Sitting with the Sacred

A while back, I heard someone say that we don’t have poverty today like that which existed when Jesus walked in the Holy Land. I thought, “That’s not true.” Even if we look only at people in the US and say that life below the poverty line in this country is better than the circumstances the Lazarus of Luke 16:19-31 finds himself in while he lives, there are still too many people who don’t know where their next meal is coming from and can’t afford life-saving treatment or preventative medical care. This is unacceptable. We’re the stewards of God’s gifts, and part of being a steward means taking care of the lives that intersect with ours. In one way or another each of our lives intersects with every other life. Each one is a gift from God.

One of the wonderful qualities of the parables is that they contain enough details and yet are universal enough to speak to people who receive them in a variety of times, places, and circumstances. The parable in Luke 16:19-31 is no exception.

Yes, it’s important to be on the lookout for the members of the human family who lack the material necessities of life, and to share what we have to meet those needs. That is one of the messages of this parable.

Yet, as I’ve heard and read the story again this week, I’ve found myself zeroing in on certain details I haven’t before. I found myself noticing just how near Lazarus is to the rich man. I’ve also noticed the statement “Dogs even used to come and lick his sores” (Luke 16:21). I suspect this detail would be repulsive to a first-century audience. The possibility of this reaction underscores how unaware human beings can be of each other’s needs — so unaware that a repulsive action from an animal demonstrates greater attention than a nearby human does. Meanwhile, some readers and listeners today might say it’s not surprising the dog showed more care for Lazarus than the rich man did.

But this lack of surprise at human obliviousness and/or callousness doesn’t have to feel so familiar. We can appreciate how God shows love for us through all of creation even as we look for ways to share God’s love with the world around us. We can choose to be conscious and proactive conduits of that love.

And not only by tending to the needs of those who lack material necessities. We can reach out to our brothers and sisters who are reaching out to us for companionship. As St. Teresa of Calcutta said, “Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty” (qtd. in Brenninkmeyer). We can also respond to our brothers and sisters who turn to us for guidance. As Lisa Brenninkmeyer reminds us, we can strive to be more aware of and to meet the needs of those closest to us.

I’d like to wrap up this post with the prayer she used to close a reflection for September 25th. You can listen to that reflection here. It comes from her collection of daily devotions entitled Be Still, which I’m listening to through the Hallow app.

Dear Lord,
Take the blinders of my eyes so I see the needs around me. Help me to see the interruptions in my day as opportunities to serve. I may never see how significant these little acts of kindness are, but You see. You know. And that is enough. Amen

Lisa Brenninkmeyer

Works cited

The Bible. The New American Bible Revised Edition, Kindle edition, Fairbrother, 2011.

Brenninkmeyer, Lisa. “September 25.” Be Still Devotional, Hallow, 25 Sept. 2022, https://hallow.com/prayers/1008598/. Accessed 28 Sept. 2022