Am I the Rich Man?

In case you're not familiar with Jesus' story about Lazarus and the rich man, you can read it here (http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke%2016:19-31;&version=31;).

All my life I've thought that if I had been the rich man, I would've been appalled that a poor beggar, covered with sores, was at the end of my driveway, needing help, and I would then do something to help him.

But this past Sunday, when the story was mentioned again, I realized that reality may not mesh with my self-righteous imaginations.

For one thing, I'm thinking from a modern, middle-American lifestyle point of view, where the beggar is at the end of a 30-foot long concrete driveway, sitting on the curb. However, as I got to thinking about it, this rich man probably had a long winding drive, which was gated at the street. If I had been the rich man, I would not be quite so likely to notice the beggar with him that far from the house, except when I'm coming and going, and by the time I got [back] to the house, I would have forgotten about him.

Until my guests arrived, that is. The rich man was probably receiving all sorts of wealthy guests. So if I had been him, I now have to concern myself with the comfort of my incoming guests; they're not going to want to be bothered by a bum, no more than you like getting stopped at a traffic light next to a panhandler.

For another thing, if I feed this bum, or send some medicine out to treat his sores, he'll tell his friends, and tomorrow there will be four bums at the end of my drive looking for a handout.

For a third thing, aren't there places in town that are designed to take care of this bum? Don't the priests at the Temple have some sort of system to take care of the poor?

And it began to dawn on me that I'm not sure I would have acted any different than the rich man did.

Wow. What a revelation.

This was all brought home to me last night as I was sitting in the car downtown waiting for someone. A beggar lady came up to the car, asking for a handout. I had seen her before, and knew her story to be a lie. And I was glad I didn't have any money on me, telling her that nowadays I pretty much only carry a check-card (which is true).

But as she walked away, I wondered if perhaps she was Lazarus, and I was the rich man.

A couple of days ago I read part of the blog of a homeless man (it's in vogue now for homeless people to be given old laptops and to blog from their local public hotspot). He said that typically homeless people have some sort of "issue" that prevents them from having a job or functioning in society. Sometimes it's mental illness, sometimes it's alcoholism or drug addiction, sometimes it's an intermittent physical condition (like migraines) that might allow a person to work for months, but then might require a month or two worth of sick leave - what employer will keep an employee that needs to take off two months out of every nine?

My self-righteous attitude thinks, "Well, they shouldn't be addicted to drugs", or "It's their own fault for starting to drink alcohol in the first place."

I also tend to think, "Our society has safety nets for people like this; if they really need help, they can seek out the safety nets."

What horrible condemnation awaits me from the rich man, who didn't hear a story like his as a warning all his life?

Someone else, a former alcoholic and drug addict, warns me against giving to people like this, as it feeds their addiction. This, of course, just adds to my self-righteous justification of not giving a dollar to these people.

Another reason to not give is that I've heard that these intersection-located panhandlers make two or three hundred dollars a day. Wow! That's pretty good money.

So I'm really torn. Am I feeding the addictions of con-artists if I give them a buck, or am I the rich man, bound for torments, if I don't?