The Danger of Indifference by Father Ian Maher

The Danger of Indifference

by Father Ian Maher

The story of the rich man and Lazarus is a striking lesson about indifference to those who are in need, and the fact that there are consequences for both the haves and the have nots. This is certainly something worth reflecting on during this time of corona virus.

Lazarus, we are told, struggled to survive, receiving nothing from the kindness or generosity of the rich man, but scraping out an existence from what fell from the abundance of the rich man’s table. Jesus does not say in the story whether the rich man was a cruel or unkind person, only that he lived his life in luxury and was seemingly oblivious to the plight of the poor man who was living in plain sight.

In the picture painted in the gospel, both Lazarus and the rich man die and experience very different destinies. The poor man is carried away by the angels to be with Abraham, presumably in heaven, and the rich man finds himself in Hades. One is close to God, one is separated from God.

With all his worldly wealth stripped away, the rich man sees Lazarus at a distance and cries out to him for help, only to be told by Abraham that it is too late for him. The gulf has been set and there is no way back. He has no way of putting right his failure to respond to the need that was right in front of him, nor of warning his brothers against making the same mistake.

It is a vivid story and one that some have used to argue for belief in a literal hell. I think that is a mistake and that the striking images are more about prompting the listener to think about what they might do in the here and now to make a difference to the needy and less fortunate whom we come across in our day-to-day life. Jesus often used hyperbole to make a point.

Surely, hell for the rich man was in recognising, too late, the good that he could have accomplished in life, not least in reaching out to Lazarus whose suffering had become invisible to him?

This can be true for us as individuals, churches, communities and nations. We can miss the chance to meet the need that is right in front of us. The fact is that the opportunities that we miss to help the people who are overlooked, ignored and pushed to the margins – and yet are within our power to help – may not come our way again, leaving us with desperate regrets.

With the coronavirus pandemic continuing to affect people across the world, and here in our own country, it is beholden upon all of us to be aware and remain alert to the needs of those who might otherwise, like Lazarus, remain unseen and unheard, but to whose lives we are able to make some small difference.

I’m not suggesting that we are living in the lap of luxury like the rich man in the story, but we might just in our relative comfort while fit and well, and maybe preoccupied with our own worries and fears, fail to see the needs of the vulnerable in our streets and neighbourhoods.

So let’s keep our eyes and ears open and be aware of the practical acts of care and kindness that are within our power to offer, and ensure there is more than enough compassion to go around. Sometimes, a need to which we could make a real difference might be right in front of us, just as Lazarus was at the gate of the rich man.

We remain, of course, limited by the pandemic restrictions but there is still much we can do for others in need. May we not miss our chance but be vigilant about the danger of indifference.

I am a priest and minor canon at Sheffield Cathedral. My last post prior to retirement from stipendiary ministry was as the Multifaith Chaplaincy Coordinator and Anglican Chaplain at Sheffield Hallam University, where I worked for 12 years.

https://imaherblog.wordpress.com/ Twitter @IanMaher7

One Good Lick

by Dalton Ruer

Blood coursed through her veins like water flowing through the mighty Nile River during rainy season. She rounded the corner onto Elm Street and her heart strained to keep pace with her legs as she was now in a full-on sprint. Bobbing, dodging, and ducking around pedestrians as though she was a highly paid player in the National Football League seeking the end zone. Her father would have been proud if he had seen this, Lord knows the man had never been proud of her for anything else. Although all her other senses disagreed, she listened to the faint whisper of her sixth sense saying, "go in here." She pulled the door with such force that it gained the attention of nearly the entire lunch crowd at Provino's. You would have sworn she was an auctioneer the way her eyes frantically darted the restaurant. Searching eye contact. Searching some sort of bid of information that would help her. Finally, one of her former real estate clients raised his hand and pointed towards the back.

Too tired to even say thank you, she immediately returned to her running back ways. Weaving around tables, nearly missing a waiter carrying a tray full of the day's specials. "Boom" the back door sounded as she crashed through it. The lack of oxygen was finally too much for her and she bent over. Her hands went to her knees as she gasped for air as though an athlete that had forgotten their inhaler.

"Think Damnit!" Her brain shouted at her in the way her father had so many times. She was frozen in place as exhaustion had replaced explosiveness. Like a marine snapping to attention, she found herself suddenly upright. Her brain had quickly transformed the clanging of the trash cans around the alley and wailed at her again … "THAT WAY!" Her elusiveness eluded her momentarily, and she tripped on the wheel stop of the last parking lot. She stumbled but kept going. "Keep going. KEEP GOING!" Her mind constantly echoed. The obstacles today were pretty much a metaphor for her entire life. The chant was nothing she hadn't heard a million times, so she pressed on. "There he is. Just a few more steps." Jeanie's brain barely murmured to her as though a student unsure of the answer they were about to give. Fortunately, Bear had found the remnants of a hot dog that Justin O'Brien had thrown on the ground. The boy was none too happy that his father had given him the mustard covered food. Everyone in town knew that Justin loved ketchup. Fortunately for Bear, and Jeanie, his father's mind was elsewhere today. The distinctive "click" of the thick metal leash clasp engaging drowned out her heavy panting. Although, not for long. "Bad boy!" was all that Jeanine Andrews said to Bear as she began the long walk back to her small loft apartment above old man Johnson's hardware store. As it always does, the fatigue and emotional distress had taken its toll on Jeanie. Her normally exaggerated stride was now reduced to little more than a slow one foot in front of the other straight line walk across a balance beam. Bear seemed to match the pace as one might if they were being checked for a DUI by the police. Once inside her apartment she slammed the door. Her lungs, like a freshly filled balloon, let out only 2 words "BAD BOY!" She unclicked the leash and laid it on the counter. Oh, who am I kidding, she slammed it on the counter. It's hard to imagine a Saint Bernard slithering, but I'm telling you, that's exactly how that poor boy made his way to his bed.

