The Turning of Tables—Lectionary Reflection for Pentecost 16C/Proper 21 (Luke 16)



Luke 16:19-31 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

19 “There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. 20 And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, 21 who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. 22 The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. 23 In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. 24 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.’25 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. 26 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.’ 27 He said, ‘Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father’s house— 28 for I have five brothers—that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.’ 29 Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.’ 30 He said, ‘No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.’ 31 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.’”

 

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               The parable of “Lazarus and the Rich Man” might not be as well known as the Prodigal or the Good Samaritan parables, but it’s a memorable one. Sometimes it is used as evidence of the afterlife, though that probably misses the point of the parable. It is a reversal of fortunes, with the two primary characters switching places in the afterlife. In this parable, we have a rich man who remains unnamed, who in life lived in the lap of luxury. We also have Lazarus, an impoverished and sick man, who sits at the rich man’s gate hoping to receive a few scraps from the rich man’s table. In life, the rich man couldn’t be bothered by the plight of his neighbor, but then in the afterlife, with this reversal taking place, he asks that Lazarus relieve his suffering, something he was unwilling to do in life.

                 As we unpack the parable, we should place it in context. This parable follows after the parable of the dishonest servant and Jesus’ call to live faithful lives, with the warning that one cannot serve both God and mammon (Lk. 16:1-13). Between that word of warning and our passage, which in many ways continues the earlier conversation, Luke has Jesus respond to the Pharisees, whom Luke speaks of as lovers of money (as always, we must be careful about how we portray the Pharisees. Luke has a distaste for them even though theologically Jesus is close to them). In this response, Jesus makes it clear that not a stroke of the law will be set aside, a word of warning that includes another word about divorce and adultery (Lk. 16:14-18). The creators of the lectionary thankfully omit these verses from our reading. These passages set the stage for another word about money and its dangers. One can enjoy the riches of this life and suffer judgment in the next.

In this parable, we have a rich man who enjoys a life of luxury. He doesn’t have a care in the world. In fact, he loves banquets, at which he gets to eat to his heart’s content. It’s the good life!  We also have this impoverished man sitting at his gate. Unlike the rich man, he has a name—Lazarus. He’s hungry and covered with sores. His life, if you can call it that, is the complete opposite of the rich man’s. While the rich man indulges himself, Lazarus simply hopes a few scraps of food from the man’s table will reach him. At least those scraps would sate his hunger for a moment or two. It’s at death that we see a  reversal of fortunes. Both of these figures end up in Hades (the underworld), but they have very different post-mortem lives. Lazarus lands in what appears to be Paradise where he enjoys the company of Father Abraham. As for the rich man, he ends up on the other side of the tracks—or in this case a chasm. While Lazarus enjoys the comforting presence of Abraham, the rich man (tradition calls him Dives—Latin for rich man—for the rest of this reflection) experiences torment that entails intense and constant fire. So, you can see where the idea of the fires of hell gets its biblical support.  Lazarus may have experienced suffering in this life, but Dives gets to experience it in the next. Apparently, it’s unrelenting. So, the tables have been turned on Dives.

                In a story like this, it’s difficult not to choose sides. Lazarus had a hard life in this world, so he deserves relief. Besides, didn’t Jesus promise to bring “good news for the poor” (Lk 4:18)? Since many of Jesus’ followers were among the impoverished masses, they would have heard the good news in this message, even as the wealthy hearers would hear bad news. So, we turn to Dives, who seems to have been, in life, a self-centered man who had no regard for Lazarus’ plight. So, he deserves his fate.  If you’re like me, you’re comfortable middle class, but not part of the one percent.  We middle-class folk tend to derive a certain satisfaction when the rich fall, even as we enjoy the opportunity to pity the poor. If you’re middle class, you can sit in between and feel as if the story isn’t about you, but is that true?

                Since this parable follows after the parable of the dishonest steward (Luke 16:1-13), this parable like the prior one, speaks to some degree about the role of money and wealth and how it should be handled. In the earlier passage, Jesus warns against falling prey to the idol of wealth. You can’t serve God and mammon both. The reading from 1 Timothy would appear to reinforce that message, as the author of that Pastoral Letter tells Timothy that the “love of money is a root of all kinds of evil” (1 Tim. 6:10). If you’re going to follow Jesus, you’ll have to choose, and it’s not an easy choice. But as we see here the pursuit of money lands Dives on the wrong side of Hades. But it’s not the wealth itself that is at issue here, it’s the way he treated his impoverished neighbor. Although he had the means to help Lazarus in life, he simply ignored him. The needs of the poor were irrelevant to him.

