The End Can Be The Beginning!

 

Homily for the 33rd Sunday of Ordinary Time, Nov. 16, 2025. Gospel of Luke 21:5-19. Theme: The End Can Be The Beginning!

 

In today’s Gospel, Jesus foretells the destruction of Jerusalem and its Sacred Temple about 40 years before it took place in the year 70AD.  It was a building so magnificent that people couldn’t help but marvel at it. It was the pride of Israel, a symbol of God’s presence, a structure that seemed immovable, eternal. Jesus’ words must have shocked everyone when he said: “All these things you are admiring—the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another.”

But you know, even the end of something we hold as precious can actually become the beginning of something greater and better. For example, from the ruins of Jerusalem there emerged the spread of the Christian Church. The Old Testament and the Old Law of Moses with its ineffectual Passover animal sacrifices for sin, gave way to the New Testament and the New Covenant of Christ, sealed with the atoning Blood of the cross and perpetually celebrated in the Eucharist. On the practical level how did this happen? Well, you see, heeding Jesus’ warning signs that we heard in today’s Gospel, the Jewish Christians escaped Jerusalem before its attack and collapse. Then afterwards, since there was no Jerusalem to return to, they became migrants and missionaries carrying the Light of Christ throughout the known world.  So what looked like the end of something good turned out to be the beginning of something even better.

And this wasn’t just the case for Judaism and destruction of Jerusalem. It was also the case for Catholicism and the destruction of Rome in the 7th century. Pope Gregory the First (now known as St. Gregory the Great!) saw the disintegration of society and government happening all around him. The ancient glorious Empire was gone, having been overrun by marauding barbarians from without and decimated by moral corruption from within. Law and order virtually disappeared. Its great monuments were in ruins.  Even the civil rulers abandoned the Eternal City leaving the remnant population in poverty and defenseless.  Gregory was the sole figure of authority left in the city and as such he rose to the occasion.

He refused to throw his hands up in despair and see the end as THE END.  Together with the clergy who remained with him, they put their hands and heads to work.  They took the debris and rubble and used it to rebuild. They started food distribution centers and opened up shelters for the homeless. The sick were cared for with mercy and the dead were given proper burials. Monks transformed their monasteries into schools so as to pass on the torch of education to new generations. Gregory and the Church became involved in politics and government administration because there was no one else left to do it.  And while it was a long and hard run, out of the old city’s total collapse came New Rome, which showed the indisputable ability of the Catholic Faith to be a spiritual and cultural force for good and which rebuilt and improved what we call Western Civilization.  What seemed like the end of something wonderful actually turned out to be the beginning of something greater and better.

This same dynamic of ending and beginning happens in our own lives. We all have a figurative “temple” or an “empire” that we cherish as sacred and that we cling to for security.  It could be a relationship, a career, our health or our wealth. Such things that seem solid and we think we can count on…things that we place our hopes in and deem unshakable can fall apart and come crumbling down like the Jerusalem Temple or the Roman Empire. And when this happens we are faced with the same choices as those Jewish Christians of Jerusalem or Pope Gregory and his clergy.  Will we give in to despondency and despair over what is ending? Or will we look to see the possibility of something better and greater beginning?  

We will each have to face this kind of a situation at some point in our lives and many of us have most likely already done so.  Christianity is not an escape from life’s troubles but it gives us the opportunity to walk through them with Christ at our side.  It reminds us that even if we are powerless in a particular situation we are never helpless. With Christ who strengthens us we can begin again and like Pope St. Gregory the Great, start laying the foundations for something better and greater that will be built up out of the rubble that now lies before us. 

What does that mean? It means that nothing can take away the hope and the help that God promises us. The world can shake, but our foundation is Christ. The world can threaten, but our trust is secure in Him. Even when everything else falls, God holds us up. The sure hope we have that the ending of one thing can become the beginning of something better rests upon the fact that the life-giving and life-changing power of our Risen Lord has not been depleted over the past 2,000 years. It is inexhaustible and available in every generation and to any one who surrenders their life to him. 

The message of Jesus today is not meant to frighten us. It is meant to free us. If we stand on Christ, we can walk through anything. If we trust Christ, we can survive anything. If we cling to Christ, we will endure through everything. A better future does not belong to those who keep looking back and weeping over what once was.  It belongs to those who move forward with confidence in God, who depend upon his Providence for their daily needs, and who seek first his Kingdom above all things. 

