1st Reading – Amos 6:1a, 4-7

Thus says the LORD the God of hosts:
Woe to the complacent in Zion!
Lying upon beds of ivory,
stretched comfortably on their couches,
they eat lambs taken from the flock,
and calves from the stall!
Improvising to the music of the harp,
like David, they devise their own accompaniment.
They drink wine from bowls
and anoint themselves with the best oils;
yet they are not made ill by the collapse of Joseph!
Therefore, now they shall be the first to go into exile,
and their wanton revelry shall be done away with.

This Sunday our first reading is once again from the prophet Amos.

Known as a great prophet of justice, Amos speaks a hard truth to the people of Israel: those who live in comfort and luxury while ignoring the suffering of the poor are storing up ruin for themselves.

Woe to the complacent in Zion!

The prophet’s condemnation could not be more severe. He pronounces woe upon the people; only funeral dirges begin in this way.

In doing so, he declares that those living in selfish ease are spiritually lifeless — and so a dirge is appropriate.

His rebuke is not against wealth itself, but the complacency that often accompanies it. Concern for others, especially the poor, is always a religious duty.

Lying upon beds of ivory, stretched comfortably on their couches,

Amos specifically censures their extravagant feasting. They recline on elegant couches luxuriously inlaid with ivory, indulging in long hours of leisure and luxury.

they eat lambs taken from the flock, and calves from the stall!

Their diet matches their surroundings. Meat was a rarity in ancient Israel, since animals were valued for work, wool, and milk; their slaughter was a sacred act. Yet the wealthy consume the tender lambs and calves ordinarily reserved for sacrifice, turning what is holy into self-indulgence.

Improvising to the music of the harp, like David, they devise their own accompaniment.

With biting irony, Amos contrasts the musical entertainment at their banquets with King David’s, whose harp was used to glorify God, not to heighten self-indulgence.

They drink wine from bowls and anoint themselves with the best oils;

The extravagance escalates. Instead of sipping from cups, they drink from great bowls. They perfume themselves with costly oils — signs of vanity and excess.

yet they are not made ill by the collapse of Joseph!

While the wealthy were focused on their revelry, the northern kingdom — descendants of Joseph — was crumbling socially and spirtitually. Living in excess, the elites of society are too busy indulging themselves to notice their nation’s ruin and the looming threat of foreign invasion.

Amos is scandalized by this disconnect: they should have been mourning and repenting, not reveling. Their indifference is the deepest offense.

Therefore, now they shall be the first to go into exile, and their wanton revelry shall be done away with.

Their privilege will not protect them. In an ironic turn of events, those who always thought of themselves first will be the first to be deported into exile. Their callous neglect of the poor will hasten their downfall.

(Within a generation, Amos’ warnings came true. The Assyrian empire conquered the northern kingdom in 722 BC, exiling much of the population.)

2nd Reading – 1 Timothy 6:11-16

But you, man of God, pursue righteousness,
devotion, faith, love, patience, and gentleness.
Compete well for the faith.
Lay hold of eternal life, to which you were called
when you made the noble confession in the presence of many witnesses.
I charge you before God, who gives life to all things,
and before Christ Jesus,
who gave testimony under Pontius Pilate for the noble confession,
to keep the commandment without stain or reproach
until the appearance of our Lord Jesus Christ
that the blessed and only ruler
will make manifest at the proper time,
the King of kings and Lord of lords,
who alone has immortality, who dwells in unapproachable light,
and whom no human being has seen or can see.
To him be honor and eternal power. Amen.

Today we conclude our study of Paul’s first letter to Timothy. With a personal message, Paul urges Timothy to live out his vocation with integrity, perseverance, and trust in God.

It is both a personal charge to Timothy and an exhortation to all who seek to remain faithful to Christ.

But you, man of God,

Immediately before this passage, Paul warns against those who have wandered from the faith because of their greed (cf. 6:10). He now turns to Timothy with a sharp contrast: “But you.” Timothy’s life must stand apart.

He is a “man of God” in the sense that he has been called to a specific ministry of leadership in the church, a title that echoes that of Moses and the prophets (Deuteronomy 33:1; 1 Samuel 2:27; 1 Kings 12:22, 13:1).

