Keys to the Kingdom
Luke 16:19-31
This morning I want to show you some caricatures of famous people. These are comically distorted drawings, meant to poke fun at or satirize someone. Usually someone’s most prominent feature will be exaggerated. As we show you a series of these on the screen, feel free to call out their names if you know them.
There’s humor in these portraits. They’re meant to provoke us, so we smile or chuckle when we recognize a person despite their over-emphasized features. I’ve shown you these caricatures because, hearing today’s parable, Jesus’ first-century audience would have easily imagined the ridiculousness of the rich man. The first way he flaunted his wealth was to dress extravagantly every single day. His regal, purple outer garment mimicked what high priests would wear in the inner sanctuary of God’s temple, on the rarest of occasions. His white linen garment was another symbol of self-indulgence - it would have been sewn to show off how he was at the height of modern fashion. If he’d had any paparazzi around him back then, every shot would have made it on the front page.
A second distorted aspect of his lifestyle was the daily feasts he made his servants prepare. He didn’t wait until there was a major festival held in the region, or a sacred holy day; his enormous banqueting table would display the richest of foods and the rarest of delicacies every single day. Another attention-grabbing behavior was that the rich man always ate alone; no one else saw, tasted, or even smelled his tantalizing mounds of food. It seems like his large ego was all the company he wanted.
Jesus exposed the rich man’s flaws in a satirical way; his audience would have very much appreciated his witty description. A man known for conspicuous consumption had no one there to witness it. A gentleman dressed to impress stays hidden inside the walls of his mansion. In every generation there are people like this; they’re obscenely rich and self-indulgent. Jesus’ listeners would have seen the rich man here as, “Not one of us!”
Then we’re introduced to Lazarus, whose name means “God helps”. That’s pretty ironic; Jesus’ audience would have picked up on that! Some friend or family member probably placed him just outside the gates of the rich’s man luxurious estate. Lazarus was so famished he hoped for mere crumbs to eat. Some dogs by his side are his only company - they may have been his pets, as was common for Jews in that day. The dogs aided Lazarus when no one else did, licking the open sores on his body; their saliva was a natural healing agent. We’re meant to feel sympathy for him but not closely identify with him, concluding he’s, “Not one of us!”
Once these main characters were introduced, there would’ve been an undercurrent of nervous interest as Jesus’ audience listened for what would happen next in the parable. Every Jew there knew the holy commands of God: “Open your hand to the poor and needy in your land,” it says in Deut. 15:11. Many other Scriptures say the same. The rich man should have been “God’s help” – a Lazarus for poor Lazarus. He should have paid for a doctor to treat his diseased skin, brought him inside so he was dry and warm, fed him healthy food, clothed him well and given him a comfortable bed.
The story then takes an abrupt turn - both men die and are in the afterlife. Lazarus is given all he lacked on earth: food and comfort, shelter, and wholeness. And Abraham, a father figure for all Jews, is holding him; his presence implies godly protection and provision.
Did you notice how Lazarus was silent on earth, and also in heaven? Likewise, the rich man was demanding and self-centered while he was alive, and stayed that way. His tongue, that had savored sumptuous foods, now craved a single drop of cool water. He arrogantly asked Father Abraham to send Lazarus on that errand, to ease his suffering! The patriarch said: “Child (a fatherly term), do you remember that you received good in your life, and Lazarus bad? Now he’s comforted and you’re in pain. This is a great chasm no one can cross over.”
Once more there’s a sudden turn. The rich man now wants Lazarus sent on another errand by Father Abraham. His five brothers are still alive; if Lazarus who is dead appeared before them alive, they might repent and one day be in heaven. Father Abraham had the ability to see what the blinded rich man could not: his brothers had full access to Scriptures from a young age, but just chose not to care about it. God had already given them all they needed; it was up to them to act on it.
But sadder still was the blindness of the rich man: to the very end he never saw himself as God did, and others did as well. He was, beneath his finery and finances, a sinner, like the rest of us. In his case he was woefully selfish and not interested in God. His family mattered somewhat, but the anonymous poor man by his front door – not at all.
Then I saw it, something I’d missed every time I read this parable. The rich man knew the poor man’s name! He called him Lazarus - not directly, mind you, but he spoke his name when he talked with Father Abraham. That felt shocking to me, and offensive. It was rotten that he neglected his physical needs, but to eat a meal and know the name of someone nearby, weakened by hunger… how callous is that?
This parable raises many questions. It can provoke us to think about wealth, privilege, and power. It may make us wrangle with why there’s terrible poverty, inequality, and suffering. God’s word is rich with layers of fresh and practical truths. Last week I asked you to close your eyes and listen with openness to questions this parable can raise that relate to how we live our lives.
