Send Lazarus to my Fathers House
In the parable of The Rich Man and Lazarus, the rich man, suffering in hell, asks Father Abraham to send Lazarus to his father’s house to warn his five brothers to save them from hell. His attempt, though not the core teaching of the parable, reveals a general truth, i.e., when a grievous thing strikes us, our natural instinct is to warn others, especially our loved ones, so that they would not suffer the same fate.
For one thing, the culture of the rich man — different from ours — tends to encourage such an effort. In that culture, a person does not exist as an independent entity, but as part of a larger group. Within the framework of a shared identity, social obligation always preempts the individual’s self-interests. In the case of the rich man, he is obligated to alert his brothers of an impending terrifying doom. He does so without obsessing with the possibility of being belittled as to why he has landed in the awful spot in the first place. For him, social obligation offsets how others would remember him.
The Japanese Culture
However, many cultures do not share this practice. I remember I had a conversation with a Japanese businessman over 30 years ago while I was still in China. During our discussion, he told me that what makes Japan different from many other places lies in the socially held belief that those who are fooled are more shameful than those who deceive. He told this with a sense of pride.
I still remember my reaction to his statement, instantly feeling a deep chill running down my spine. I’m not familiar with the Japanese culture and am not in a position to judge whether his assertion had representative power. But that was the last time I felt comfortable to converse with him, and I remember telling myself that I would never want to live in a place where a victim receives a harsher penalty than the perpetrator. Though such injustice only occurs in the realm of public opinion, a shameful putdown can be more pernicious than a judgment handed down by a court. In that culture, it’s unlikely a person would admit to being cheated, let alone warning others about the deception.
American Culture
After I immigrated to the U.S., I occasionally remembered my last in-depth dialogue with that Japanese businessman. His description of Japan’s alleged belief felt even more out of place within the American culture, the new environment I was in, for America is a place where a victim has a voice and is not despised. In fact, Americans are more inclined to help those who fall into the hands of evil men. Take a relatively recent example. At the inception of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, many around the world, reacting out of good well, booked reservations for Air B&B in Ukraine without using them. Fifty percent of the reservations were booked by Americans. Irrespective of which side is in the right and validity of such magnanimity, the picture is clear — America, besides being the freest country in human history, is also benevolent and compassionate towards a perceived victim.
Unlike the culture of the rich man in Jesus’ story, our individualistic culture does not encourage us to rise above our circumstances and do the right thing for the sake of our brothers. Perhaps, in our ME-centered environment, even our good works often display our egotism.
C. Snider
