and suffering is to intercede for them.
Now to some this may sound like a pious cop-out, and in fact in can end up that way, if intercession is not properly understood. A little while ago we were reading a book in the refectory called God and Man, by Archbishop Anthony Bloom. He talked about the authentic meaning of intercession. Intercession is not just offering a few words of petition in church or at home, thinking that thus you have fulfilled your obligation to those for whom you pray.
To intercede literally means to “go between,” that is, to step into the situation, in whatever way is possible, of the one for whom you intercede, so as to actually do something about it. To intercede for someone is to make a commitment, to bear the burden of another, to bring them before the face of God with more than just words or a bit of good will. In the prophet Ezekiel, the image of intercession is that of standing in the breach of the wall of a city, putting one’s own life on the line to defend it. Thus says the Lord, who looked in vain for true intercessors: “The people of the land… have oppressed the poor and the needy and have extorted from the sojourner without [giving] redress. And I sought for a man among them who should build up the wall and stand in the breach before Me for the land, that I should not destroy it; but I found none. Therefore I have poured out my indignation upon them; I have consumed them with the fire of my wrath…” (22:29-31).
Archbishop Anthony gave a dramatic example of literal intercession in a single woman who gave her life to spare the life of a mother with children who was being hunted by the Communists in Russia. She chose to stand, as it were, between the killers and the other woman and her children, and this is the ultimate intercession. Now of course such a heroic act can only be performed once, since she was killed in the process, and we have to go on interceding day by day, but the principle of radical commitment to, and self-sacrifice for, those for whom we pray still must be applied in concrete circumstances.
We haven’t discharged our duties to the poor by merely mentioning them in our prayer. If our intercession is not to be superficial or a mere pious show, in which case it would be fruitless, we must, so to speak, put our lives where our mouths are. If we intercede for the poor, we must be willing to experience poverty ourselves, and if we have any material resources, we should give without hesitation, and give more than we think we can afford. Otherwise we are not stepping into their shoes or standing in the breach of the broken down wall of our corrupt and heartless world. If we intercede for the sick, we must be willing to endure sickness ourselves, patiently and cheerfully, making it a sacrifice to God on behalf of those in much more serious straits than we are. If we intercede for the persecuted, we must be willing to endure hostility from others, even if wholly unjustified, so that our prayer will bear fruit. If we intercede for peace, we ourselves must be peacemakers in our own environment. If we intercede for the end of abortion, we have to be willing to make sacrifices, contribute to the cause, or personally participate in works to that end. If we intercede for the conversion of sinners, we must make a thorough and even brutally honest examination of our own lives, identifying clearly and working diligently on the areas in which we sinners need to convert, and never looking down on the weaknesses of others, but rather offering ourselves in sacrifice for their salvation. Only in such ways will intercession be genuine and fruitful and hence pleasing to God.
For, as St Paul says in the epistle today (Gal. 2:16-20), “it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.” Jesus Christ is the Intercessor par excellence, who stepped into our human condition and bore its terrible weight. He stood between the Face of God and the fires of Hell, gathering us to Himself, standing with us, identifying Himself with us, bearing our sins and taking them to the Cross. He made a commitment to us, a covenant in his own blood. We who believe in Him have thrown in our lot with Him; no servant is greater than his master. That’s why just before Paul says that it is no longer himself but Christ living in him, he gives the reason and the necessary condition for this: “I have been crucified with Christ.” He has joined the Lord in his universal act of intercession for the whole world. Later he will say that he fills up in his own flesh the sufferings of Christ for the sake of his body, the Church.
Some might object: why should I identify myself with poor beggars and give away my goods to them? I earned it with my own labors. What do I owe them? To them I would say: why should the Son of God have sacrificed his life for you, who made yourself his loathsome enemy by your sins? What did He owe you? Why did He put his life on the line to make up for your stupidity, selfishness and malice? He did it because He loves us, and now He calls us to love as He has loved, to forgive as He has forgiven, to give as He has given.
Let us not shrink from the high and demanding calling to be intercessors with Christ, for our loved ones and for the whole world. There is likely a Lazarus in our lives who needs our commitment of charity and sacrifice. There are millions of them lying at the gates of the rich and powerful of this world. There are souls who will soon be standing before the judgment seat of God, and if they are in a state of sin, they are poorer and more miserable than the most destitute wretch on earth.
So, let us not be among those who want only the good things of this world, being more concerned with ourselves than with others, for then the woes Jesus pronounced will fall on us. We must be willing to accept the price of fruitful intercession, not just giving lip-service in our prayers, but making of our whole life a sacrifice of praise and love to God, bearing the burdens of our brothers and sisters, even in our own flesh. Then we shall truly be followers of Christ, and when we die the angels will come for us and take us to the place of comfort and joy, the place reserved for all those who have been willing to be crucified with Christ. These are the ones who alone can truly say: I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me.
