Jesus said, “There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. In Hades, where he was being tormented, he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. He called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in agony in these flames.’ But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things and Lazarus in like manner evil things, but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.’ He said, ‘Then I beg you, father, to send him to my father’s house— for I have five brothers—that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.’ Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.’ He said, ‘No, father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’ He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’ ”
Luke 16:19-31
In this season of the church’s life, we are encountering Jesus in his prophetic role, which, like all the prophets, can disturb us. If so, good. While we might be comfortable with him talking about him flipping a table in a temple every now and then, we need such stories where he, like all the prophets, tells us in vivid images, “No, I’m serious.”
This story of Lazarus and the rich man is a serious warning. It’s told as a story, not a parable; not an allegory, but a revelation of what the prophets tried over and over to tell God’s people. Over and over, the message included a challenge not only to “put your money where your spiritual mouth is,” but actually, “put your money where the hungry’s mouths are.”
If the story of Lazarus and the rich man sounds familiar, it might be because it was partially the inspiration for Charles Dickens' work, A Christmas Carol. As we know in that story, the incredibly miserly Scrooge is given a stark reminder of what he did and didn’t do to help the less fortunate in his living days. He did not listen until he was finally spooked into repentance.
Jesus is also hoping his followers can be spooked into repentance, using vivid details to make sure we get it. The rich man wasn’t just clothed, but dressed in fine purple linen; he didn’t just eat, he treated every meal as an extravagant celebration. He did so while walking past his gate every day a deathly, nakedly sick man, who longed to only eat the leftover scraps. Jesus honors this man by telling us his name, Lazarus, and subtly digs at the rich man by leaving him anonymous, unknown, nobody special. Such rich men are a dime a dozen anyway. There is no indication Lazarus ever actually ate from his table, but he only longed to. Thanks to this rich man, Lazarus had greater communion with dogs. That is, until the great equalizer came to both of them: death.
We all know these are quite divided times, but nothing unites all people like our shared destination in death. If there was a second place for something that most humans have in common, it is probably a sinful relationship with money. Like death, money is the great spiritual equalizer, where the rubber meets the road, where so many religions and spiritualities and gurus and preachers claim an enlightenment that rings empty by ignoring the poor. They don’t have to actively mistreat the poor, but neither does the rich man; he simply ignores them.
Well, our nameless scion didn’t totally ignore the poor. Upon his death, he reveals that he apparently knew Lazarus’ name. But what does he say? In extraordinary entitlement, he cries out, “Help, send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in agony.” Even in death, he still thinks it is a law of the universe that Lazarus should be serving him. To which Abraham says in so many words…nah. Sorry. “Just like you maintained a great chasm between you and those like Lazarus in your life, I’m afraid that chasm is fixed.”
In response, the rich man wants again to enlist Lazarus as his servant, asking Abraham to use Lazarus to warn his brothers. No one ever accused the elite of lacking gumption. You wonder if perhaps Lazarus, while he was alive, should have served as a warning enough. So Abraham tells him, “They have Moses. They have the prophets. They’re being warned.” Then, foreshadowing what would happen, “If they ignore Moses and the prophets, they won’t even be convinced if someone rises from the dead.”
One reason I trust Jesus as Lord is that he consistently challenges us on one of the most ultimate tests of our spirituality, what we might call the Lazarus Test: are you helping the poor or ignoring them? Does a given church, spiritual movement, or otherwise focus on enriching itself, or on uplifting the poor? Which side of the chasm are you on?
I’ve been in many different spiritualities, religions, and even Christianities, left, right, every which way. There are better and worse versions of all of them. A common feature of almost all the bad ones is problems with the spirituality of money. And a common feature of almost all the good ones is a generosity with money towards others, with a judicious, discerning, and limited use for themselves.
This does not mean we should be undiscerning, thoughtless, or unwise with our stewardship of what God has given us for others. But we should also be careful not to equivocate where Jesus and the prophets do not. The rich man was not told, “Well, you might have ignored Lazarus, but you had the right idea about economic policy,” or, “Thank goodness you didn’t accidentally give something to Lazarus that he might have wasted.”
