Sermon – Luke 16:19-31
Sermon Preached by Reverend Tracey Gracey on Sunday, 28 September, 2025
This parable is not a visual description of heaven and hell.
It is not saying that rich people are bad and poor people are good.
Nor is it suggesting that being wealthy is the root of all evil.
This parable is about what we see, and what we choose not to see.
It is about how wealth and comfort can blind us and how the choices we make now, shape who we are, both in this life and the next.
To make sense of this parable, we need to hear it in the context in which Jesus told it.
Jesus had just been speaking to the Pharisees, who were well known as “lovers of money.”
They saw wealth as proof of God’s blessing and favour.
Jesus exposed the truth with these words:
“You cannot serve God and wealth.”
Rather than take him seriously, the Pharisees ridiculed Jesus.
And in response, Jesus tells the story of the rich man and Lazarus.
In this parable, the rich man isn’t given a name.
And that is important.
For in Jesus’ time, having a name was about honour, memory, and legacy.
To be nameless was to be forgotten.
The fact that the rich man is not named is itself a judgement — he is remembered only for his wealth and his fine clothes and feasting.
His whole identity is wrapped up in what he owned.
The poor man, however, is named.
And that is unusual — in fact, this is the only parable where Jesus gives someone a personal name. And the name matters.
For Lazarus means “God has helped.”
The man no one paid attention to is honoured and remembered by God.
In life, the rich man looked down on Lazarus. In death, he looks up.
Yet even then, the rich man doesn’t really see him. He speaks only to Abraham, treating Lazarus like a servant: “Send him with water, send him to warn my brothers.”
The blindness that marked the rich man’s earthly life follows him beyond the grave.
Abraham then speaks of a great chasm that has been fixed.
That divide didn’t suddenly appear after death.
It was already there in the rich man’s life.
Every time he walked past Lazarus at his gate, the gap grew wider.
Every time he stepped over him, he chose comfort over compassion, and the divide deepened.
In the ancient world, a gate was a place of judgment and decision-making. The rich man’s gate was a place where justice should have been done — yet every day, instead of being a place of welcome, it became a barrier.
In this parable, the rich man is not condemned simply for being wealthy, but for refusing to act.
He knew Lazarus’ name, yet he did nothing.
Wealth itself wasn’t the problem — the problem was blindness and neglect.
The chasm in this parable is not just about the afterlife.
It mirrors the divides that already exist in our world — the gap between rich and poor, powerful and powerless, the ones who are noticed and the ones who are ignored.
And yet, even in this parable, the rich man still doesn’t understand.
He still thinks the answer lies in something spectacular —
“Send Lazarus back from the dead to warn my brothers.”
But Abraham’s reply is clear and uncompromising:
God has already spoken through Moses, calling the people to love God with all their heart and to care for the widow, the orphan, and the stranger.
God has already spoken through the prophets, calling Israel back to justice, mercy, and compassion.
God’s Word has never been silent. The problem is not that the brothers don’t know — it’s that, like the rich man, they don’t want to act.
It is significant that Abraham is the one who speaks in this parable.
For the Jewish people, Abraham was the ancestor they looked to for security and identity. Yet here, it is Abraham who reminds them that true descent from him is not about bloodline or status, but about living out justice and compassion.
And the underlying message of this story doesn’t end with Abraham, for Jesus takes the story beyond Abraham. Abraham is the one who points back to the law and the prophets, but Jesus is the one who fulfils them.
Abraham speaks of listening to God’s word, but Jesus is God’s word made flesh. And unlike Lazarus in the story, Jesus is the one who really does rise from the dead — bridging the great chasm once and for all.
The divide between us and God is no longer too wide.
Through Jesus, we are invited to live differently. To love differently. To see differently.
And that is exactly what this parable is calling us to — a new way of seeing, a new way of living, a new way of loving.
This parable can encourage us to open our eyes.
This parable can encourage us to act with compassion.
This parable can encourage us to bridge divides.
This parable can encourage us to live as signs of hope.
Because in Lazarus we see dignity restored.
In the rich man, we see what blindness costs.
In Abraham, we hear the heart of faith.
And in Jesus, we see the love that bridges every divide.
Amen