The Other Side

Luke 16:19–31

Phrases that spoke to me today:

at his gate was laid a poor man named Lazarus he feasted sumptuously every day between us and you a great chasm has been fixed if they do not hear Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone should rise from the dead

Applying the Word to My Life:
When I was traveling to Austin regularly a few years ago, I would go to morning mass when I was there. One morning I called one of my sons on the way to wish him a happy birthday. The call ran long — we were still talking when I got to the church, so I stood outside to finish. When we wrapped up, there was a man sitting near the entrance who asked if I could spare some change.

I asked him his name. I asked who he was. We talked for a while — about his life, how he had gotten there, what his days looked like. I walked into mass right at the homily. It had taken that long.

After that I would see Martin every time I was in Austin. He had always been there. I just had not stopped long enough to see him until a birthday call made me stand still.

That changed something. I started moving differently — slower, more likely to actually look at the people around me instead of moving through them on the way to wherever I was going. Absorbed in my own affairs and relying on my own resources, I had walked past him every time. One unexpected pause was all it took.

I was in the same place the woman at the well was, the same place the rich man was. All of us turned inward, not seeing what was right in front of us. But the hiding looks different. Hers was shame — she came to the well at noon to avoid everyone. Mine was self-absorbed distraction. The rich man's was comfort. He feasted every day, dressed in the finest things, and everything he needed came to him. He had not had to stop for anything.

Lazarus was at his gate every day. Not one encounter that could be remembered and excused — every day, the same man, so constant and present that he became part of the scenery. This is not a portrait of dramatic cruelty. The rich man simply never stopped to ask anyone's name.

The woman at the well hid behind shame. This man hid behind comfort. Both were turned inward. Both were blind to the same opportunity. God was right there, every single day. The difference was what each of them did about it.

Even in the end, with everything made plain, the rich man still did not understand what Lazarus was. He asked Abraham to send Lazarus to bring him water — an errand. He still saw Lazarus as someone who could be sent. He had never stopped to ask his name.

The chasm between them didn't just spring into existence — it was the permanent form of the distance that had always existed. When he asked about his brothers still living, the answer was devastating: they had everything they needed to see. And if they would not look at what was already standing at the gate, nothing — not even someone returning from the dead — would make them look.

He had been there the whole time. All any of them had to do was stop.

My Response for Today:
Today I will stop long enough to actually see one person I would otherwise walk past.