Today, we hear Jesus tell us a parable. Yet, this parable is but the end of a long string of instruction that Jesus gives, so we would unclench the tight-fisted grip we have on our money. He starts with the parable of the unjust money manager who used his money shrewdly to make friends before he was fired.
About that shrewd manager, Jesus said that when it comes to money, the people of this age are usually smarter than the children of light, of believers. Jesus then noted that how you handle the smaller parts of life, like your money, is an indicator for how you handle the big riches of salvation and eternal life.
Jesus warns that no one can serve two masters. You will either love money and hate God, or love God and hate money–but you can’t love and serve them both! And finally, Jesus reminds the Pharisees, who loved money, that God despises what we in our fallen nature esteem. So, if you want to be where God is, you better release your death grip on money before it drags you down into the depths of hell.
Then, Jesus comes to the parable that we heard in our Gospel reading: The rich man and Lazarus. As He does with many parables, Jesus paints this one in stark, black-and-white terms. One man was filthy rich who had a filthy beggar lying at his gate. We know the name of the poor man: Lazarus. Jesus doesn’t give us the name of the rich man.
Lazarus has to dumpster-dive to get to the rich man’s garbage. He’s looking for a bite to eat, even for a few crumbs, or some bones that still have some meat left on them. Oozing sores infect the skin of old Lazarus. After all, if he can’t afford food, he surely can’t afford medical insurance. His only doctors and companions are the dogs that stick around to lick his sores.
The rich man would look out his window, down the driveway, to the gate. There, he would stand in his satin bathrobe, holding a gin and tonic, seeing old Lazarus with the dogs. He’d think to himself: “There but by the grace of God go I. Poor sap; he must have done something evil for God to punish him like that!”
And then one day, they dropped dead–both of them. And so death becomes the vast equalizer. For who can escape death? Now, the rich man died on his Lazy Boy recliner and Lazarus died in the street. But both were equally dead. But then came the astonishing surprise, the 180-degree reversal of fortune.
Lazarus was faithful, trusting in the promises of God. Although he was physically hungry, that didn’t distract him from hungering and thirsting after God. In death, he now is fully satisfied. But the rich man rejected God, just as he rejected Lazarus. He was faith-less. Indeed, we do find a mighty reversal in death.
Lazarus is comforted; the rich man is tormented. The rich man loses everything; the poor man gains everything. The rich man becomes the beggar; the beggar becomes the rich man. Lazarus is blessed; the rich man is cursed.
The rich man is now in Hades, a sad place, a place of torment. The worst of the torment is that he can see Lazarus with Abraham, just as Lazarus used to look through the rich man’s window at dinner time.
Now, the rich man, who used to order servants around, tries to order Lazarus to fetch him a drink. After all, it’s hot in hell–damnably hot! At least, just dip the end of his little finger in some water to cool his tongue. Lazarus used to long for the crumbs; the rich man now longs for a cooling finger. But the hell of it all is that chasm, that vast gap greater than the size of the Grand Canyon, which prevents that cooling finger from ever reaching the rich man’s burning tongue.
The parable makes real what Jesus said earlier, “Use worldly wealth to make friends for yourselves, so when it fails [and when you die], they may welcome you into an eternal home” (Luke 16:9). The rich man didn’t do what the shrewd money manager did. He didn’t invest in Lazarus. Instead, he loved his money. And because he loved money, he hated God–even if he didn’t realize it. For the rich man’s true god was money. After all, why trust God when you have everything anyway?
But when money fails (and it always does), when you drop dead, and your deadbeat kids fight over your hard-earned money, then the happiness that money may bring dies with it. And then what? The rich man in his unbelief winds up an eternal beggar, worse off than Lazarus ever was.
Of course, hell burns the atheism out of all its inhabitants. And so suddenly, the rich man, maybe for the first time in his life, takes an interest in someone else. He’s even interested–who would have ever thought it–in evangelism! He has five brothers. They’re probably rich, as well. And he doesn’t want them to wind up the same way.
He cries out, “Please send Lazarus to warn them.” Now, he wants to bring Lazarus back from the dead because that will make an impression. But what an overwhelming disappointment that would be for Lazarus! Can you imagine being recalled from heaven? Who wants to die a second time?
Jesus said, “They have Moses and the Prophets; let them hear them.” They have the written and preached Word. It’s there for them in church, waiting for their ears to hear it. That’s what they need to avoid the fate of the rich man. That’s all the rich man needed.
Maybe, the rich man was there every Sabbath in the synagogue, sitting in his place of honor as one of the pillars of the community and congregation. Perhaps, he heard the Word every Sabbath because that’s where most people were.
Maybe, the former rich man was the weed-infested soil in Jesus’ parable of the four types of soil. That’s where the seed of the Word is planted. But it never takes deep root because the riches and cares of this world choke it out with busy calendars, commitments, and other concerns. Jesus said, “It’s easier for a camel to squeeze through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God” (Matthew 19:24). This man who used to be rich would agree.
But what IF someone should rise from the dead? Would that help? No, they still wouldn’t be convinced if they reject the Word: Moses and the Prophets. Resurrections are impressive. Yet, even the greatest miracle won’t produce a mustard-seed sized faith without the Word. Faith comes by hearing the Word of Christ–the word of forgiveness in Jesus’ name, the word delivered in Baptism and the Supper. That Word proclaims the sinner righteous before God because of Jesus.
So, which one would you like to be, the rich man or Lazarus? If I had asked you that question before they both died, we would have all answered, “the rich man.” But now in eternity, Lazarus no longer looks so hideous and poor.
But here’s the kicker: The parable won’t let you have it both ways. You can’t be living as the rich man in the parable but have Lazarus’ eternity. That’s not how it works. Would you rather be poor in this life and rich in the life to come, or rich in this life only to spend an eternity in hell?
“Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God” (Luke 6:20). Luther said on his death bed, “We are all beggars, this is true.” We are all Lazarus–helpless and hopeless in our poverty, always in need of spiritual healing, longing even to eat the crumbs that fall from God’s table. Lazarus is each of us. And unless we see ourselves in him, we cannot be saved. We won’t even want to be saved.
Jesus comes to us in our poverty. “Although he was rich, for your sake he became poor, so you, through his poverty, might become rich” (2 Corinthians 8:9). Jesus came to us in the poverty of our sin and death. He came to us, condemned under the Law to an eternity of misery. He came to us when we couldn’t help ourselves.
He then took on our weak, diseased, and fallen humanity. He lifted us up from the side of the road and brought us to His house. He washed our wounds with His baptism and gave us a seat at His table, not as pathetic beggars, but as beloved friends. He welcomes us, not as strangers, but as someone in the family. And so we eat, not the crumbs that fall from the table, but feast on the salvation that Jesus has won for us.
The rich man’s brothers had Moses and the Prophets. Yet, you have more–the prophetic Word made all the more sure. For you not only have Moses and the Prophets, but you also have the apostles and evangelists.
Jesus took into Himself all the sin of the world–even your sin. You know how He became the least, the loser for you and me, losing His life to give us His. He was rich with the riches of heaven, richer than anyone. Yet for us, Jesus became poor like Lazarus: wretched, miserable, and crucified–all to save you. Indeed, you are as rich as Lazarus. Amen.
