“There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores and longing to eat what fell from the rich man’s table. Even the dogs came and licked his sores.
The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham’s side. The rich man also died and was buried. In Hades, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. So he called to him, ‘Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.’
But Abraham replied, ‘Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been set in place, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.’
He answered, ‘Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my family, for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.’
Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.’
“‘No, father Abraham,’ he said, ‘but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’
“He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’” Luke 16:19-31
Today’s post is an excerpt from The Life of Fabiola.
“The first thing she did was to set up a nosochomeion [Greek word meaning “hospice” or “hospital”] into which she gathered sick people from off the streets and provided relief for the needy and nursed those suffering from various ills. Need I describe all those various human disasters – the broken noses, the eyes put out, the feet half withered, the hands covered in sores, the distended bellies, the thin shanks, the swollen shins, the diseased and decaying flesh swarming with maggots? How often did she bear upon her shoulders people infected with jaundice or filth? How often did she wash the wounds oozing with pus which most people could not bear even to look at? She prepared food with her own hands, and moistened the lips of the dying with sips of liquid.
I know many rich and religious people who are quite happy to bring this sort of relief to people by being generous with their money, as long as somebody else is actually doing the work. They have not the stomach to do it with their own hands. But I don’t blame them. A natural repugnance does not necessarily indicate a lack of faith. But while I may forgive them their weakness of stomach, I cannot fail but offer praises to heaven for the fervour of a mind which has perfectly banished such scruples. It was her great faith which enabled her to overcome.
I know what reward was meted out to the proud rich man clothed in purple who failed to do anything for Lazarus (Luke 16.23). The person whom we might despise, whom we can hardly bear to look at, to care for whom would make us vomit, is only another person like us, formed like us out of the same clay, built up out of identical elements. Anything that happens to him could just as easily happen to us. If we were to reckon the wounds of others as our own, then our own hard-heartedness towards others might be broken down into a realisation of our own need for mercy. If I had a hundred tongues and a hundred lips and voice like a trumpet, I still would not be able give you the names of all the diseases that Fabiola treated. She brought so much comfort to these wretches that many people even began to be envious of the poor! She exercised a similar liberality towards clerics, monks and virgins. What monastery has not been given a share in her alms? What scantily clothed or bed-ridden person has Fabiola not provided with clothing? Are there any needy persons upon whom she has not poured forth her immediate and unstinted bounty? And she found that even Rome was too narrow a sphere for her pity.”
Fabiola of Rome (died 399) in The Life of St. Fabiola. Life 25. Chapter 5.
Today’s Scripture recounts the story of Lazarus, whose name means, “God has helped,” and the rich man who failed to help him. Where do you find yourself in the story?
As I continue to enjoy reading the lives of the saints in the time of the early church and the desert fathers, Fabiola inspires me deeply today. This excerpt from her life demonstrates that those who help sacrificially, trusting in God to supply, can impact many in the name of Jesus and bring glory to God.
What inspired her? The secret lies in the story. It was a realization of her “own need for mercy” which is the only thing that breaks down hard-heartedness. This motivated her to serve the sick generously while other rich people would give as long as somebody else was “actually doing the work.”
Lord, help us each see our own need for mercy. Teach us that our own hands are the conduits of heavenly love and care and empower us to extend it to those in need in the name of Jesus. Amen.