This identity extends beyond Timothy — through baptism, all the faithful are likewise set apart for God.

pursue righteousness, devotion, faith, love, patience, and gentleness.

Paul lists the virtues that mark a life dedicated to God. Righteousness is upright conduct; devotion is openness to God’s will; faith is trust in God; love is goodwill toward others; patience is perseverance under trial; and gentleness is the meekness that Christ himself embodies.

The righteousness Timothy is called to pursue is right conduct in human affairs. His position demands total dedication to God and faultless witness to Christ.

Compete well for the faith. Lay hold of eternal life,

Paul uses the image of an athlete pursuing a prize to highlight the effort needed to remain faithful.

This is not to suggest Paul thought one could earn eternal life. He teaches elsewhere that eternal life is a pure gift of God’s grace (Romans 6:23). Yet this grace calls for our cooperation: we must “fight the good fight” to persevere in faith and love until the end (2 Timothy 4:7).

The Church teaches that while no one can merit the initial grace of salvation, “moved by the Holy Spirit and by charity, we can then merit… the graces needed for our sanctification” (CCC 2010). In this way, Paul’s athletic metaphor stresses discipline and perseverance, not earning, remaining faithful so as to lay hold of the gift that God freely offers.

So when Paul urges Timothy to “compete well” and “lay hold,” he is underscoring the urgency of perseverance in faith, not suggesting salvation is won by human strength. The Christian “fight” is to remain in God’s gift until the end.

to which you were called when you made the noble confession in the presence of many witnesses.

This points to the profession of faith Timothy made at his baptism, which marked his entry into the life of grace.

I charge you before God, who gives life to all things, and before Christ Jesus, who gave testimony under Pontius Pilate for the noble confession, to keep the commandment without stain or reproach

Paul heightens the solemnity of his exhortation by invoking God, the source of life, and Christ, who bore witness to the truth even unto death.

Timothy must likewise keep the commandment of faith unstained.

until the appearance of our Lord Jesus Christ 

The horizon of this perseverance is eschatological: it extends “until the epipháneia,” the Second Coming of Christ.

The Greek word epipháneia literally means “appearance,” “manifestation,” or “shining forth.” It was commonly used in the wider Greco-Roman world to describe the visible manifestation of a deity, or even the glorious arrival of a ruler.

Paul adopts this term with a distinctly Christian meaning, using it six times in his letters, always in reference to Christ. At times it refers to his first appearing in the flesh (2 Timothy 1:10), but more often, as here, it points to his second, glorious coming (cf. 2 Timothy 4:8; Titus 2:13).

that the blessed and only ruler will make manifest at the proper time,

The timing of Christ’s return rests entirely with God, the “blessed and only ruler.”

“Make manifest” is deixei in the Greek, which means “to show, reveal, point out.” Unlike epipháneia, which describes the event itself, deixei stresses God’s agency: it is God who will bring about Christ’s appearing and unveil it at the proper time.

The interplay of these two terms underscores both the glorious certainty of Christ’s return and the absolute sovereignty of God over its timing.

For Timothy, and for us, the call is to steadfast fidelity in the present, confident that the fulfillment of hope lies securely in God’s hands.

the King of kings and Lord of lords, who alone has immortality, who dwells in unapproachable light, and whom no human being has seen or can see. To him be honor and eternal power. Amen.

This final doxology bursts into praise of God, drawing deeply from Jewish tradition to proclaim his universal sovereignty. Its phrasing and cadence suggest it may have been taken from an early Christian hymn.

Paul’s charge to Timothy is a charge to us all — to live as men and women of God, set apart through baptism, and to hold fast in faith until the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be honor and eternal power forever.

Gospel – Luke 16:19-31

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.
When the poor man died,
he was carried away by angels to the bosom of Abraham.
The rich man also died and was buried,
and from the netherworld, where he was in torment,
he raised his eyes and saw Abraham far off
and Lazarus at his side.
And he cried out, ‘Father Abraham, have pity on me.
Send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue,
for I am suffering torment in these flames.’
Abraham replied,
‘My child, remember that you received
what was good during your lifetime
while Lazarus likewise received what was bad;
but now he is comforted here, whereas you are tormented.
Moreover, between us and you a great chasm is established
to prevent anyone from crossing who might wish to go
from our side to yours or from your side to ours.’
He said, ‘Then I beg you, father,
send him to my father’s house, for I have five brothers,
so that he may warn them,
lest they too come to this place of torment.’
But Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets.
Let them listen to them.’
He said, ‘Oh no, father Abraham,
but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’
Then Abraham said, ‘If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets,
neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.’”