This morning I want to share something that God’s shown to me; it’s captured my attention - it’s provoking truth I know will be valuable for me and my ministry. It’s about relationships. In today’s parable different kinds of relationships are described or implied. I think a kind friend or family member “placed” Lazarus near the rich man’s home. Their intention was good - they hoped his lot in life would improve. Father Abraham seems to care about both men in the afterlife: he’s embracing Lazarus and calling the rich man his child; both point to fatherly concern. As for Lazarus, he never speaks. We don’t hear him curse the rich man or pray to God with a humble heart, so he remains a mystery. But the rich man… he’s the real focus of the parable. All attention is on him, and we see him disappoint one person after another.
His servants probably wished they worked for a better Master than him. Lazarus was neglected by him, in every way. Even his brothers were likely distanced from him, never getting invited to join him at his daily feasts! The more I thought about how the rich man interacted with and treated others, the closer I felt to an “aha” moment. I tried one adjective after another, then the word came to me. It fit perfectly but it bothered me, a lot.
The rich man was not loving in his relationships, and we can’t say he hated people. I don’t sense he was middle of the road either. The chilling thought that came to me was that he was indifferent, having no concern for other human beings. Can you imagine a parent, who should be nurturing, treating their child with complete indifference? There would be no emotion in them, no concern for their needs or wants. What if teachers were indifferent to students sitting in their classes? They would see them, but not care about them as a person or about their success in the coursework.
Indifference toward others is a dangerous thing. It means a person wouldn’t call 911 if they witnessed trouble. They’d never choose to help others at any time. Nor would they care about their community or neighborhood. Indifference means never sharing one’s time or resources with others. And it means the poor will be neglected, and the sick.
If there were a few indifferent people in a community, a family, a school, a hospital, or a church, it would be disappointing. Other people might do more to make up the difference. But what if more and more people became indifferent? Are more and more people becoming indifferent? Doesn’t that lead inevitably to more suffering in our world, much of it preventable? What happens when government leaders are indifferent? When those in high office govern a nation and have no concern for their citizens’ welfare, what impact does that bring? Will they care whether others have clean water, adequate food, access to medicine, or an education? Can you see the broad and dangerous implications when leaders are indifferent?
Today’s parable has made me see that truth and reality - it’s illumined how there are far-reaching, painful consequences when people are indifferent. There is Good News, though! The answer is Jesus. He’s shown us what it looks like to be fully alive and poised to act. He was alert to people and possibilities each day. I’m convinced that you and I have, and will have, many of the same opportunities as well. Some may be right at our doorstep, so to speak. I’m ready to counter the harm caused by indifference, with Jesus as my helper. I hope you feel the same way! Amen.
There’s humor in these portraits. They’re meant to provoke us, so we smile or chuckle when we recognize a person despite their over-emphasized features. I’ve shown you these caricatures because, hearing today’s parable, Jesus’ first-century audience would have easily imagined the ridiculousness of the rich man. The first way he flaunted his wealth was to dress extravagantly every single day. His regal, purple outer garment mimicked what high priests would wear in the inner sanctuary of God’s temple, on the rarest of occasions. His white linen garment was another symbol of self-indulgence - it would have been sewn to show off how he was at the height of modern fashion. If he’d had any paparazzi around him back then, every shot would have made it on the front page.
A second distorted aspect of his lifestyle was the daily feasts he made his servants prepare. He didn’t wait until there was a major festival held in the region, or a sacred holy day; his enormous banqueting table would display the richest of foods and the rarest of delicacies every single day. Another attention-grabbing behavior was that the rich man always ate alone; no one else saw, tasted, or even smelled his tantalizing mounds of food. It seems like his large ego was all the company he wanted.
Jesus exposed the rich man’s flaws in a satirical way; his audience would have very much appreciated his witty description. A man known for conspicuous consumption had no one there to witness it. A gentleman dressed to impress stays hidden inside the walls of his mansion. In every generation there are people like this; they’re obscenely rich and self-indulgent. Jesus’ listeners would have seen the rich man here as, “Not one of us!”
Then we’re introduced to Lazarus, whose name means “God helps”. That’s pretty ironic; Jesus’ audience would have picked up on that! Some friend or family member probably placed him just outside the gates of the rich’s man luxurious estate. Lazarus was so famished he hoped for mere crumbs to eat. Some dogs by his side are his only company - they may have been his pets, as was common for Jews in that day. The dogs aided Lazarus when no one else did, licking the open sores on his body; their saliva was a natural healing agent. We’re meant to feel sympathy for him but not closely identify with him, concluding he’s, “Not one of us!”
Once these main characters were introduced, there would’ve been an undercurrent of nervous interest as Jesus’ audience listened for what would happen next in the parable. Every Jew there knew the holy commands of God: “Open your hand to the poor and needy in your land,” it says in Deut. 15:11. Many other Scriptures say the same. The rich man should have been “God’s help” – a Lazarus for poor Lazarus. He should have paid for a doctor to treat his diseased skin, brought him inside so he was dry and warm, fed him healthy food, clothed him well and given him a comfortable bed.
