This Sunday’s readings call us out of complacency.
Fr. Phillip Donlan, CP’s homily connects Amos’ warning and the parable of the rich man and Lazarus to today’s ecological and social crises, urging ecological conversion and solidarity with the poor and creation.
Today, the cries of the poor and the cries of creation are one.
True ecological conversion means more than “green practices”—it is a transformation of heart, a choice to live simply, love boldly, and walk with those who suffer.
Watch the full reflection:
Transcript
Prophets Then and Now
The prophets still speak. Prophets in times past as well as today announce the good news of the reign of God. Prophets also denounce, they reject, and they confront the ills and injustices of the day.
The prophet Amos confronts those who lie in beds of ivory, the ones who are lulled into spiritual slumber by luxury, indifferent to the ruin of creation and the plight of the marginalized. His words pierce through time and space. They echo into our current day, sounding an alarm in our own age of consumption, climate instability, and forgetfulness of the care of the earth—which is our common home.
The Groaning of the World
Today, our world groans not just beneath rising temperatures and polluted oceans, but beneath the weight of systemic injustice. Environmental degradation disproportionately affects the poor, the vulnerable, and those without a voice.
As Laudato Si’ powerfully proclaims, the cry of the earth and the cry of the poor are one. The opening of the great Vatican II document Gaudium et Spes says likewise: the joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of the followers of Christ are the joys, hopes, griefs, and anxieties of all of us.
To ignore this is to perpetuate the indifference of the rich man in Luke 16—living comfortably while Lazarus, and the other Lazaruses of our day, remain unknown and unseen at our gates.
God’s Justice and Our Stewardship
Psalm 146 reorients our gaze: the Lord secures justice for the oppressed, gives food to the hungry, and sets captives free. God’s preferential option for the poor calls for a conversion that is personal, communal, and ecological.
And it is not enough, dear brothers and sisters, to notice this from afar. It is important to remember that we are stewards, not owners. Every forest that is exploited, every river that is polluted, denies dignity—not only to creation but also to those who depend on it.
Paul’s Call to Virtue
St. Paul exhorts us in his first letter to Timothy to pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, and gentleness. These virtues are ecological as much as they are spiritual.
To live rightly is to live simply, and to live simply is to live well. It means resisting the seductive pull of excess and comfort, living in communion with creation and with those who are most affected when it is desecrated.
Lazarus at Our Gates
The parable of the rich man and Lazarus confronts us with a question not about eternity, but about our present reality.
Dear brothers and sisters, how many Lazaruses today do we see displaced by drought, poisoned by industrial runoff, or suffering tragedies such as those that took place in Texas? How many do we see in the migrant crisis, where people cross foreign borders—unknown, and even worse, unwelcome—while we wear our own purple robes and dine sumptuously?
Ecological Conversion
Laudato Si’ calls for ecological conversion. This is not merely adopting green practices—it is a transformation of heart, a true metanoia.
It means listening to the stories of communities displaced. It means fighting for policies that protect biodiversity. It means standing in radical solidarity—not just with sympathy, but intentionally—with those crying out under the weight of ecological injustice.
Responding with Courage
So, dear brothers and sisters, the reading of Amos should rouse us. The justice of Psalm 146 should guide us. The urgency of Paul’s letter should empower us. And the sorrowful gaze of Lazarus should humble us.
The earth is a sacrament. To care for it is to draw near to God and to others who suffer under the weight of injustice, suffering just as Lazarus did under the hand of the rich man.
Pope Francis says, “Living our vocation to be protectors of God’s handiwork is essential to the life of virtue.” And he exhorts us further: “May we not respond with complacency, but with courage.”
Walking with Lazarus
And so, dear brothers and sisters, let us arise from our ivory couches. Let us enter the gate and walk alongside Lazarus.
And it is there that we will meet Christ—in creation groaning, in the poor enduring, and also in the hope that redeems.
Wonderful reflection Fr. Phillip. My challenge is to heed the call so clearly expressed in your homily.