Are you "talking to me?

Today’s gospel message of the rich young man who dines on fine foods, wears beautiful linen robes and lives the life of luxury as Lazarus lies dying on his doorstep—without food, without water, without the concern of those around him—is understood by some as an ancient warning to the audience of yesteryear—to those who lived during the time of Christ.

But this gospel is directed at us. Make no mistake about it, this Gospel of Luke is meant to be heard by those of us—and I include myself—who live comfortable lives right here in West Simsbury. It is meant to be heard—and heeded—by those of us who do not wonder where our next meal will come from or if our houses will be warm this winter or if our sheets are Egyptian cotton with at least 400 thread count. It has been said that Jesus came “to comfort the disturbed and to disturb the comfortable.” That would be this gospel.

In preparing for this Sunday’s homily I read a story of Pope Gregory the Great who in 597 AD sent missionaries to convert the Angles and Saxons of England to the Christian faith. When Edwin, King of Northumbria, heard the Gospel message, he held a council of his nobles to discuss this new religion. One wise nobleman concluded the discussion: “It seems to me, your majesty, that our human life is like a banqueting hall. You are sitting at table feasting, with the warm fire blazing in the hearth, while outside the wintry storm rages. A sparrow enters through the window, files the length of the hall, enjoying the light and warmth, and then flies out back into the cold wintry darkness from which it came. So with us. At birth we emerge from who knows where, and for a short time we live here on earth, with its light and comfort, but then we fly out back into the darkness. We know nothing of what went before and what comes after. If this new teaching can lighten the darkness for us, let us follow it.”

Today’s gospel story tells of an unnamed rich man who has no interest in “what comes after.” His lives life today—enjoying all the bounty and plenty of his world—in the present moment. If he even does believe in an afterlife, he certainly sees no connection to the next life with his current earthly life. Scholars note that such beliefs where not uncommon at the time of Jesus. The Sadducees, who were among the most affluent of the ancient Jewish world, believed that at death everyone, good and bad alike, went to Sheol, or Hades, the shadowy underworld of the dead. They believed that there was no reward or punishment for actions in this life. The rich young man in today’s Gospel of Luke seems to have lived that same belief.

Many in today’s modern do so too. For such like-minded folks in our modern and materialistic society their motto is “live for the moment.” The emphasis is on getting out of life the most for yourself and let the others take care of themselves. And such as the rich young man in the gospel, it is not that he does not see Lazarus outside his gate—for he recognizes him from Hades—but it is that he does not care; it is simply indifference. The rich young man and his modern day counterparts are living lifestyles of conspicuous consumption. It isn’t that he (or those in society today) is doing any harm to Lazarus—he is not violent to him—he simply ignores him. And he believes that his actions in this life have no meaning, no significance, and no lasting consequences.

Can we really believe that our actions have no consequences? That our indifference, our lack of concern for other human beings, our overwhelming interest in “me, myself, and I” do not register somewhere with someone? Talk about being disconnected.

As we consider this gospel account we must connect it along with the earlier parables and stories of Luke’s (and Mat-thew, Mark and John) recognizing the singular theme of Christ’s message: Love God with all your heart, all your mind, all your soul, and love your neighbor as you love yourself; that it is in service to those made in the image and likeness of God that we praise our God. :

So let us look at the bright side of the equation. This past Sunday our parish held its second annual Feed the Hungry car wash to help “Wash Away Hunger” in our part of the world. More than 80 teenagers from our parish’s youth ministry came together from before 12 noon to set-up and then wash cars until 3 pm. All four corners of Stratton Brook Road and West Farms Village were covered with teens (and watchful parents) as they enthusiastically waved cars in off the road and into our lot. Amid the sunny yet cool day, they washed and dried cars raising just shy of $7,000!

While the money is impressive, what is truly impressive is the caring hearts of our younger parishioners. With all the sports that are crammed into Sundays and all the homework that is required, with part time jobs and other duties heaped on them, it is absolutely amazing to see the antidote to “indifference” pouring out of the hearts and actions of your children. I am mightily impressed—and the support that these youth ministry teens receive from the whole of Saint Catherine of Siena Parish is tremendous. “The apple does not far fall from the tree” – that is for sure.

In the story of the rich young man he himself believes that a man rising from the dead will convince his brothers of the need to change their lives, their actions. But Abraham is unconvinced. The Law of Moses and the prophets speak long and loud on the issue of obligation to care for those who are poor. Today, Pope Francis speaks to this issue as have Benedict and John Paul II and the popes who came before him. Our Church has long taught about the preferential treatment of the poor. We cannot ignore God’s vision for humanity.

Our Catholic faith has always taught us that to reduce life to physical pleasure and consumerism is in fact to live an impoverished life. To live only for self, and purely for this life, is to cheapen what it means to be human. The Anglo-Saxon wise man we heard from in the earlier story told might say, this is the darkness which the light of the Gospel dispels. The light that we saw shining this Sunday as our youth washed away hunger one car at a time was certainly the light of the Gospel we are all called to shine. The Gospel—and our youth—reveal the true meaning of life: that practical love of neighbor leads to a fuller and more satisfying experience of life in the here and now, as well as in the life to come.