Jesus said to the Pharisees:

“There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. He called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.’ But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.’ He said, ‘Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father’s house— for I have five brothers—that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.’ Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.’ He said, ‘No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.’ He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’”

New Revised Standard Version, copyright 1989, by the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved. USCCB approved.

Those who have walked through recovery often become the best guides for others. Having learned the cost of their choices, they want to warn those still headed down the same path.

In today’s Gospel, the rich man realizes too late what he ignored in life: Lazarus was at his gate every day. Jesus does not accuse him of cruelty, only of indifference. He did not beat Lazarus or drive him away. He simply stepped over him. He feasted while another starved. Over time, that daily indifference hardened into a permanent chasm.

This is the warning of the parable. Indifference is not neutral. It shapes eternity.

We are not so different. We lament global tragedies yet fail to act locally. The shelter down the street could use an extra volunteer. A small nonprofit might welcome an accountant to steady its finances. An elderly neighbor waits for a visitor. Meanwhile, we remain comfortable.

For many of us, myself included as a vowed Jesuit Brother, comfort has become its own quiet feast.

The rich man is trying to warn us.

Who is at your gate? And what will you do about it?

—Br. Bobby Nichols, SJ, is a Jesuit of the Midwest Province serving as a Campus Minister at Loyola University Chicago.

Lord, 
Save me from indifference. 
Open my eyes to the Lazarus at my gate. 
Disturb the habits that keep me comfortable, and 
insulated from the suffering of others.

Give me the courage to find comfort in my discomfort. 
Free me from me feast of self-protection.
Teach me to recognize your face in those I overlook. 

Inspire my heart to respond with love, so that I am no longer numb to the world.
 Amen

—Br. Bobby Nichols, SJ