The biblical story of Lazarus at the gate of the rich man is not only about wealth but also about the silent danger of negligence. Lazarus never asked for bread. He only longed for scraps. The rich man never refused him, yet he still stood guilty, not for what he had done, but for what he had failed to do. This is the sin of negligence, the sin of omission, the moral weakness that closes our eyes to the Lazarus who lies nearby.
The Power and Use of Money
Money drives much of society. Due to its power, many regard it as an idol. For some, it fuels anxiety. For others, it feeds greed and corruption. The prophet Amos warned against this long ago (Amos 8:4–7). Yet money itself remains neutral. It has no life or power of its own. It can meet needs and provide joy. The problem comes from how people use it. As Scripture says, “The love of money is the root of all evil” (1 Timothy 6:10).
In Luke 16:1–13, Jesus explains the real value of wealth. He shows that money belongs to God, who entrusts it to us. It requires stewardship. We serve as trustees, not owners. As trustees, we are bound by two principles. First, money is a means, not an end in itself. It should provide for needs and strengthen relationships. Second, its use must serve God and one another. Christians cannot serve both God and wealth.
Scripture provides examples. The rich fool in Luke 12:16-21 hoarded his harvest and thought only of himself. Before he could enjoy it, God demanded his life. By contrast, Dorcas, or Tabitha (Acts 9:36–42), used her resources to help widows and the poor. God raised her from death, a sign of eternal life for those who live generously. James 1:27 reminds us that true religion means caring for orphans and widows while staying free from worldly corruption.
Omission and Negligence
I recall a childhood moment that shaped my approach to reading these stories. When I was in kindergarten, a nun showed us a movie about the rich man (Dives) and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31). The film portrayed the rich man as cruel, refusing bread to Lazarus. As a child, I thought he was heartless. Later, when I read the Scripture myself, I realized the movie went too far. The text says Lazarus longed to eat scraps from the rich man’s table. He never asked. The rich man never refused. He ignored him.
By human law, the rich man looked innocent. Lazarus never asked, so the rich man never refused. By God’s standard, he was guilty. His sin was omission. He failed to notice, failed to care, failed to act. Failure to do good can weigh as heavily as committing evil. Saint Augustine defined evil as the absence of good. Catholics recognize this each time we pray the Confiteor at Mass, asking forgiveness for the sins we’ve committed and the good we’ve failed to do.
The rich man’s negligence cost him everything, which means that despite the lavishness of his life, he lost the ultimate fulfillment of life. He let Lazarus suffer at his gate, though he had the power to help.
Today, many Lazaruses still lie by our doorsteps. They wait and desire for us to help. Some cannot ask. Some do not ask. Some ask and still receive nothing.
So, we must ask ourselves: What value does my wealth have if my neighbor goes hungry while I turn away? What value does money hold if it becomes a selfish trophy instead of a gift to share? What value does faith have if it never moves me to notice the Lazarus near me?
Where Real Value Lies
The value of money lies not in possession but in its use. True wealth grows in generosity. It lives in seeing the need that others ignore and choosing to act.
This week, let us remember: when good is left undone, evil gains ground. Virtue does not stop at avoiding sin; it goes further by choosing the good. Take a look around your home, workplace, and community. You will find a Lazarus nearby.
Blessed is the hand that gives more than the one that takes. Go for the good. Notice the person nearby whom no one cares to notice.