The Church as Building and the Church as People

 

Deacon Dave · “The Church as Building and the Church as People”

Homily for the Feast of the Dedication of St. John Lateran Basilica, Nov. 9, 2025. Ezekiel 47:1-2, 8-9, 12; 1 Corinthians 3:9-11, 16-17; Gospel of St. John 2:13-22. Theme: The Church as Building and the Church as People

 What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word “church”? Most Catholics would reply, “it’s where we go to Mass on Sundays”. But this is not what “church” means in both the New Testament and in Catholic teaching. When the Bible or the Catechism use the word “Church” what they have in mind is the community of God’s people and not temples designed for worship. 

 As a matter of fact there were originally no such buildings at all in ancient Christianity. The reason being that it was a forbidden religion whose members had to worship in secret before the Roman Emperor Constantine legalized Christianity in 313 AD. And so it wasn’t until 324AD that the very first public church structure was erected in Rome. It was built on land donated by the prominent Laterani family and dedicated to the two most famous Johns in the Bible: St. John the Apostle and St. John the Baptist. In honor of the patron saints as well as the donors, the church was named St. John Lateran. 

 The main reason we are celebrating its dedication in today’s Liturgy is precisely because it was the first and thus the oldest of all Catholic churches in the world. But in addition, it holds the distinction of being intimately connected with the pope because it’s his cathedral as the Bishop of Rome. This surprises many people because most think that St. Peter's Basilica in Vatican City is his special church. While it’s true that that’s where the Holy Father makes most of his official appearances, it is St. John Lateran which is honored as the mother-church of all Catholic places of worship throughout the world. 

 Today’s feast of the Dedication of St. John Lateran is a reminder that all church buildings throughout the world, be they famous and grandiose or poor and simple, stand as signs that the Kingdom of God has come among us. They are each a public proclamation that God exists, that God is with us. And so in every culture and in every part of the world there can be found temples and shrines to the homage to God. We need these manifestations of faith. We need these visible monuments of our invisible God. We need these tangible reminders that God dwells among us and with us. These sacred sanctuaries are where we gather as God’s consecrated priestly people to worship through, with and in his Son, Jesus. This is why they are specially “dedicated” in a way that is not done for any other kind of building. 

 But still, as important as they are, these physical structures are not absolutely necessary for us to live and grow as the Church. Persecutions throughout history and the assault of natural disasters have shown this to be true time after time. Even in our own day when the government closed-down our churches during the pandemic and when the raging California fires turned many of them into ashes, the “Church as people” continued its ministry, its worship and its works of mercy for the needy. You see, nothing can stop the Church of God from existing, from acting and from growing. 

 The words of Jesus in today's Gospel, “Destroy this temple and I will raise it up again!” were spoken about his physical body, but they can also be applied to his Mystical Body that is the Church. Throughout history hostile governments have tried to destroy it but have failed. Even when it looked as if they had succeeded and all visible signs of faith were demolished (such as in many Communist-controlled nations) the Church remained present. Like the corpse of Christ in the tomb, it often went underground and seemed silent but it was simply awaiting resurrection. And time after time throughout history, once the persecutors were toppled from political power, the Church emerged from that tomb full of life and grace, because as Jesus promised, it is indestructible. 

 The reason for our spiritual indestructibility is found in our Second Reading. St. Paul reminds us that just as God dwelt in Jesus of Nazareth making him his holy temple, so God dwells within each one of us through grace and faith, making us his holy temples. We are fortified by the Divine Presence which dwells within us through Word and Sacrament. This means that nothing on planet Earth, and nothing in the whole universe, nothing whatsoever, can truly destroy us!

We All Survive Our Physical Deaths!

 

Deacon Dave · We All Survive Our Physical Deaths!

Homily for the Commemoration of the Faithful Departed on All Souls Day, Nov. 2, 2025. The Gospel of St. John 6:37-40. Theme: We All Survive Our Physical Deaths! 

Throughout world history there has always been a recognition that human beings survive physical death and pass on to another life. This universal belief has been found in every culture no matter how primitive or advanced it was. In other words, there has always been a deeply pervasive sense among human beings that there’s a much bigger picture to our existence than only the time spent here on planet Earth. There is a sense built into us that we are something more than just our minds and bodies. And this “something more” is what survives our physical deaths. 

