27 & 28 September 2025, 26th SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
Don’t ignore the Compassionate-Crucified, Who hungers for our love
The Sunday readings this weekend place before us a sobering challenge, one that touches the very heart of Christian discipleship. It is not a sin simply to be rich, nor is it necessarily a virtue to be poor. Wealth in itself is not evil, and poverty does not in itself sanctify. The wealthy can be saints, and the needy can be scoundrels. Yet Our Lord teaches us that there is a real heaven and a real hell, and how we live in this life, how we respond to God and to our neighbour, will in some measure determine how we live in the next. Against the perception of His listeners, Jesus teaches that suffering or calamity is not necessarily a sign of God’s anger, just as comfort is not always a sign of His favour. The good can suffer, the wicked may prosper, but there will come a time when God’s justice makes all things right.
And so, while the world is not yet perfect, while the Kingdom is still unfolding, we cannot remain indifferent. The prophet Amos cries out against the complacency of the indulgent in the southern kingdom, who reclined on their ivory couches while the northern kingdom lay in ruins. Their prosperity and their wealth, he warns, will count for nothing if it is not marked by compassion. Similarly, in the Gospel it is not the wealth of Dives that condemns him, but his indifference to Lazarus. His sin is not that he had riches, but that he ignored the poor man at his gate. In the end, the great chasm between heaven and hell reflects the chasm between those who show mercy and those who shut their hearts against the suffering of others.
St Augustine, reflecting on this parable, gives us another perspective. He suggests that many Jews looked upon the Suffering Servant, Jesus Christ Himself, and felt unmoved. They saw Him crucified, wounded, rejected, and did not recognise Him as the Messiah. St Augustine even wonders whether Dives represents those very listeners of Jesus who remained blind to the truth that stood before them. Why were they blind? Perhaps because Jesus did not match their expectations of a powerful liberator. Perhaps because their hearts were hardened by legalism, or because they were too comfortable in their position of influence and popularity. They feared that to acknowledge Him would mean losing prestige in the eyes of others. Or perhaps, as St Augustine says, it was permitted by the mysterious providence of God, that the Son of Man might suffer and save. Whatever the reason, the result is the same: they had all the signs, they had heard the authoritative teaching, they had seen the miracles, they had “feasted sumptuously” on Moses and the prophets – and yet they would not believe. Their lives did not move in the direction of the knowledge they had received.
We could make explicit what St Augustine does not quite say: Lazarus himself, lying wounded at the gate, is an image of Christ. Jesus became poor for our sake. He was despised and rejected by men. He suffered the disbelief of His own people and the cruelty of the Romans. He suffers even now because of our unfaithfulness. On the Cross, He accepted wounds for our healing. The very name “Lazarus” (Eleazar in Hebrew) means “God helps.” Christ, the true Lazarus, still stands at the gate of our lives. He is often wounded, hungry, and thirsty for our faith, waiting for our compassion, but too often we are feasting at the table of worldly distractions, ignoring Him to our peril.
And here lies the danger for us. We too can grow complacent. We too can be lulled into laziness by the comforts and entertainments of this passing world. Yet we have received more than even the Jews of Jesus’ time: we have not only the Law and the Prophets, but the Messiah Himself, His Church, and the Sacraments. With such gifts entrusted to us, how can we justify ignoring His demand for our faithfulness and love?
It is so easy to be swept away by the “sumptuous feast” of daily life: politics, work, pleasure, busyness, entertainment. It is so easy to shrug it all off, to excuse ourselves by claiming we are too busy. But to see Christ requires effort, attention, and sacrifice. St Paul reminds St Timothy that we must fight the good fight against our lower nature. Dives fought no such battle; he simply feasted, doing what he pleased. But we are called to something greater. This fight is not ours alone. We are not left to battle in our own strength. Christ Himself, the Compassionate Lord Who loves us, is the only One Who can bridge the chasm before it is too late. He shows us mercy while we are still sinners. He reaches across from heaven to earth, snatching us from eternal death by rising from the grave. But His mercy calls for our response. The question is this: will we live in such a way that shows we are convinced of these realities?
How then do we open our eyes to Christ? How do we avoid the blindness of Dives and recognise the Suffering Servant Who stands at our gate, waiting to make His home in us?
First, we must see Him in the needy. St John Chrysostom says, “If you cannot see Christ in the beggar at the church door, you will not find Him in the chalice.” Each person bears the image of God. To serve the poor, to comfort the suffering, to intercede for the lapsed and the indifferent, even to pray for the faithful departed, is to serve Christ Himself. Our compassion must be practical, but also prayerful; the poor do not need our goods alone, but our prayers as well.
Second, we must see Him in the Scriptures. The living Word of God is the voice of Christ speaking to us. To neglect Scripture is to neglect Him. Frequent, prayerful reading of the Gospels in particular allows us to hear His voice, to be formed by His teaching, to love Him more. If we open our hearts to Him in His Word, we will not remain unmoved to the magnitude of His love for us.
Third, we must see Him in the Sacraments. Nowhere is His presence more real, more concrete, than in the Eucharist. Here He is, Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity, offered for us. Yet in so many places He is ignored, abandoned, treated with indifference. We show our love for Him not only in our devout and worthy reception of Holy Communion after confession, but also in our reverence, our adoration, our willingness to spend time with Him in prayer. In a few weeks we will celebrate the Forty Hours Devotion. This is a chance for us to keep watch with the Lord, to make reparation for indifference and neglect, and to deepen our love for the One Who waits for us in the Blessed Sacrament. There can be no greater place to make the Lord, Who is present welcome than to spend time with Him in this great mystery.
The rich man ignored Lazarus, and in so doing sealed his fate. Let us not do the same. Christ, the Compassionate-Crucified, still stands at our gate. He is wounded, He hungers for our faith, He longs for our love. Let us not pass Him by. Amen.