26th Sunday in Ordinary Time: September 27/28, 2025

One of my all time favorite movies is Shawshank Redemption. I hope you are familiar

with this story of life inside a fictitious Maine prison told mostly by the inmate, Red, played by Morgan Freeman. In fact I have a fantasy to write a book entitled, All I need to know in life I learned from Shawshank Redemption. Like the importance of never loosing hope, the power of friendship, and the importance of setting goals. . .even if they

take several years to achieve.

At one point in the movie, Andy Dufrense, played by Tim Robbins, tries to teach the other

inmates the importance of names. A prisoner gets beaten to death by a guard his first night at Shawshank, and the next day at breakfast Andy simply asked the others, what was his name?

Andy, no doubt, knows that a person’s name is one of their unique characteristics, correctly using someone’s name is a subtle yet powerful way to show respect and build goodwill, while neglecting it can signal disrespect or a lack of care. . .

Andy fails at teaching the inmates that knowing someone’s name breaks down barriers,

it humanizes them, and honors their dignity as a person. The rich man in today’s gospel also fails at this lesson.

First the subtle message Jesus gives in this parable in his use of names, and this is, by the way, the only time Jesus gives a name to someone in a parable: the poor man, was

named Lazarus, a variant of Eleazar, which in Hebrew means: God has helped. God will help this man by sending angels to carry him to the bosom of Abraham but the rich man failed in helping Lazarus and we will get back to this. The rich man’s name is unidentified in the Gospel, but tradition has given him the name Dives, That’s Latin for “rich guy”, so readers of the Latin Bible began to treat it as his proper name.

Dives knew the names of the major players: he knew the poor man’s name was Lazarus, and he knew the man standing with him in paradise as Abraham, who we call our father in faith. Dives knew the names but the barriers were, still there, he knew the names, but there was no relationship formed. He knew the names but failed to honor Lazarus’ and Abraham’s dignity if he had he would not be in the pickle he’s in with that great chasm separating them.

As Lazarus sat at the gate of the rich man’s house, Dives must have walked by him many

times, but failed to recognize his need or simply ignored him all together.

This might sound familiar, for another time in St. Luke’s Gospel, we were told: a man fell

victim to robbers and was stripped and beaten. A priest happened to be going down that

road, but when he saw him, he passed by on the opposite side. Likewise a Levite came to the place, and when he saw the half-dead man, he, too, passed by on the opposite side. Both the priest and the Levite, failed to see the man in the ditch as their neighbor and so it is with Dives and Lazarus. St. Theresa of Calcutta once stated: “If there

is no peace in this world, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to one another.”

Isn’t that what’s going on in these two parables, and in our time?? We have forgotten that we belong to one another, and so fail to take care of those in most need of our mercy and compassion, or simply fail in just listening to one another…

And lying at the rich man’s gate, was a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores.

About a month ago in Luke’s Gospel, someone asked Jesus about the number of

people who will be saved. And Jesus responded “Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many I tell you, will attempt to enter but will not be strong enough.”

A professor I had in seminary, Dr. Brandon Scott, writes in his book: Hear then the Parable: A Commentary on the Parables of Jesus:

“In this parable, the rich man fails by not making contact. . . The gate is not just an

entrance to the house, but a passageway to the other. . . In any given interpersonal or social relationship there is a gate that opens up to the other. Those who miss that gate may, like the rich man, find themselves crying in vain for a drop of cool water.

“If only he had opened the gate, the gate of his heart, and experienced Lazarus as a fellow child of God, not just a tramp on the street, there would be no uncrossable chasm

between them now. He would not be stuck in the lonely hell of self-interest and self-isolation. “It turns out that the closed gate keeping Lazarus out, has also been keeping the rich man in. Even after death he remains in the prison he built for himself, behind the locked gate, preventing the communion for which every person is made. . .”

So can we dare to open that gate of our hearts, to the Lazarus’ we encounter?

Can we dare to humanize our encounters, by learning someone else’s name empowering

the dignity that each and every person has?

Or are we going to continue wrapping ourselves in our purple garments, and dine

sumptuously each day, and pass by safely on the other side of the road?