This “something more” is what we call the immortal soul. Our souls empower us to do so many wonderful things that the rest of physical creation simply cannot do, such as thinking and choosing, loving and laughing, pondering lofty thoughts and exploring the unknown. And most importantly, because the soul is spiritual it’s immortal because spiritual things cannot and do not deteriorate or die like those of the material world. And this is why we can say with confidence that human beings survive physical death. 

 The Catholic Church, like every ancient community and culture, has developed its own rites for honoring the dead and expressing belief in the afterlife. Very early on, even before Christianity emerged from the Roman catacombs, prayers for the repose of the faithful departed were etched on tombstones and written into the liturgical books. There was always a conviction that we are not separated from those who have passed, but continue on with our relationships even if in a different way. As the Church calendar developed, November 2 was set apart as the annual day of commemoration of the dead and soon after this, the entire month of November was dedicated to that same intention. All Souls Day reminds us of three important Christian teachings about death and the afterlife. 

 First, All Souls Day reminds us that our relationships continue after physical death . Our Catholic funeral ritual tells us that when it comes to death, “life is changed and not ended”. This means that we continue on, that our existence is not concluded by death but simply moves into its next way of being. And so the deceased do not really leave us behind, it's just that we are no longer visibly present to one another. All Souls Day is an annual reminder that we are still connected and that we can keep up the relationship on a spiritual level. We pray for them because, even though they left this world with love in their hearts, they were still holding some of it back from God. And so before entering into the Direct Presence of God who is Absolute Love they are purified of this residual selfishness through the process of refinement that we call Purgatory. And we can walk with them and help them through this by the offering of our thoughts, prayers and Masses. 

 Second, All Souls Day reminds us that we Christians do not belong to death. Because of our baptismal relationship, a Christian does not merely die. A Christian dies in Christ. And those two words, “in Christ” make all the difference in the world! They mean that we do not belong to death; we belong to Christ who is the Resurrection and the Life! So, for those who live and die in Christ, death is not a black-hole of nothingness. Instead, it’s a doorway to a fuller experience of life filled with glory, joy and all that is good. And so, we Christians are not confused or silent in the face of death, as are those who do not have faith. We respond to it with the cry of “Alleluia!” because we believe in the resurrection of the dead and in the life of the world to come. 

 Third, All Souls Day reminds us that death is the Great Equalizer. The social status we had on planet Earth is no indication whatsoever of what our status will be in eternity. When you walk through a cemetery you can see huge ornate monuments elaborately proclaiming the prominence of those buried beneath or within. And you will also come across many simple crosses and metal markers that identify the resting places of the vast majority who were just us ordinary people. But underneath both kinds of monuments all of the deceased are one and the same. Death puts every human being on the same level. Our financial portfolio, our impressive work resume, our roster of friends and social contacts, our physical appearance and fitness will mean nothing at all. Those things will all be gone and we will turn into dust. The only thing that will matter is how sincerely we sought to love God and neighbor in this life. 

 And so, All Souls Day, and really the entire month of November, is a chance for us to not just remember our loved ones and pray for those who have died. It’s also a time to reflect on our own deaths, not in a morbid way but with a healthy dose of Christian realism. It's a time to put into practice the old proverb that says, “don’t put off until tomorrow what you should do today” because we do not have forever to come to know Christ better; we do not have forever to learn to love God and neighbor better; and we do not have forever to finally make those changes in our lives that we know need to be made in the remaining years given to each one of us.

Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector

 

Deacon Dave · Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector

Homily for the 30th Sunday of Ordinary Time, Oct. 26, 2025. Gospel of St. Luke 18:9-14. Theme: Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector 

 In today’s gospel a Pharisee and a tax collector go to the Jerusalem Temple to pray. These two men stand in stark opposition to one another and it seems that Jesus intentionally chose such a contrast of characters to emphasize that salvation is not something that we can earn or deserve. Rather, it’s a free gift of God that is given to the humble of heart and not at all the result of our efforts and religious practices. So, let’s take another look at these two men and see what they have to say to us. 

 On one hand we have a Pharisee. That name means “the separated ones” because the Pharisees prided themselves on remaining away from and untouched by the pagan influences all around them. Their idea of devotion to God was found in observing every little detail of the many religious rules and rituals that filled up daily Jewish life. Thus, they defined holiness in legal terms and their approach to God was like carrying out the various stipulations of a contract. The Pharisees represented the epitome of spirituality and righteous living to the people of Israel. So Jesus’ listeners would quite naturally assume that this man was the “good guy” of the story, the one who would obviously please God the most. 

