In this Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus tells the story of a rich man who dies—along with a poor man called Lazarus who he knew, but never helped.

Many will naturally focus on his refusal to help someone so obviously in need. (And rightfully so.) But I’d like to jump to the end and have a conversation about his last recorded request from the netherworld

“I beg you, send Lazarus (who was in heaven) 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.”

“Hey Father! Stop talking about money during Mass! It has no place in the Church!”

Once in a great while, a Catholic priest will hear something like this. Of course, more often, people with this mindset don’t have the courage to actually voice their complaint. No, they just spread poison to their friends or family.

“The Church just says it’s a sin to miss Sunday Mass because they just want a bigger collection.”

I’ve said it before—free will is great, when it belongs to you. But it becomes a problem when other people are allowed to use it.

Mercy works in much the same way. We love it when God has mercy on us. We hope others forgive our driving if we are having an emergency. We are grateful when folks give us a little latitude in the aftermath of personal tragedy.

But when God forgives someone who has hurt a loved one? When someone cuts us off in traffic? When someone doesn’t give us the high level of customer service we expect?

Wait a minute. Hold the phone. Stop the bus.

What is the blue sky is all this about Jesus instructing us to hate everyone (including our own lives) in this week’s Gospel reading?

I mean 90% of celebrities seem to suggest that Jesus was all about loving every person and supporting everything every person does or says.