Having worked our way through several parables of Jesus, we now arrive at the story of Lazarus and the rich man. Like many stories in Luke’s Gospel, it is a tale of radical reversals.

Jesus said to the Pharisees: “There was a rich man who dressed in purple garments and fine linen 

Purple dye, derived from the murex shellfish, was exceedingly costly. Only royalty or the very wealthy could afford such garments.

The dye was so cherished that the veil of the Temple was made with this purple.

and dined sumptuously each day. 

At a time when most people lived on simple fare and reserved feasting for special occasions, this man lived in a state of continual luxury and self-indulgence.

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. 

The Greek translated here as “door” is pylōn, which is a gate, gateway, or large entrance, often to a palace or temple. This suggests the rich man’s estate had a grand entrance.

Lazarus, destitute and sick, was laid there — visible to the rich man each day, yet ignored.

Dogs even used to come and lick his sores.

For Jews, dogs were wild, unclean scavengers, not domesticated pets.

There are two major interpretations of their role in the story, both with theological weight:

• Lazarus is so weak and neglected that he cannot fend off even these despised creatures. This reading emphasizes the depth of his misery and total abandonment.
• Some interpreters suggest the dogs are accidental ministers of mercy, tending his wounds in their own way. In this view, the dogs show more compassion than the rich man or his household.

This second interpretation aligns with Luke’s broader theme of reversal: the lowly and despised often reveal more humanity than the elite and powerful.

Note: Lazarus was not a leper; if that were the case, he would not have been allowed to enter the city.

When the poor man died, he was carried away by angels to the bosom of Abraham.

This brief line carries immense meaning. First, it reveals the dignity of Lazarus, whose body received no earthly honor at death but whose soul was escorted by angels — a sign of divine favor and of the invisible glory that surpasses earthly splendor.

The “bosom of Abraham” is a Jewish image of fellowship with the patriarchs in the age to come, evoking the place of honor at a banquet where one reclines on another’s chest (John 13:23). To be in Abraham’s bosom meant to share in the blessing promised to Abraham’s descendants — the covenantal inheritance of life with God.

In Jewish thought of the time, belief in the afterlife was not uniform. The Sadducees denied the resurrection of the dead (Acts 23:8), while the Pharisees affirmed it. Jesus’ parable resonates most closely with Pharisaic belief: the just will be gathered to the fathers, awaiting the resurrection.

The rich man also died and was buried, and from the netherworld, where he was in torment, he raised his eyes and saw Abraham far off and Lazarus at his side. 

The Greek term for “netherworld” is Hádēs, the unseen realm of the dead.

In Hebrew scripture, the corresponding term is Sheol, a shadowy underworld where all the dead, righteous and wicked alike, were thought to reside. Sheol is often depicted as a place of silence, forgetfulness, and distance from God (Psalm 88:12; Job 10:21-22).

In its earliest conception, Sheol was not a place of moral judgment but of mere existence after death. However, by the Second Temple period (roughly 500 BC to AD 70), Jewish thought had developed further: the realm of the dead came to be pictured with distinct destinies. The just awaited consolation “with the fathers,” while the wicked suffered separation and torment. This gave rise to the imagery of “Abraham’s bosom” (a place of rest for the righteous) in contrast to a place of fiery punishment for the unrepentant.

And he cried out, ‘Father Abraham, have pity on me.

Note that both men are referred to as sons of Abraham, underscoring their covenant bond.  As fellow Jews, they had covenant responsibilities toward one another, particularly the rich man toward the poor man.

Send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am suffering torment in these flames.’

The rich man recognizes Lazarus by name, proving he had always known him. His request betrays a lingering sense of entitlement — treating Lazarus as a servant even in the afterlife!

Abraham replied, ‘My child, remember that you received what was good during your lifetime while Lazarus likewise received what was bad; but now he is comforted here, whereas you are tormented. 

Abraham explains to the rich man that the positions of the two have now been reversed.