 On the other hand we have a tax collector. Now, they were considered to be the most vile of Jewish men because they had turned their backs on the God of Israel in order to work for the pagan emperor-god of Rome. They were considered traitors who sold out their people for the sake of personal gain. Not only did they collect the unjust Roman taxes, but they padded their accounts to make sure that they got a nice fat commission off the blood, sweat and tears of their fellow Jews. They were despised in their villages and rejected by their own families. Those who heard Jesus speaking this parable would have been sure that there was no way that such a scoundrel could possibly be favored by God. But Jesus is always full of surprises! 

 As we just heard in the Gospel, the Pharisee entered the Temple and stood tall and proud as he confidently rattled off all his religious achievements. He was laboring under the false impression that he could sway God and purchase holiness with the currency of his spiritual practices and financial contributions. Now, his fasting and alms were both excellent deeds, but their religious value got spoiled when he turned them into a spiritual résumé that he assumed would win for him a divine pat on the back! 

 The parable then moves on to the tax collector who dared to enter the temple area. I say “dared” because it was a risky venture as he was not supposed to be there. You see, tax collectors were not allowed to enter the Jerusalem Temple since they were excommunicated from Jewish worship. But his inner desire to set things right with God made him take the risk. So, even before we hear his humble prayer for mercy, his actions reveal the deep yearning for God that was in his heart. Then once he was successfully inside, he wouldn't lift his eyes to gaze upon the sacredness of the Temple, for he felt himself unworthy to even look upon what was holy. Instead, he struck his chest in a gesture of penitence as he repeated: “O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” That’s all. No résumé of spiritual works. No excuses for his bad choices and selfish behavior. No promises that he might not be able to keep. He didn’t pretend to be anything other than what he was: a sinner in need of redemption. And because of his stark honesty with God he went home justified, which means “being put into a right relationship with God.” 

 Jesus astounded his listeners by making this tax collector the “good guy” instead of the Pharisee. What made him the hero of the parable was what we call “humility of heart”, which is an honest assessment and a truthful awareness about who and what we are in relation to the glory and holiness of God. The Bible tells us from beginning to end that it is precisely this interior disposition that attracts God’s mercy to us sinners like iron shavings to a magnet! In fact, humility of heart is really the only way to open the door to living life with God. Otherwise we shut him out because we are so full of ourselves that there is no room left for him! 

 While humility enables us to see and fully admit that we are sinners it doesn’t stop there because that’s not the whole story of who we are. Humility goes on to remind us that yes, although we are indeed sinners, we are nevertheless passionately and personally each loved by God our Father who is rich in mercy. Humility opens our eyes to the truth that we are all in need of his grace and that none of us is greater than another in God’s sight. It enables us to acknowledge our sins and so receive forgiveness. It expands our hearts so that we can have patience and be understanding of others because it reminds us that they too are sinners who stand in need of redemption. Humility moves us to forgive others just as God has forgiven us and to accept others just as Christ has accepted us. 

 I think that one reason why Jesus told this Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector is because he knows that there’s a bit of both men inside each one of us. Sometimes, if we are honest about it, we pray like the Pharisee saying: “O Lord, thank you that I’m not like that inconsiderate person at work… Thank you that I am not like that annoying neighbor next door… Thank you that I am not like that dirty bum on the street…” But then at other times we become more aware of our true moral status. Like the tax collector, we clearly see our spiritual poverty and so we cry out : “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner”. Jesus invites each one of us to choose to walk on the challenging pathway of humility. And to help us better do so he has given us the Sacraments of Confession and Holy Eucharist so that through the grace bestowed by these sacred rituals, the Pharisee within us will shrink and the tax collector within us will grow until finally, he is the only one left standing and praying in the temple of our hearts.

Seven Washings for Seven Sacraments

 

Deacon Dave · Seven Washings for Seven Sacraments

Homily for the 28th Sunday of Ordinary Time, Oct. 12, 2025. 2 Kings 5:14-17 (for the full story read 5:1-19). Theme: Seven Washings for Seven Sacraments 

Today’s first reading from the Old Testament about Naaman the Syrian took place around 850 years before the birth of Christ. Unfortunately, for some reason our Liturgy has us dropping into the story almost at its end! But if we don’t know the whole story then we’ll miss out on some extremely important details that enable us to better appreciate how Naaman’s cure, through the seven washings in the Jordan River, has meaning for us today. So, let’s take a quick look at the missing back-story. 

