Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost
(C)
September 28, 2025
Text:
Luke 16:19-31
First, what our Holy Gospel is
not. It is not a condemnation of wealth,
or the wealthy. It is not a reading to
be marshalled in some sort of class warfare.
Wealth is a good gift of God when stewarded according to His will. You are all relatively wealthy compared to
most people in the world, and certainly most in human history. You actually live in greater comfort than the
rich man in our text. Don’t feel guilty
about that. Thank God for it. Recognize that it all comes from Him, and
really, belongs to Him. Then, use it
responsibly, as entrusted to you by God, to provide for yourself and for your
family, and for the benefit of your neighbor.
Support the preaching of the Gospel.
Give to those in need. Especially
the poor, the sick, and those hungering for crumbs from your table. Like Lazarus.
Love them, and give to them.
Also, this Gospel is not holding
forth poverty as some sort of virtue that gains you favor with God. Lazarus is not praised for his poverty. He doesn’t go to heaven because he is
poor. He goes to heaven because he
trusts in God. He is saved by faith
alone. The rich man goes to hell, not
because he is rich. He goes to hell
because he trusts in his riches. He is
devoted to them. And so, even if he is a
good Jew, outwardly (probably one of the Pharisees, who were lovers of money),
in his heart, he is a pagan unbeliever.
He worships an idol: Mammon.
Beware, dear Christian. Beware. For Mammon is an idol common among us.
We should also note that this Gospel
puts to rest, once and for all, the false and damnable teaching of the
prosperity gospel, the idea that, if you are righteous before God, believe
enough, and do enough good works, God will reward you with riches and good
health. But if you are not righteous
before God, do not believe enough (or rightly), and do not do enough good
works, God will curse you with poverty and sickness. That is actually a theology the Pharisees can
get behind. It is the theology of Job’s
three friends, and it is the false doctrine espoused by far too many American
Evangelicals. If anything, the point of
our Gospel this day is precisely the opposite.
The well-dressed, well-fed rich man, living in the lap of luxury, is, in
fact, living an accursed life. Because
he doesn’t have Christ. The naked,
starving, poor man, homeless, and covered in sores, tasty to the tongues of
mongrels, is, in fact, divinely blessed.
Because he does have Christ.
Because, in the Kingdom of God, things are not as they appear. What is hidden to the naked eye here and now,
revealed only to faith enlightened by Holy Scripture, will be manifest and
visible there and then, beyond the veil of this earthly life.
The rich man received his good
things in his earthly life, and they consumed him. Now, he is in anguish in hell. Likewise, Lazarus suffered bad things in his
earthly life, but now he is comforted at Abraham’s side. Incidentally, you may remember an older
translation wherein heaven is called “Abraham’s bosom.” The image is one of a father’s affection for
a beloved son, the son reclining against his father at a feast, much like the
beloved disciple, the Apostle John, reclining against Jesus at the Lord’s Supper. At least two things should be of comfort to
you in that image: First of all, by faith in Christ, you are a child of
Abraham. That is what Paul preaches to
the Galatians: “Know then that it is those of faith who are the sons of
Abraham” (Gal. 3:7; ESV). So, that
space is reserved for you, too… by Father Abraham’s side, right next to his
heart. And second, and even more
profound, you are the disciple Jesus loves. So, your place… in heaven, certainly, but also
here and now… is to be reclined upon the Lord’s breast, right next to His
beating heart, at His Holy Supper.
In any case, we learn something of heaven
and hell, of what it is to be behind the veil, in this Gospel, though the
teaching is not comprehensive. As we
look closely at the text, we learn that the angels escort us to heaven when we
die. But the journey to hell is a lonely
one (never mind the company of demons, who undoubtedly pounce at the moment of
death). Hell is a torment, whereas
heaven is a place of comfort and consolation and love. Notice that the one who begged for crumbs on
earth is well-satisfied now in heaven, whereas he who was full on earth now
begs for just a drop of water from a fingertip in hell. And it will not, and cannot be granted. There is not even that miniscule comfort. Notice that the rich man does not beg to be
let out of hell, and into heaven. There
is something to C. S. Lewis’ idea that the door to hell is locked from the
inside; that is, that the damned would rather spend eternity in hell than have
to suffer our God’s loving presence. But
he does beg that Lazarus be sent to hell to serve him. Even in death, the rich man never gets over
his feeling of entitlement, especially over against Lazarus, whose whole reason
for existence, apparently, is to serve him.