But if we struggle with this, we are not alone. Since the early Church, Christians have struggled with the question, “What exactly do we do about the risen Jesus?” I can only imagine Luke records this story of Lazarus because sometimes, what people did about the risen Lord was nothing. The Gospels and the epistles indicate that at least some of the first Christians did not take his teachings and challenges to generosity seriously. They needed a wake-up call.
Take this passage from 1 Timothy 6, a paired lectionary reading for today:
Of course, there is great gain in godliness combined with contentment, for we brought nothing into the world, so that we can take nothing out of it, but if we have food and clothing, we will be content with these. But those who want to be rich fall into temptation and are trapped by many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, and in their eagerness to be rich some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pains.
But as for you, man of God, shun all this; pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith; take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and for which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses. … As for those who in the present age are rich, command them not to be haughty or to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches but rather on God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share, thus storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of the life that really is life.
1 Timothy 6:6-12, 17-19
Elsewhere in 1 Timothy and other epistles, we learn that some believers are wearing extravagant clothes,1 sometimes eating nicer food than their fellow Christians as part of the Eucharist,2 and they are not sharing as they ought. If we must ignore the prophets like the rich man and his brothers, why don’t we listen to Jesus, the last true fulfillment of the prophets?
Let’s not pretend it’s always easy. How do we act from our sinfulness to the high ideal Christ calls us toward? How do we do this when money, our sin, and the hopelessness of ever fixing all of poverty ourselves make it all feel too big for us?
But it’s not too big for us. I especially love the epistles for how they can help us navigate the massive chasm between ourselves and Christ by giving us manageable advice, seeing the practical ways we can respond to the risen Lord, and giving us a “what now.” I think most of us probably already know the answer: extravagant generosity. As Paul would tell the Corinthians, this is not about creating relief for others and hardship for you, but “equality between your present abundance and their need.”3 But we did not come into this world with money, and we will not take it with us, so let us be content with food and clothing and our needs being met,4 and participate in sharing the excess grace given. What’s your other choice…love money? Money? That thing that’s the root of all kinds of evil?
No, men and women of God. “Shun all this: pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, gentleness…do good, to be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share, thus storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of the life that really is life.”5
We take hold of the life that is really life by taking Jesus seriously. If you have a problem with the prophets or Father Abraham, okay, but take Jesus seriously. He doesn’t just say what God will do, but he sacrifices himself, putting his body on the line for those he’s calling out, defeating our uniting enemy of death, offering us a chance to return to God by uplifting those who need it.
And to be more optimistic, if we humans are all unified by our sins around money, I must say I’ve also seen how the Holy Spirit can unify us all across all kinds of political and social divisions into the shared virtue of generosity. While I’ve seen churches of all kinds fail the Lazarus Test, I’ve seen groups of all kinds and politics do great work. I’ve even seen those churches collaborate despite their division, especially when the crisis is great. I am grateful for all our church here in Craftsbury has done and that a habit of generosity is a throughline here. All I can do is encourage us to keep going in not taking grace for granted. After all, there’s no better place where you can be absolutely rich with little than Vermont. The beauty that God has gifted us makes us all wealthy.
The good news is not that we should put ourselves under hardship, but that those who have been on the wrong side of evil from the massive greed of our world are not going to be left by the gate when Jesus passes by. The gospel proclaims who is truly Lord and who is not, and it is not the rulers of this world with their financial instruments who are used to the poor serving them. Unlike Scrooge, we don’t need any Christmas ghosts to help those in need. We have Jesus, with us now in the Holy Spirit, who is doing everything he can to reach across the chasm. And he is always giving us another chance at the life that is really life. Amen.
1 Timothy 2:9
1 Corinthians 11:17–34
2 Cor 8:13-14
1 Timothy 6:8
1 Timothy 6:11-12, 17-18