 Naaman was the prestigious commander of the great and powerful Syrian army. In one of his many raids upon Israel, he had captured a young girl whom he gave as a slave to his wife. After he contracted leprosy, this slave-girl told him about Elisha, a powerful prophet of the One True God back in her homeland. She assured him that through this holy man he could be healed. So, Naaman, filled with hope, set off for the land of the Hebrews seeking the cure. 

 Being a pagan he was used to a lot of fanfare and frenzy in religious rituals. And so, Naaman imagined that the God of Israel would manifest himself by means of dazzling displays of power and might! However, no such spiritual fireworks were connected with his instructions for a cure. Elisha simply told Naaman to go and immerse himself seven times in the Jordan River if he wished to be healed. This high and mighty soldier was insulted by such a lack of attention to what he thought should be a proper religious ceremony! He grew furious because he felt like he'd been treated disrespectfully and made to look like a fool. In his wounded pride, Naaman refused the offer, packed up his things and intended to head back to Syria. 

 However, Naaman’s servants convinced him to at least give it a try. They reasoned that if Elisha had told him to do some bizarre things, such as jumping up and down and chanting magic incantations, he would have surely done so. Then why not do as the prophet said and wash seven times in the Jordan River? What did he have to lose? What harm could that do, they reasoned? They encouraged him to at least give it a try and to see what happens. It’s at this point that we enter into the story in our first reading. And as we now know Naaman was indeed healed of leprosy and through this miracle was converted to faith in the One True God. 

 So, why do we Catholics bother to remember this story of an ancient Syrian and include it in our sacred Liturgy? Well, because it was foreshadowing, a prophecy in actions rather than in words, about how God’s healing presence and power enters into our own lives today. We see Naaman’s experience of God’s presence reflected in our seven sacraments that make use of ordinary things to bring the divine into our lives. Like Naaman, it’s easy for us to doubt that Heaven can touch earth through such seemingly ordinary things as the water of baptism, the oils of Confirmation and Anointing, the bread and wine of the Eucharist, the laying on of hands at Ordination, or the words of mutual love exchanged by bride and groom at Matrimony. 

 We understand Naaman’s initial doubt because at times we also find it in ourselves. I mean, it takes faith to imagine that simply through the pouring of water in baptism, we are healed of our spiritual emptiness and put into a right relationship with God. And it sounds incredible to say that ordinary bread and wine at Mass are truly transformed into the very Body and Blood of the Risen Lord Jesus! And we might even balk at the thought that through our simple apology to God in Confession our deepest sins are completely erased and our darkest past is totally forgiven. And yet this is precisely what happens to us and for us through the celebration of the Sacraments. They become the ways by which we share in the miraculous seven washings of Naaman in the Jordan River. 

 And so Naaman's story teaches us how we should approach the Sacraments if we hope to benefit from their blessings. He wasn’t cured by simply going through the action of seven washings. Naaman was healed because along with “the doing” he had “the believing” even if it wasn't a totally perfect belief. But it was enough to show God that he was humble and sincere. And it’s the same for each one of us in regards to the Sacraments. We know that their spiritual power doesn’t depend solely upon saying the right words or doing the right actions. That would be a superstitious pagan approach to religious ceremony every bit as much as Naaman did in the beginning. But if we receive the Sacraments with faith then God will surely reach out to us and touch us through these sacred rituals, just as surely as he once reached out to touch and heal Naaman through the seven washings in the Jordan River.

That Amazing Mustard-Seed-Sized Faith!

 

Deacon Dave · That Amazing Mustard-Seed-Sized Faith!

Homily for the 27th Sunday of Ordinary Time, Oct. 5, 2025. Luke 17:5-10. Theme: That Amazing Mustard-Seed-Sized Faith! 

In today’s gospel, Jesus teaches us about the power of a genuine faith and how it can bring about amazing and unexpected results. He uses the very tiny mustard seed that his listeners were all familiar with to illustrate this truth. Just as that mustard seed contains within it the potential of bringing forth a huge bush, so does an act of confident faith contain within it the power to do the impossible and accomplish much good in the world. But quite often this requires that we be willing to step out of our comfort zones to do something that we did not plan to do or even something that we do not think we can do. But this is where trust in God comes into play and once we take that first step in faith, God’s grace rushes in and enables us to do amazing things. Two inspiring examples of this mustard-seed sized faith at work happened right within the lifetimes of many of us. 

