Should we continue to help relatives who ask us for money endlessly?
I recently had a conversation with a relative about another much older relative who seemed to be in perpetual need, as he always asked relatives for money. For much of his teenage and adult life, this older ‘needy’ relative depended financially on relatives who were his age and who were more closely related to him. He alternated between asking for handouts and numerous rounds of “startup” capital to fund a litany of failed businesses. Over time, this relative of ours lost respect in the eyes of older relatives, most of whom stopped paying him any mind. Desperate, he cast his eyes on us, the much younger generation, including those who are distantly related to him.
The relative of mine that I was having a conversation with was quite understandably upset that I disturbed her vacation by forwarding a voice note from our ‘needy’ relative requesting financial assistance. Although a kind soul, she felt particularly taken advantage of by this older relative, who, as far back as when she was a child, has been asking her own parents for money and has now taken it a step further by asking their children. She minced no words in telling me that she would not continue to perpetually help the needy relative.
As we carried on with the conversation, the Biblical story of the rich man and Lazarus came to mind. I found myself referring to that story while explaining why I thought we should perhaps continue to give alms to this perpetually needy relative if we have some idle change to spare. I wish to emphasize the word "alms" here, even though what the relative was asking for in the voicemail was money to start yet another business venture that was, from previous experience, bound to fail.
The Rich Man and Lazarus
The Bible records the story of the rich man and Lazarus in the Gospel of Luke 16:19–31. The rich man had so much money and ate the best meals every day. He was of a royal pedigree and had class, as the Bible describes him as being clothed in purple and fine linen.
At the rich man’s gate was a certain beggar named Lazarus. Quite symbolically, the Bible records that the beggar was clothed in sores. His bare skin was filled with wounds that dogs licked. For food, the beggar did not desire to be called to share the rich man’s sumptuous meal but rather to eat the crumbs from his table, which are destined for the dustbin. The rest of the story need not be emphasized in this piece, but in summary, at their deaths, fortune flipped for both in a most dramatic way: the rich man went to hell, while the poor man was carried to Abraham’s bosom.
A Beggar with Access
The beggar was not on a street where the rich man passes sometimes. The Bible notes clearly that the beggar was at the gate of the rich man. He had clear, unhindered, perhaps even legitimate, access to the rich man. The beggar was not a trespasser; he was definitely a member of the community of the rich man whose presence at his gate was not a threat. The beggar was at the right place at the right time. Perhaps this beggar was a relative of the rich man, which could be why the rich man did not ask his servants or the authorities to throw him out of this gate. Perhaps, Lazarus was even sitting on a patch of land owned by his own father, who was a kinsman of the rich man. Who knows?
What we know for sure from what plays out between the rich man and Lazarus is that we shall be judged by our treatment of needy people, especially those who have clear, legitimate access to us and to whom we can afford to give some spare change, i.e., the crumbs from our table. We must be careful how we treat people who have access to us, either through birth or other legitimate means. When people from that category are in a needy situation, we must carefully consider our response. There will be some beggars in our lives who have legitimate access to us and whose motivation for begging is not to enrich themselves or dramatically better their lives but simply to survive. These are people who our leftovers will serve a great need in their lives. The Bible records in Leviticus 23:22 that “When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not wholly reap the corners of your field when you reap, nor shall you gather any gleaning from your harvest. You shall leave them for the poor and for the stranger: I am the LORD your God.” When Boaz realized that Ruth was the daughter-in-law of Naomi, whose husband was a relative of his, he immediately instructed his servants to allow her glean leftover barley from his field. Infact he went on to instruct them to intentionally leave her some barley as they harvested (Ruth 2:15-16).
There are people who beg us but who are not at our gate. They are not connected to us in any strong, definite way, such as through blood, family relationships, or any long-term friendship. They are strangers who pop up on our social media DMs with tales of woes or those we meet on the streets. Acquaintances with whom we have occasional, surface interactions. Or they are those people we read or hear of who need help and who some organization or influential person mobilizes funds to help. They might also be random people who we run into who beg for help. To those people, I do not think we shall be judged for not strenuously going out of our way to help, especially in a situation where we do not have as such. Yet, for the beggar at our gate (those who are significantly related to us), who asks for nothing but the crumbs from our table, we shall be judged by our response. There are many people in our lives who have access to us, who are needy, but who do not beg us. We will not be judged for not helping such people.
I told my relative during the conversation that I have classified this older ‘begging’ relative as a Lazarus at my gate in my heart and will endeavor to give him what I can from time to time. However, I do not see myself running around to raise huge sums of money for him to start yet another bound-to-fail business. His long history of being unable to handle money for that kind of enterprise is part of the wounds in his body.
Purple and Fine Linen versus Sores and Dogs
Some people are born clothed with purple and fine linen. Others are born with sores or develop sores along the way as they journey through life, thereby attracting dogs that lick their wounds as we saw in the story of the rich man and Lazarus. This older relative of mine can be said to have been born with sores and has even developed additional sores on his body along the journey of life. My relative, who I was in conversation with, on the other hand, can be said to have been born with purple and fine linen and has also acquired even more purple and fine linen on her life journey.
The much I know about my older “needy” relative is that he lost his father as a little child. His widowed mother was left to care for him and his seven siblings, six of whom were older than him. His only elder brother would soon die, and the burden of being the eldest son in a society that places a huge burden of responsibility on that position fell on his young soldiers, while the burden of raising boys into men fell on his mother’s young shoulders. Whatever might have happened in his upbringing ended up seeing him drop out of school at a very early age.
Having grown up in a society that placed undue emphasis on wealth acquisition, he soon caved in to pressure and traveled overseas in search of greener pastures. While there, he got involved with the wrong crowd, got inducted into some shady business dealings and ended up in jail. All the way from Nigeria, his family worked hard and spent a great deal of money to get him legal representation. After many years, he gained his freedom. He returned to Nigeria briefly, only to leave again in search of greener pastures. He lived abroad for many years, apparently under extremely strenuous circumstances, such that,at some point, his siblings contributed money for a flight ticket for his return to Nigeria. They also wanted him to get married before he grew too old. For decades since his return, the burden of his upkeep and that of his family has rested on relatives.
I would call my relative’s travails the wounds and scars on his body. His inability to hold a job, to run a business are all wounds. Wounds can be self-inflicted and, by our actions,they can be difficult or impossible to heal. Whatever the case may be, God says that he gives seed to the sower and bread to the eater (2 Corinthians 9:10). There are people in life who will remain eaters of bread and never sowers of seed. Jesus told his disciples that the poor will always be among them (Matthew 26:11). What the Bible advocates is for us, those who are well-off and able, to make sure to give of our extra to anyone in need of survival. We are not to let these people starve to death or allow dogs to lick their wounds. Thankfully, my older relative is not homeless. He is not left to the vagaries of the elements where dogs can have free access to him. But dogs can also be symbolic of other harsh conditions that might expose him or his family to danger as a result of lack.
Like God, in whose image and likeness we are made of, we should learn to demarcate between those who we give seeds to sow and those whose needs are mere bread. My conviction is that my older relative qualifies in the latter category of needing bread, but not seed. He is like a Lazarus with access to me through my bloodline. While I will not encourage mediocrity, laziness and dependency, I also understand that I should be mindful to extend my spare change to those around me who need to survive off of it.