The Rich Man and Our Desire for Fullness
Julián Carrón - We are no different from the rich man in the parable. Perhaps we do not live in such unbridled luxury, with “clothes of purple and fine linen” and “sumptuous banquets.” But this could ease our conscience so that we do not face the real issue, which is that deep down we think, like him, that our desire for happiness can be fulfilled by the possession of goods and participation in banquets.
We are not guilty of having a boundless desire for happiness. We are born with this desire for infinity, which constitutes us; we cannot help but desire the fulfillment for which we were made.
To be content with less would not satisfy the hunger and thirst for fulfillment that we feel within ourselves. Therefore, we cannot avoid seeking happiness in everything we do: behind our every move there is—consciously or unconsciously—the desire for fulfillment.
So, it is not strange that we try to fill it with everything we find in front of us. We find ourselves attached to things in order to satisfy it. But how do we verify this belief of ours? It would suffice to observe our experience to understand that nothing is enough to satisfy it. When nothing is enough for us, instead of asking ourselves why it is not enough and trying to understand, we launch ourselves into an even more frantic search for things that have already proved unsuccessful. Yet, after each new attempt, experience shows us once again that it is not enough.
For this reason, many end up becoming skeptical about the real possibility of finding an adequate response to their desire for fulfillment. This is the dramatic situation in which we often find ourselves. Who will free us from this deadly condition? This is where our true need emerges clearly. Wittgenstein described it brilliantly: "You need redemption, otherwise you are lost [...]. Light must enter, so to speak, through the ceiling, the roof under which I work and above which I do not want to climb. [...] This striving for the absolute, which makes any earthly happiness seem too petty... seems wonderful, sublime, but I fix my gaze on earthly things: unless ‘God’ visits me." (L. Wittgenstein, Diaries 1936-37).
Without God visiting us, we cannot escape the trap of our attachment to earthly things.
How do we imagine this “visit” from God? The rich man in the parable has his own hypothesis. We see this in his request to Abraham: “I beg you to send Lazarus to my father's house, for I have five brothers. Let him warn them sternly, lest they too come to this place of torment.” But Abraham replied, "They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them." And he replied, "No, Father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent." We look for a response with special effects: miracles and the resurrection of the dead, as in the case of Lazarus. However, the fear of hell alone would not be enough to free us from the attempt to possess things. Therefore, Abraham affirms that the only adequate response is the method used by God: “If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be persuaded even if someone rises from the dead.” God visited his people. Without this visit, any moral appeal is as powerful as it is insufficient.
In fact, unless each of us discovers the true answer to our desire for fulfillment, we will not be able to escape the spiral of possession. A more intense moralism, based on fear of hell, is not enough to free us. We need an attraction capable of captivating our freedom. Those who have encountered Jesus have it before them. With His coming, Christ brought into history the only treasure that can satisfy our urgent need for fulfillment: His presence! Only if, upon encountering Him, we experience His capacity for fulfillment will we be able to open ourselves to sharing our goods with others and to the needs of the needy. Christ offered the true answer to the origin of inequality, bringing unparalleled novelty. In fact, He came, as He Himself says, to bring us the life that no possession can give us: “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly” (Jn 10:10).
Those who have encountered this life, like St. Paul, consider everything else “rubbish” in order to gain Christ. If Christ does not bring that fullness to those who encounter Him, hell, with its “banquets” and “purple and fine linen,” has already begun in life, because it is too little for man's desire for fullness. We have what is necessary, even what is superfluous, but not what is indispensable to be overflowing, already in this life, with the fullness that our heart craves.
But Christ, “in his coming, brought with him every new thing,” says St. Irenaeus of Lyons.
This is the only challenge to our skepticism, to any attempt to be satisfied with less than all that our hearts desire. What tenderness we need to have toward ourselves in order to open ourselves to such fulfillment, to be free, that is, satisfied in our desire for fullness, so that we can share our goods with others, with any Lazarus we meet on the street.
26th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Year C Notes from the homily by Fr. Julian Carrón September 28, 2025 (First Reading: Am 6:1a, 4-7; Psalm 145 (146); Second Reading: 1 Tim 6:11-16; Gospel: Lk 16:19-31)