 In 1948, Mother Teresa of Calcutta was just an ordinary nun like so many others who spent their days teaching wealthy girls in India. But every day she had to come face-to-face with the destitute poverty and ravaging hunger of the poor outcasts in the city’s dirty streets. Her mustard-seed sized faith told her that God was asking her to do something about it. It was telling her to move out of her comfortable convent, to exchange her fancy nun clothes for a typical poor Indian woman’s sari, and to go live among the poor as one of them. 

 Mother Teresa trusted and then she began to do what God seemed to be asking of her even though she didn’t fully understand it. She took that first step of faith into the scary unknown and dedicated herself to a life of service among the poorest of the poor. At first she was all by herself but soon other women came to join her. Many of them had once been her wealthy students but now they had become her Sisters in a brand new religious community called the “Missionaries of Charity”, which is just another way of saying, “Ambassadors of God’s Love”. 

 Many years later, after she was world famous as a Nobel Peace Prize recipient, Mother Teresa was asked how it all started. She replied, “I never thought of doing anything big. I just saw one poor abandoned dying man lying in the street and so I picked him up and brought him home.” Today, there are over 4,000 Missionaries of Charity Sisters and Brothers, as well as lay Co-Workers of Mother Teresa, relieving the suffering of hundreds of thousands across the globe. All of this good happened because of God acting through one person’s mustard-seed-sized faith that was built upon confident trust in him. 

 On December 1, 1955, Rosa Parks, a devout Christian black woman in Montgomery, Alabama, was on a segregated bus-ride home after a long day at work. At one of the stops, 4 black passengers were told to give up their seats for the newly boarding white passengers. Three of them got up. But Rosa stayed put. She was tired from a long day of work and and was even more tired of giving in to injustice and discrimination. Her mustard-seed sized faith inside her told her not to move. It reminded her that she had dignity as a human being, as a child of God, redeemed by Jesus Christ just like anyone else. The police were called and Rosa was arrested on the spot. She then lost her job. 

 Once word of what she did spread, the entire black population of Montgomery boycotted the bus system for 381 days. They brought it to a stop-still, causing it to fall right down on its financial knees. This protest eventually resulted in a Supreme Court decision of opening up the doors to racial equality to all Americans, no matter who or what they are. It jump-started the civil rights movement that became a tidal wave of justice washing across the entire nation. All of this good happened because of God acting through one person’s mustard-seed-sized faith that was built upon confident trust in him. 

 What small act of charity or justice, needing the power of a mustard-seed sized faith to jump-start it, might God be asking each of us? Is there something that we know we could be doing but don’t have the courage to step out of our comfort zones to do? Is there some person or group that needs our help but we are hesitant to get involved or change our schedule to do so? Whatever it might be, don’t fall for the lie that it has to be something great and significant in order to make any real and lasting difference in the world. 

 Mother Teresa never had the slightest clue that picking up one dying man off the streets of Calcutta would result in an international movement of charity on behalf of the poorest of the poor. And Rosa Parks had absolutely no idea that her refusal to give up her seat on that segregated bus in Montgomery would become the catalyst for a worldwide awareness of racial equality and justice. Each one of them was simply activating their mustard-seed sized faith and started off by doing just one seemingly little thing that they thought needed to be done at that time and in that place.. But it just goes to show us that it’s absolutely amazing what God can do through one person’s mustard-seed-sized faith when we have confident trust in him.

Mother Teresa & Rosa Parks, 1981

Poor Lazarus Today

 

Deacon Dave · Poor Lazarus Today

Homily for the 26th Sunday of Ordinary Time, September 28, 2025. Amos 6:1-7; Gospel of St. Luke 16:19-31. Theme: Poor Lazarus Today 

Jesus’ Parable of the Rich Man and Poor Lazarus is more than just a story that was told 2,000 years ago. It’s been playing out in flesh and blood reality throughout history because there have always been and still are the “haves” and the “have-nots”. The moral lesson of this story is that the good we fail to do in this life will have a direct connection as to where we will spend our eternity in the next. The parable informs us that it was precisely because the Rich Man failed to do good to poor Lazarus, his neighbor in need, that he found himself in a terrible and eternal predicament. 

