Thursday of the Second Week of Lent
Her sign read, “Homeless but not hopeless.” I dug into my wallet and pulled out some singles. Should I have pulled out a twenty instead? Bill reached out the car window to give them to her. And she gave us such a beautiful smile. Her eyes were bright and soft. Her expression of gratitude for our tiny gift was heartfelt. I was humbled by her and her response.
There’s no getting around it. Bill and I are so crazy blessed. We both teach at the University of Dayton. That means that not only do we have regular paychecks, health insurance, and a growing retirement investment portfolio but our two youngest children will graduate from UD with no student debt (thankfully, we can afford their room and board) and we get to live in a lovely house in Oakwood. We have to say it. We are rich.
So, as you might imagine, the reading from Luke’s Gospel for today is rather unsettling! It would seem clear that we have received what is good in our lifetimes and that we can expect torment when we die.
Again, I am humbled.
I don’t think there is any way to get around this text and what Jesus is trying to tell us. The rich man has purple finery and no name. The poor man waits for the scraps from the rich man’s table. Yet he is Lazarus. Jesus has a preferential option for the poor. And that is as it should be.
I think the question for Bill and me and anyone like us who is also rich is do we have a preferential option for the poor?
It’s notable that in this text we don’t know why Lazarus is poor. We don’t know where he came from or who his people were or why he couldn’t buy his own food or pay for shelter. All we know is that he is poor. And being poor is nothing but hard.
As I write this I am reminded of an African-American spiritual that I first heard by way of singer/songwriter (and more), Moby. The central lyric is “Oh Lordy, my troubles so hard. Oh, Lordy, my troubles so hard. Don’t nobody know my troubles but God. Don’t nobody know my troubles but God.” If you’d like to hear Moby sing this beautiful spiritual, you can go here. A 1937 version of the spiritual can be heard here.
I think about this lyric often. Whenever I encounter someone who is homeless or missing too many teeth or asking for a bit of cash, I think of this lyric. Don’t nobody know my troubles but God.
Next time, I am handing Bill the twenty.