Jeanie was quite a sight herself. Rigidly moving around and mumbling to herself. Back and forth. Forth and back along her post she paced. The scowl never leaving her face just like a Queen's Guard at Buckingham Palace. "Get a dog she said" "It will be good for you she said" "You need a companion she said." She paused momentarily as the memory of the previous Sunday flooded her mind as Katrina had done to New Orleans. She walked in the doors of the humane shelter not knowing what she would do. It was as dull, and gray and sterile as she had expected. But as she approached the counter the overpowering smell of Tom Ford, "Bitter Peach" perfume certainly wasn't it. "Carmen is that you?????" She asked, legitimately puzzled, to the women behind the counter doing paperwork. It was now Carmen who was bewildered as she turned and answered "Yes." She'd recognized Jeanie's slight southern twang and didn't like this situation one bit. "Wait for it … wait for it … " Carmen knew what Jeanie was about to say "…. and here it comes." "Why are you working here?" Jeanie asked, as though her mind was in a fog. No longer bewildered, and now seemingly snarky Carmen snapped back "Because I quit selling real estate. Just like you did. Obviously!" The apprehension and fear in Bear's eyes finally caught up to her and she snapped out of her selfinduced coma. He was shaking as someone with untreated tremors might. Just as he had been when she walked through the Humane Society to choose her companion. All the other dogs were jumping and yapping, but his loneliness and longing resonated with her. Though he had only been her companion for 9 days, that look tugged at her heart. His shaking tugged at her heart. Suddenly she realized she had treated him the way her father had treated her. "He's made such great strides trusting me, and now this." The guilt of breaking Bear's spirit overtook her. She wept on the floor beside him as she had for days after her MiMaw passed away. Gradually she began rubbing her knuckles into the area surrounding his ear the way he seemed to like. Then massaging his shoulder blades. After what seemed to her like her 100'th "I'm sorry" she could finally feel the tension in is body subside. Suddenly as her Pink Cashmere polished nails combed the fur of his massive chin, Bear apologize as well. She could feel his tongue tentative lick the back of her hand. Then another. Then it came, one good lick right on her cheek. Followed by another really wet, really sloppy one. The kind of nasty, slobbery lick that separates dog lovers from the rest of the sane world.

Time seemed stand still as the saline filled, outward tears, of both were gone. They played and wrestled on the floor like 2 bear cubs whose momma was trying to catch dinner. As Jeanie finally stood, inward pain set in. Not in her knees or hips like an old person, the kind of pain only felt by a daughter who had never forgiven her father. For in that moment she realized that she wanted the joy that Bear was feeling after forgiving her. She just wasn't sure how. For she had killed him by accident when she finally defended herself 6 years ago against his abuse. Fortunately, the sadness was quickly gone as her brain also gave her one good lick. "Millie was right … again … just like always." What on earth would she do without Millie? What on earth would she do without Bear?

Contributions by Hannah Howe

I ordered a bed from IKEA the other day. They sent me a tree trunk and a saw.

I’m not saying that I’m getting old, but the other day I went to an antique auction and three people offered bids for me. A friend said to me, “The next time you receive a call from an unknown number, answer it and say, ‘The job is done, but there’s blood everywhere.’ Then hang up.” I tried it. Trouble is, the caller phoned back and said, “Good, I have another job for you...”

Pro tip, an exercise for people who are out of shape: Begin with a five-pound potato bag in each hand. Extend your arms straight out from your sides, hold them there for a full minute, then relax. After a few weeks, move up to two ten-pound potato bags. Then try 50-pound potato bags. Eventually, try a 100 -pound potato bag in each hand and hold your arms straight for a full minute. Once you feel comfortable at that level, put a potato in each bag.

Pro tip for husbands. The best way to remember your wife’s birthday is to forget it once.

Over dinner, I explained the health benefits of a colorful meal to my family. "The more colors, the more variety of nutrients," I told them. Pointing to our food, I asked, "How many different colors do you see?"

"Six," said my daughter. "Seven if you count the burned parts."

April Dilemma

by Maressa Mortimer

Should I go out? I will need my fluffy coat, it is chilly. Even though the sky is blue, no cloud to block the watery sun.

Maybe I should do gardening; do some digging, some pulling weeds. Some planning for the start of Spring or simply go for a long walk in the valley.

Then there’s the way back up and it might still be muddy. Cold too, in the shady parts, and my boots will rub. Maybe another day, when it’s warmer.

Should I tidy up outside? Get the garden chairs out, straighten the tables. Soon it will be warm, the sunlight bright And I will move my office into the garden. Maybe I could...I look again. The sunlight no longer golden on the grass. I glance at the sky, no blue, just a grey stain blocking out the watery sun.

The rain arrives as, with a sigh, I put my leather boots away, I hang my coat, picking up my coffee. I’ll be working indoors today.

My name is Maressa Mortimer, and I’m Dutch. I live in the beautiful Cotswolds, England, with my husband who is a pastor. We have four (adopted) children. I’m a homeschool mum, so my writing has to be done in the evening, when peace and quiet descends on our house once more. I love exploring questions of faith using novels, as it helps me to see what faith looks like in daily life. My debut novel, Sapphire Beach, was published December 2019. My latest novel, Walled City, launched on December 5th and I’m nearing the first draft of its sequel!Visit my website www.vicarioushome.com to buy signed copies from the shop.