 Jesus began his story by pointing out that the man was dressed in purple and fine linen. Now, why would he have bothered to mention this detail? Well, he wasn’t making a fashion statement! Rather, his listeners knew that the hard-to-get purple cloth and the fine Egyptian linen were among the most expensive fabrics in the entire Roman Empire. For this reason they were worn only by the nobility. So, this told them that the man wasn’t just well-off but was in fact what we might call today, “filthy rich”. In other words, he could have done whatever it took, he could have done whatever was required, to help poor Lazarus. He had all the means at his disposal, but he chose to do nothing. He ignored him as if he was invisible and went about his complacent, self-indulgent life as usual. 

 Poor Lazarus, a broken and suffering human being, was right there at the front gate of the Rich Man’s estate but he simply and frankly didn’t care. He didn’t even do so much as lift a finger to help him. He could have sent a meal out to him. He could have had one of his many servants go and check on the sick man’s condition. Instead, he just left poor Lazarus there to suffer alone. And I’m sure his suffering was increased by the fact that he could smell the food cooking and could hear the festivities happening just a few yards away. The Rich Man was just like the complacent people in our First Reading who were lounging on their couches and stuffing their bellies as they neglected the plight of the poor. God condemned them through his prophet Amos because of their self-focused, self-indulgent lives. 

 Through this parable, Jesus is reaching out to us and asking us to examine ourselves and our own lifestyles. He is calling us to have a compassionate heart for the many poor Lazaruses who sit and beg at the front doors of our stores, on the corners of our streets, and throughout our neighborhoods and towns. He is directing us to see and acknowledge their human dignity, no matter who they are, no matter what they are, and no matter where they come from. He is reminding us that we have a serious moral responsibility to take care of the many poor Lazaruses who are suffering in so many ways today. So, how can we respond to them as individuals, as a church, and as a nation? 

As individuals, one simple but vital thing we can do is to treat the poor in a respectful manner. A priest who has a lot of experience in street ministry once told me a simple way to do this. He said that when seeing a beggar don’t just walk past them looking the other way, but extend a greeting to them. And if we have something to give, don't just hand it off briskly but ask their first name and then address them by it. This kind of response costs us absolutely nothing but is a powerful way to show that we acknowledge them as persons. It tells them that they are not invisible to us. It shows that we recognize their human dignity and are not just putting them in a box labeled: ”Just Another Dirty Beggar on the Street”. 

 And as a Church we are supposed to respond to the poor with the kind of words and actions that Jesus displayed for the sick, the suffering, the outcast and the vulnerable. And so when we as a Church encounter poor Lazarus today we know that we must feed his hunger and tend his wounds. And one doable way any of us can accomplish this as part of the Church is by participating in or supporting the Society of St. Vincent de Paul. Our parish Vincentians extend mercy and provide help to so many of our neighbors in need. They bring hope and strength to those who struggle just to survive. Your participation in or financial donation to the Society of St. Vincent de Paul is a beautiful way to become part of this response of the Church to poor Lazarus right here in Marin County. Our special collection today on this St. Vincent de Paul weekend is precisely to provide you with the opportunity to do this. 

 Finally, we must respond to the plight of the poor as a united people, as citizens of one of the wealthiest nations on planet Earth. We Americans have long felt a responsibility to look after the vulnerable, to show compassionate concern for the neglected and to care for the weakest among us. But our national heart seems to be hardening. Our attention seems to be turning in on ourselves. And as a result, many of the poor Lazaruses in our world today continue to suffer. But as Christian citizens we are called to be like the prophet Amos and raise a public voice on behalf of the needy. We are supposed to go and announce the Gospel of the Lord that proclaims Jesus’ and the Church’s preferential love for the poor, the vulnerable, the neglected and the weak. We have an obligation in our civic and political activities to help build a nation that is rooted in justice and that shows mercy to all without exception, no matter who they are or where they come from. 

 Our personal, as well as collective national consciences, should be pricked by Jesus’ parable and make us ask: “Why is poor Lazarus still suffering inhumane conditions in our well-supplied nation? What in our political and social systems are perpetuating his destitution? How can we as a united people better tend to his oozing social wounds and heal them? These are hard questions but we have a responsibility before God to ask and to answer them. For if we choose not to, then we run the risk of ending up like that unrepentant Rich Man of the parable. We will find ourselves begging for even just a tiny drop of water to cool the torment that we have brought down upon ourselves by our complacent self-focused lives as individuals, as a Church and as a nation.