Notice that the rich man can see Lazarus and Abraham in heaven. Could that be a part of what it is to be in
hell? Maybe. But notice that Lazarus is not troubled by
hell. Perhaps he can’t see it, though
apparently Abrham can. We are up against
a mystery, that is for certain. In any
case, we should be troubled now by hell, for our own sake, and for the
sake of our neighbor. But we will not be
then. And even so, don’t fail to notice
that chasm between the two fateful destinations. You cannot pass from one to the other, even
if you wanted to. At the very least,
this indicates the finality of the judgment at death. Those in heaven cannot fall and be damned. Thank God.
Those in hell have no opportunity to repent and be saved. Let us take heed.
And then, there is this detail,
artfully woven, but so easy to miss, in the story. Lazarus has a name. It is a name written in heaven, and
immortalized on earth. We all know his
name, and we all love his story. The
rich man’s name is never mentioned.
Tradition names him Dives, but that is just a transliteration of
the Latin (not even the original Greek) for “rich man,” so, not actually his
name. What's the point? The rich man made a name for himself on
earth, but that name is forgotten and lost to posterity. The no-name beggar, Lazarus, however, has a
name before God and all the world. There
is both a warning and a comfort for us in this.
If you live for penultimate things (or not even penultimate things, but
just earthly things), no matter the monuments you build for yourself, or the
legacy you leave, in the end, all you are is dust in the wind. You will be forgotten. But if you live for God, and in God, and by
the things of God… no matter who knows your name now, God knows it. And your name is written in heaven in the
blood-red ink of God’s Lamb. And your
legacy is that of Lazarus, a legacy that preaches the faithfulness of God and
salvation in Christ for generations to come.
Well, if Lazarus can give the rich
man no relief in hell, the least he can do, the rich man thinks, is return from
the dead to go and warn his five brothers… also Pharisees, also lovers of
money. What is Father Abraham’s
answer? They have Moses and the
prophets. They have the Holy
Scriptures. Let them listen to
them. If they will not listen to them,
neither shall they be convinced if someone should rise from the dead. The irony is delicious, isn’t it?
Now, on the face of it, Father
Abraham’s answer appears to be, “No.”
But that isn’t actually what he says.
He says that, even if it were to happen, as the rich man
requested, it wouldn’t make any difference to those who will not believe the
Scriptures. But the plain fact is, even
before we get to the real punchline of the whole thing, we know from another
Gospel, the Gospel of John (Chapter 11), that there was a man named
Lazarus, who actually did die, and who did, in fact, at the
command of the Lord Jesus Christ, rise from the dead. Is this the same Lazarus? I don’t know.
There is no way to know (although we should note that the Lord never
calls the story in our text a “parable,” though we often treat it that way…
this may be an account of actual events).
But what was the reaction of the Pharisees (the five brothers) to
Lazarus’ resurrection? Did they fall on
their knees in repentance and believe in Jesus?
No. Instead, what did they say? “Let’s kill Lazarus! And let’s kill Jesus! Because we still don’t believe in Jesus even
if He can raise the dead, and we can’t let anyone else believe in Jesus,
either!” Believe it or not, miracles
don’t convert anyone apart from the Word of God, apart from the
Scriptures. They are signs that confirm
the preaching, and they are signs that confirm the faith of those who already
believe on account of the preaching. But
they do not convert, in and of themselves.
And that explains the real punchline
of the whole thing. Jesus Christ is
risen from the dead! We killed Him,
and after three days, He rose. But if
you don’t believe Moses and the prophets, neither will you believe in the wake
of this earthshattering, grave-splitting turn of events. Of course, we are given even more than
Moses and the prophets. The Old
Testament writers gave us shadows and patterns.
We have Apostles and Evangelists who give us their fulfillment. And here is the point: Believe them! Hear, mark, learn, and inwardly digest their
Words, because their Words are the very Words of God. And God’s Words impart the death and life of
God’s own Son to all who hear and believe.
These Words are the way to go where Lazarus has gone: Heaven. Resurrection.
Eternal life in Christ.
This story is recorded… and a man
named Lazarus, indeed, came back from the dead… as a warning and witness to the
five brothers, and to you and me. Hear
the Word. Heed the Word. Believe the Word. And so cling to Christ, who died for your
sins, and who is risen from the dead. In
comparison with that, all the riches in the world aren’t worth… well, I’m
tempted to say… a darn. They can’t buy
you life. But Jesus has bought you
life. No matter your circumstances here
and now. Even if you live in utter
poverty and misery (and you don’t, so give thanks to God, and don’t exaggerate
your plight). Good things are
coming. Your comfort is coming. This life is brief, and full of trouble. But life in Christ is eternal. Live for that. Love in that.
Share what you have, because of that.
Be generous. Live in hope, and in
joy. Your name is written in
heaven. And you have a place, there, in
Father Abraham’s bosom. And you have a
place, here, reclining against your Lord’s riven side. Beloved, behold… you are rich beyond
imagination. In the Name of the Father,
and of the Son X,
and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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