                What is interesting about this parable isn’t just the reversal of fortunes in the afterlife, but that Jesus also treats the characters differently. Did you notice that Luke gives the impoverished and suffering man shares the same name as the man Jesus raises from the dead in John 11? While John’s Lazarus doesn’t appear to be poor, there are interesting connections to think about, though I won’t explore them here.

In Luke’s parable, this particular Lazarus is lying beside Father Abraham, enjoying Abraham’s protective care. He receives in death what he never received in life. As for why Abraham appears in the story at this point; that’s because in first-century Judaism he was considered the patron saint of hospitality. Abraham offers Lazarus the hospitality that Dives should have offered him in life. The rich man, who in life dressed in purple (suggesting he might be royalty) and enjoyed extravagant banquets, is very aware of his current situation. But does he understand why he suffers? Even as he recognizes his unpleasant situation, he also notices Lazarus, whom he both recognizes and calls by name. Being in torment, he makes a request of Father Abraham. Perhaps he could send Lazarus over to dip his finger in some water and with it quench Dives’ thirst. Though their situations have reversed, he still feels a sense of superiority over Lazarus. Nevertheless, Abraham refuses his request. Things are what they are. Besides, as Amy Jill Levine points out: “His appeal to Abraham will not yield its desired results, because he has not fulfilled his role in Abraham’s family; he has failed to display hospitality on earth, and he has failed, even in the pain of torture, to understand his sin.” As she continues: “Knowledge without action will count for nothing. He refused to recognize on earth that Lazarus too was a child of Abraham and so should have been treated as a welcome member of the family. He had the resources; he had the opportunity; he had the commandments of Torah. He did nothing, and he still does nothing” [Short Stories by Jesus, Kindle p. 288]. Even in his suffering he still sees himself as superior to another child of Abraham. Besides, the chasm separating the two is too wide to cross. As they say, Dives had made his bed and now he had to sleep in it.

Recognizing that he wouldn’t get relief for himself, he Dives asks Abraham if Lazarus could run an errand for him and warn his family of their likely fate. In other words, he wondered if Lazarus could take on the role of Jacob Marley, though Marley was a ghost carrying the chains he wove in life, while Lazarus was simply poor. Nevertheless, the errand is similar. Dives hoped that if Lazarus could go warn them of their likely fate, they might be spared. Abraham again refuses this request. He tells Dives that if they didn’t listen to Moses and the prophets (the Scriptures), then why would they listen to someone rising from the dead? Besides, Dives still doesn’t seem to get it. If Lazarus could rise from the dead, couldn’t he do the same? Wouldn’t that be more effective than sending Lazarus? But again, Dives sees Lazarus as his inferior who should do his bidding.

When it comes to the authority of the Torah, if one abides by it, then one would show hospitality, something Dives did not provide Lazarus in life. Thus, Abraham isn’t inclined to relieve his suffering, especially since he doesn’t seem to understand what landed him on the bad side of Hades. So, what should we make of this parable? Does it undermine the message of grace we embrace? As we ponder that question we can ask whether it makes sense coming from Jesus. So, as Amy-Jill Levine notes “The parable’s emphasis on the importance of Torah disturbs those readers who want to set up a law-versus-grace dichotomy, see the Law as impossible to follow (hence the need for the Christ), or are worried about works-righteousness. But this commendation of the Law and the Prophets would not have disturbed Jesus’s initial audience, and it makes good sense on the lips of Jesus the rabbi” [Short Stories by Jesus, p. 293].

Contextually the parable serves as a reminder that hospitality stands at the center of both the Jewish and Christian traditions. When Jesus told this parable, he was drawing on Jewish tradition. For us, it also serves as a reminder of God’s choice to bless the poor, that God is on the side of the poor. Thus, it fits with Jesus’ own sense of calling as the one who brings good news to the poor to define our own sense of calling (Lk 4:18)?  If we desire to be on God’s side, shouldn’t we follow Jesus’ example and side with the poor? Indeed, what does this parable say to those of us living in middle-class America? If Abraham is the patron saint of hospitality, what might this parable say to us about how we share the Table? Do we invite everyone or only those who are like us?   

 

Image Attribution:  Schäufelein, Hans, approximately 1480-approximately 1539. Rich Man in Hell and the Poor Lazarus in Abraham's Lap, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=57073 [retrieved September 15, 2022]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:The_Rich_Man_in_Hell_and_the_Poor_Lazarus_in_Abraham%27s_Lap,_from_Das_Plenarium_MET_DP849940.jpg.

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