In Sunday’s Gospel from St. Luke (Luke 16:19-31) we have a study in contrasts. With the Rich Man and Lazarus we see two very different spiritual profiles emerge. On the one hand, there is Lazarus, accepting his lot as a beggar, being inobtrusive, simply fighting hunger and craving food.  On the other hand, we have a wealthy man who is so caught up in his opulent lifestyle, that he acquires a blindness to the beggar, effectively making Lazarus invisible – effectively reducing his personhood to nothing!  One is courageous. The other is a coward.

The impoverished man of the parable sits there and he observes his entire situation; he lives it and is patient with it. He does not protest, does not resist, neither does he play the victim or show resentment.  No! he endures—much in the spirit of the Holy Prophet Job, who in resignation to God, amid profound suffering, courageously uttered the famous verse “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”(Job 1:21)  As His Eminence Metropolitan Panteleimon of Antinoes wrote of this passage: “In just such a way, each human soul must pin itself down and persist in what suffering comes our way if the soul wants to possess the spirit of those people who are saved, as the Lord’s parable describes.”  Persistence means salvation. Not giving in reveals a spiritual strength in us. It Is the strength of one who suffers.

In his end, Lazarus went to the “bosom of Abraham” – his spiritual home. In a sermon on Luke’s passage, His Eminence Archbishop Elpidophoros of America adds this regarding Lazarus: “It is interesting to note here that the rich man is not given a name in Christ’s parable, but we know the poor man’s name to be Lazarus.  In fact, Lazarus is the only hero in any of Christ’s parables to be given a name.”  In the epoch in which Lazarus lived, a person’s name meant everything – it was his highest honor. Jesus names him.

The wealthy man, on the other hand, endures a different ultimate fate entirely. Caught up with his material possessions, obsessed with his wealth and fortune, everyday he passed Lazarus by and was blind to his presence – willfully blind to human need, being bathed in his riches and reputation. From God’s perspective, as St. John Chrysostom puts it, “The rich man was already ‘buried’ in life by his “couches, rugs, furnishings, sweet oils, perfumes…wine, varieties of food, prestige and flatterers.  Because these things surely were his ‘god’ and his ‘god’ is temporal and passing—and so, everything he is and has is buried in the cold, lifeless earth with him.”   By his freely chosen lifestyle, and by his freely chosen blindness to Lazarus’ plight, he consigned himself to the isolation of the abode of the dead – to eternal estrangement from God.

There are many different directions a reflection on this Lucan parable may take. I want to focus on one of them – it is the spiritual message about the sins of craving and fear also known in the Patristic teaching as attachment (acquisitiveness) and aversion. (fear of losing).  Attachment is an irrational craving for the things of this world in the belief that in them we will find true happiness. “If only I had more money I would be happy.” “If only I had a better husband or wife I would be happy.” “If only I could have everything I want when I want it all my problems would be solved.” “If I could just win the lottery, watch out then!”  It has been observed that there are two ways to become unhappy – notgetting what you want and getting what you want.

Fr. George Morelli, an Antiochian Orthodox priest and psychologist expounds on this further: “Getting what you want brings only temporary happiness at best. Soon that temporal joy will fade away to be replaced by more craving and more craving. That is the fruit of attachment. Still another name for attachment is idolatry. An extreme version of which is addiction.” This is why the Fathers of the Churchtaught of the dangers of the passion of “acquisitiveness” – it causes craving for things not of God, and makes us blind and deaf to what brings us genuine happiness. In craving we short-circuit God.

Along with attachment comes its equally strong “twin brother.” Its name is aversion. Another name for aversion is fear. Getting what we want we then fear we will lose it or that someone will take it away from us – or that we don’t hve enough. The Fathers called this passion possessiveness. Inevitably we always lose what we attached ourselves to because either the result of getting what we desired isn’t as great as we hoped and we let it go, or the feeling of immense satisfaction gives way again to craving, or the thing we finally grabbed hold of fades away and dies because all things in this life are impermanent.

To borrow Shakespeare’s phrase from Macbeth: “Life is but a walking shadow. It is a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more.  It is a tale told by an idiot – full of sound and fury but signifying nothing.” All things are passing. This was an insight that the rich man in today’s parable was oblivious to. He possessed both attachment and aversion – the constant craving for more, thinking it would make him happy, and the chronic fear that he might lose it all. Lazarus was the casualty!  He was the casualty of human deception. He was a theophany of God that went completely unnoticed.

About attachment Jesus says, “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth where moth and rust corrupt and thieves break in and steal, but rather lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven.” (Matthew 6:19-21) In other words, the things on earth that pass away will never bring happiness or security. They are here today and gone tomorrow like the grass of the field. Only spiritual treasures are eternal.

About aversion, the Lord Jesus said “But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you,  bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.  If someone slaps you on one cheek, turn to them the other also. If someone takes your coat, do not withhold your shirt from them.  Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back.  Do to others as you would have them do to you.” (Luke 6:27-31)

Moved both by attachment to his wealth and aversion to Lazarus, the Rich Man made all the wrong choices. He could not see the poor man as his brother because Lazarus was a potential threat to his so-called “happiness.” Because of craving and fear the Rich Man did not find the middle road to salvation which was to see the poor man as his brother, his own riches as an opportunity for service, and service as the path to heaven. He would later learn how very unwise his decisions were when he ended up in the lake of fire, craving a drink of water but learning of the great gulf that existed between authentic happiness and the gulf of isolation and regret in which he now dwelt.

St. John Climacus, in his Ladder of Divine Ascent, writes that the spiritual life begins by recognizing what is wrong in our lives and looking for a solution. He calls this renunciation. Finding out what is causing our troubles we wisely choose to renounce them, surrender them, take our obsessive focus off of them – for they are but passing.  The second step St. John tells us is appropriately called detachment. Notice that detachment is the opposite of attachment! After we discover what is wrong we actually start to take steps to dislodge ourselves from those passing things we feel will make us happy, bring us fulfillment here and now, and become the de facto purpose of our lives. There is one purpose and one only – God alone.  This, Lazarus knew. This, the man of great wealth missed completely.  He lived a life of substitution not one of eternal purpose.

Let us examine our own lives. What drives us? What do we identify that we think will bring us happiness here and now?  Have we become blind to the “beggers” in our lives – the sick, the poor and destitute, those cast aside, victims of bigotry and prejudice, and those whom St. Augustine compassionately called “the unwashed masses?” Maybe it is a relative, a neighbor, a former friend, someone at our work, who “sits at our door” begging to be “fed” – not necessarily the bread of the world (though even that!), but  love and forgiveness without which their heart shrinks, grows numb and cold, and dies!   Whose attitude do we embrace most often – Lazarus or the wealthy man? The answer could determine many things in our lives, not the least of which is the very salvation of our souls..
I pray that all of us look within, name our attachments and our aversions, and, while there is still time, reach across that great abyss for the eternal waters, after which we will never thirst again…..never!

Faithfully in the Lord Who loves you,
Fr. Dimitrios