Luke 16:19-31, Thursday of the 2nd Week of Lent

The rich man, also called Dives, “dined sumptuously each day.” He had all the chances to help Lazarus who would’ve “gladly eaten of the scraps that fell from the table.” Would’ve. Ibig sabihin, dedma talaga si Dives. Hindi man lang namigay kahit kaunti. Well, both of them died and entered the afterlife. And something over there kicked in. Something took effect. God’s due process. Lazarus went up to where Abraham was. And Dives, down in the nether regions, hot and dry. Between them yawned an unbridgeable chasm.

Now that the tables had turned, Dives petitioned the heavenly judge if your honor could slacken the due process a bit and have Lazarus quench his thirst, kahit na isang patak ng tubig lang. “Sorry,” the heavenly judge ruled. “We obey due process up here. You had all the chances at due charity and due justice to Lazarus when he was within arm’s reach. Alas, this great chasm between us prevents any crossing to and from here above where Lazarus is and the nether regions where you are.” Not to be defeated, Dives bargained one more time. If Lazarus could please be his counsel and if your honor could please send him to warn his brothers about this place they would hate to be extradited to. “Sorry,” the heavenly judge ruled. “We obey due process up here. Your brothers already know the Law. Please refer to Moses and the Prophets.”

What a reflection of our proclivities, sisters and brothers, this parable of the rich man and Lazarus, isn’t it? While high and mighty with power and authority, we slight due process to get at our selfish ends. Worse, we couldn’t care less for the casualties we leave in our wake. Unfortunately, the law of gravity isn’t just scientific, it seems, but also divine: what goes up must come down. When divine gravity kicks in, we just don’t come down from our blithe disregard of God’s law. We free fall and hit rock bottom.

Once we’re grounded, we can still do some soul-searching. Yet another chance for repentance and atonement. But we don’t. Instead, we play the victim. “We’re being persecuted. We’re not given due process. We were unceremoniously surrendered to a power without jurisdiction over us.” Changing roles from victimizer to victim is also a tried-and-true modus to rally our friends over. We all just love an underdog. And we need human shields. The depraved slings and arrows we fired are in boomerang mode!

Why are we like this, sisters and brothers? Dives is such an accurate representation of us and our foibles. My use of the first-person plural “we” is deliberate, by the way. The Dives phenomenon happens not just to the people in the news that you probably have in mind right now. The Dives phenomenon also happens in smaller sectors. In our universities, companies, dioceses, seminaries, and ministries thrive victimizers who cannot care less about casualties. Yet, once caught, victimizers change roles and play the victim. And these people can be any of us. Lucky that we still have all the chances to know and follow God’s due process. Lucky that we still have all the chances for due charity, due kindness, due justice. We don’t need extra counsel to warn us. We already have Jesus, the fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets, due process Incarnate.

As we can see, sisters and brothers, it’s not just in the afterlife when the day of reckoning happens. It happens in this life, too. But regardless where or when, when God’s due process finally kicks in, we hope and pray to be on the right side of the chasm.