The Rich Man and Lazarus
Luke 16:19–31
“Now there was a certain rich man, and he was clothed in purple and fine linen, living in luxury every day. A certain beggar, named Lazarus, was taken to his gate, full of sores, and desiring to be fed with the crumbs that fell from the rich man’s table. Yes, even the dogs came and licked his sores. The beggar died, and he was carried away by the angels to Abraham’s bosom. The rich man also died and was buried. In Hades, he lifted up his eyes, being in torment, and saw Abraham far off, and Lazarus at his bosom. He cried and said, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue! For I am in anguish in this flame.’ “But Abraham said, ‘Son, remember that you, in your lifetime, received your good things, and Lazarus, in the same way, bad things. But here he is now comforted and you are in anguish. Besides all this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed, that those who want to pass from here to you are not able, and that no one may cross over from there to us.’ “He said, ‘I ask you therefore, father, that you would send him to my father’s house— for I have five brothers—that he may testify to them, so they won’t also come into this place of torment.’ “But Abraham said to him, ‘They have Moses and the prophets. Let them listen to them.’ “He said, ‘No, father Abraham, but if one goes to them from the dead, they will repent.’ “He said to him, ‘If they don’t listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if one rises from the dead.’”
World English Bible
Notice who gets a name. The man in purple, feasting in luxury every day (the man everyone in town could name) goes nameless in Jesus’ story. The beggar at his gate, covered in sores, the man everyone stepped over, is called Lazarus: “God helps.” Before the story even starts, Jesus has quietly reversed the world’s accounting. Heaven knows the names earth forgets.
And notice the rich man’s sin. He never kicks Lazarus. He never orders him removed. He doesn’t do anything. That’s precisely the indictment. Lazarus lay at his gate, which means the rich man passed him going out and coming in, day after day, and managed never to see him. Only the dogs paid attention. The great sin of this parable is not cruelty; it is the trained blindness of comfort, the soul-shrinking ability to feast well while someone starves within reach.
Then both men die, and what was hidden becomes visible. Lazarus is carried by angels to Abraham’s side; the rich man is buried, and in torment. Even there, the old habits hold: he asks Abraham to send Lazarus with water, to send Lazarus to his brothers. He still sees the beggar as staff. Abraham’s answer is sorrowful and final: remember your lifetime; and besides, a great gulf is fixed. The chasm in eternity merely makes permanent the chasm the rich man maintained at his own gate.
The ending is the part Jesus aims at us. “Send someone from the dead — then they’ll repent!” No, says Abraham. They have Moses and the prophets. If the Word of God won’t move a heart, a miracle won’t either. We keep waiting for some dramatic sign before we change, but spectacle doesn’t produce repentance; listening does. Luke surely wants us to feel the irony: Someone has risen from the dead, and the question is still whether we will hear Him.
So the application is almost embarrassingly plain. You have the Word. You have a gate. And someone is lying at it. Becoming like Christ means letting Scripture train your eyes to see the person your comfort has taught you to miss.
Reflect
- Who lies at my gate (the person my routines have trained me to step past without seeing), and what is their name?
- Am I waiting for some dramatic sign or feeling before I obey what God’s Word has already plainly told me to do?
- In what ways has comfort quietly narrowed my vision, so that my feasting continues undisturbed by needs within my actual reach?
Pray
Ask God to break the trained blindness of comfort and show you the Lazarus at your own gate, by name if possible. Confess any habit of waiting for a sign when His Word has already spoken clearly. Then thank Him that the One who did rise from the dead still speaks, and commit to one concrete act of mercy today.