The story then takes an abrupt turn - both men die and are in the afterlife. Lazarus is given all he lacked on earth: food and comfort, shelter, and wholeness. And Abraham, a father figure for all Jews, is holding him; his presence implies godly protection and provision.
Did you notice how Lazarus was silent on earth, and also in heaven? Likewise, the rich man was demanding and self-centered while he was alive, and stayed that way. His tongue, that had savored sumptuous foods, now craved a single drop of cool water. He arrogantly asked Father Abraham to send Lazarus on that errand, to ease his suffering! The patriarch said: “Child (a fatherly term), do you remember that you received good in your life, and Lazarus bad? Now he’s comforted and you’re in pain. This is a great chasm no one can cross over.”
Once more there’s a sudden turn. The rich man now wants Lazarus sent on another errand by Father Abraham. His five brothers are still alive; if Lazarus who is dead appeared before them alive, they might repent and one day be in heaven. Father Abraham had the ability to see what the blinded rich man could not: his brothers had full access to Scriptures from a young age, but just chose not to care about it. God had already given them all they needed; it was up to them to act on it.
But sadder still was the blindness of the rich man: to the very end he never saw himself as God did, and others did as well. He was, beneath his finery and finances, a sinner, like the rest of us. In his case he was woefully selfish and not interested in God. His family mattered somewhat, but the anonymous poor man by his front door – not at all.
Then I saw it, something I’d missed every time I read this parable. The rich man knew the poor man’s name! He called him Lazarus - not directly, mind you, but he spoke his name when he talked with Father Abraham. That felt shocking to me, and offensive. It was rotten that he neglected his physical needs, but to eat a meal and know the name of someone nearby, weakened by hunger… how callous is that?
This parable raises many questions. It can provoke us to think about wealth, privilege, and power. It may make us wrangle with why there’s terrible poverty, inequality, and suffering. God’s word is rich with layers of fresh and practical truths. Last week I asked you to close your eyes and listen with openness to questions this parable can raise that relate to how we live our lives.
This morning I want to share something that God’s shown to me; it’s captured my attention - it’s provoking truth I know will be valuable for me and my ministry. It’s about relationships. In today’s parable different kinds of relationships are described or implied. I think a kind friend or family member “placed” Lazarus near the rich man’s home. Their intention was good - they hoped his lot in life would improve. Father Abraham seems to care about both men in the afterlife: he’s embracing Lazarus and calling the rich man his child; both point to fatherly concern. As for Lazarus, he never speaks. We don’t hear him curse the rich man or pray to God with a humble heart, so he remains a mystery. But the rich man… he’s the real focus of the parable. All attention is on him, and we see him disappoint one person after another.
His servants probably wished they worked for a better Master than him. Lazarus was neglected by him, in every way. Even his brothers were likely distanced from him, never getting invited to join him at his daily feasts! The more I thought about how the rich man interacted with and treated others, the closer I felt to an “aha” moment. I tried one adjective after another, then the word came to me. It fit perfectly but it bothered me, a lot.
The rich man was not loving in his relationships, and we can’t say he hated people. I don’t sense he was middle of the road either. The chilling thought that came to me was that he was indifferent, having no concern for other human beings. Can you imagine a parent, who should be nurturing, treating their child with complete indifference? There would be no emotion in them, no concern for their needs or wants. What if teachers were indifferent to students sitting in their classes? They would see them, but not care about them as a person or about their success in the coursework.
Indifference toward others is a dangerous thing. It means a person wouldn’t call 911 if they witnessed trouble. They’d never choose to help others at any time. Nor would they care about their community or neighborhood. Indifference means never sharing one’s time or resources with others. And it means the poor will be neglected, and the sick.
If there were a few indifferent people in a community, a family, a school, a hospital, or a church, it would be disappointing. Other people might do more to make up the difference. But what if more and more people became indifferent? Are more and more people becoming indifferent? Doesn’t that lead inevitably to more suffering in our world, much of it preventable? What happens when government leaders are indifferent? When those in high office govern a nation and have no concern for their citizens’ welfare, what impact does that bring? Will they care whether others have clean water, adequate food, access to medicine, or an education? Can you see the broad and dangerous implications when leaders are indifferent?
Today’s parable has made me see that truth and reality - it’s illumined how there are far-reaching, painful consequences when people are indifferent. There is Good News, though! The answer is Jesus. He’s shown us what it looks like to be fully alive and poised to act. He was alert to people and possibilities each day. I’m convinced that you and I have, and will have, many of the same opportunities as well. Some may be right at our doorstep, so to speak. I’m ready to counter the harm caused by indifference, with Jesus as my helper. I hope you feel the same way! Amen.