Lazarus is comforted in the afterlife not because he was poor, but because he placed his hope in God. His name, which means “God has helped,” suggests a posture of trust and dependence.

The rich man, by contrast, is not condemned for his wealth but for his indifference; he lived in luxury while ignoring the suffering at his own gate. His torment reflects a life of self-enclosure: luxury without compassion, comfort without conscience.

The parable hinges on moral response to suffering, not mere social status.

Moreover, between us and you a great chasm is established to prevent anyone from crossing who might wish to go from our side to yours or from your side to ours.’

This “great chasm” signifies the permanence of one’s state after death.

“When Abraham said to the rich man ‘between us and you a great
chasm has been fixed…’ he showed that after death and resurrection there will be no scope for any kind of penance. The impious will not repent and enter the Kingdom, nor will the just sin and go down into Hell. This is the unbridgable abyss” (Aphraates, Demonstratio, 20; De Sustentatione Egenorum, 12).

He said, ‘Then I beg you, father, send him to my father’s house, for I have five brothers, so that he may warn them, lest they too come to this place of torment.’ 

The rich man, still self-focused, seeks relief for his own family, who presumably exhibit the same indifference toward the poor as he did. He treats the saintly Lazarus as an errand-boy, even from the netherworld.

But Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets. Let them listen to them.’

The rich man’s brothers, like himself, have the Scriptures. The call to care for the poor is woven throughout the Law and Prophets. No new sign is necessary.

He said, ‘Oh no, father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’

The rich man, himself not having listened to Moses or the prophets, does not think this is enough. He insists that extraordinary signs are required.

Then Abraham said, ‘If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.’”

The parable ends with a piercing irony. Even the miracle of resurrection will not move hardened hearts.

Jesus himself will rise from the dead, and yet many will not believe.

“I ask you and I beseech you and, falling at your feet, I beg you: as long as we enjoy the brief respite of life, let us repent, let us be converted, let us become better, so that we will not have to lament uselessly like that rich man when we die and tears can do us no good. For even if you have a father or a son or a friend or anyone else who might have influence with God, no one will be able to set you free, for your own deeds condemn you” (Saint John Chrysostom, Homilies on 1 Corinthians).

Connections and Themes

The perils of complacent wealth. This week, we again take up the question of responsible management of money and the social relationships that influence it. All three readings warn against the false security of comfort and luxury without compassion.

In our first reading, Amos condemns the wealthy who indulge themselves, oblivious to the ruin of their people. In the Gospel reading, the rich man likewise feasts daily, blind to Lazarus’ suffering at his very gate. In the second reading, Saint Paul urges Timothy to pursue righteousness and not to place hope in riches, which stands in sharp contrast to the passivity of those who look away from their neighbor’s need.

When wealth numbs us to the suffering of others, it becomes a spiritual danger rather than a blessing.

Judgment and accountability before God.  A sobering theme runs through these readings: the reality of judgment. Amos warns his people that their neglect of justice will end in exile, while Jesus’ parable depicts a great reversal after death, where the rich man, once secure and comfortable, finds himself in torment while Lazarus is comforted in Abraham’s bosom. Paul, too, urges Timothy to keep God’s commandment unstained until the appearance of Christ, hinting at the eternal weight of fidelity.

The Catholic Church teaches that each of us will face the particular judgment, where we are rewarded or punished immediately after death in light of our deeds (CCC 1022). This judgment is not primarily about legal obedience but about covenant faithfulness — how we respond to God and to the needs of our neighbor. The rich man’s failure was not active cruelty but indifference, and indifference itself is a grave sin. These passages remind us that God’s mercy and compassion never nullify His justice; our choices matter eternally, and we are called to live with responsibility and love.

Covenant responsibility. When life feels secure, it is easy to assume we are entitled to our blessings, especially in cultures like ours that value and reward individualism: “I earned this, so I may enjoy it however I please.” Yet biblical covenants are not individualistic but communal. God’s covenants bind communities of people, not isolated persons, and they carry both rights and obligations rooted in relationship with God and with one another.

This is why the prophets made social justice a central concern: Faithfulness to God cannot be separated from responsibility for neighbor. The figures in our readings today are not charged with blatant wrongdoing but with sins of omission — sins that flow from a casualness toward covenant commitment. Have we, too, neglected the responsibilities that flow from belonging to God’s people?