Something striking from the Gospel today is when the rich man calls out from Hades: “…send Lazarus that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue….” Send Lazarus. He knew the poor man who lay at his door by name. Yet, every day as he dined, he never thought to help him. And still later, he unashamedly asked for Lazarus to be sent to relieve his agony for just a second.
When I hear this, it makes me wonder: Who is my Lazarus? Who is lying at my door in need, yet I fail to see? We can take this in a literal sense, thinking of those we pass while walking, those without consistent homes, or guests at the soup kitchen. We can also zoom out and consider who is most in need of fundamental necessities or at risk of losing them. Have we been outspoken about justice for them—whether through funding or defunding, or through social and political change?
But there are others still: the coworker who constantly asks questions, the friend who has gone silent, the partner who seems tired. Do we see them, help them, and call them by name out of love, rather than out of use?
May we all use this season of Lent to draw close to the Lord and grow our roots so that, as seasons pass, we remain in His embrace. As we give alms, let us give abundantly and take the extra time to look around, realizing who we have come to ignore—whether right in front of us or just outside our doorstep.
