What if Lazarus is me?

Scripture

Jesus said to the Pharisees: “There was a rich man who dressed in purple garments and fine linen and dined sumptuously each day. And lying at his door was a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who would gladly have eaten his fill of the scraps that fell from the rich man’s table. Dogs even used to come and lick his sores” (Luke 16:19-20).

Carl Jung on Self-acceptance[1]

“To accept oneself as one is may sound like a simple thing, but simple things are always the most difficult things to do. In actual life to be simple and straightforward is an art in itself requiring the greatest discipline, while the question of self-acceptance lies at the root of the moral problem and at the heart of a whole philosophy of life.

“Is there ever a doubt in my mind that it is virtuous for me to give alms to the beggar, to forgive him who offends me, yes, even to love my enemy in the name of Christ? No, not once does such a doubt cross my mind, certain as I am that what I have done unto the least of my brethren, I have done unto Christ.

“But what if I should discover that the least of all brethren, the poorest of all beggars, the most insolent of all offenders, yes even the very enemy himself—that these live within me, that I myself stand in need of the alms of my own kindness, that I am to myself the enemy who is to be loved—what then?

“Then the whole of Christian truth is turned upside down; then there is no longer any question of love and patience, then we say ‘Raca’[2] to the brother or sister within us; then we condemn and rage against ourselves! For sure, we hide this attitude from the outside world, but this does not alter the fact that we refuse to receive the least among the lowly in ourselves with open arms. And if it had been Christ himself to appear within ourselves in such a contemptible form, we would have denied him a thousand times before the cock had crowed even once!”

The grace I seek

I pray that I might love and accept myself.

Imaging

I imagine that I am the rich person in the Gospel. I leave my house one day but, instead of ignoring the poor person covered with sores who lies at my door, I turn and look. I discover that I know the person. The person is me. I look at my body covered in sores with dogs licking them. How do I feel towards that person (me)? What do I do for myself? How do I speak to myself?

Points for reflection