Luke 16:19-31 · The Rich Man And Lazarus
The Poor Man in the Mercedes
Luke 16:19-31
Sermon
by King Duncan
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Jesus told a story about a rich man named Dives and a very poor man named Lazarus. Dives drove a Mercedes, lived in a fifteen-room mansion, ordered his suits tailor-made from Europe. Poor Lazarus was a street person. The Public Library, where he tried to rest during the day—particularly on cold days—threw him out. Even the police turned their heads when they drove by. They were tired of giving him a free ride to jail for a meal and a night’s lodging. He had nowhere to sleep except a hard sidewalk.

There was a gate in front of the driveway leading up to Dives’ mansion. So Lazarus, tired and hungry, dirty and covered with sores, sat on the sidewalk and propped himself against the gate to Dives’ mansion and tried to sleep. Dives’ Dobermans wandered out to see the sleeping man. They perceived that he was no threat and quietly came over and licked the sores on Lazarus’ face. Each time he drove his Mercedes out the gate, Dives looked in disgust at the filthy piece of humanity leaning against the gatepost of his house and wondered why somebody didn’t do something to get people like that off the street. 

But that, of course, is not the end of the story. Eventually, both Lazarus and Dives died. Unexpectedly, Lazarus went to heaven, but poor, rich Dives went to Hades. Obviously, the very affluent Dives couldn’t believe what had happened to him. He had made it a personal rule in his early life never to experience any discomfort. It was his conviction that he deserved to travel in style—after all, in the words of the popular commercial a few years back, he was worth it! But now he was experiencing an eternity of stark discomfort. The air conditioner had failed and the water was turned off. “Please father Abraham,” he cried out, “have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.”

Interesting, isn’t it? Dives is in Hades. Lazarus is in heaven, but Dives still thinks of Lazarus as no better than an errand boy. 

Abraham replied, “Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. And besides all this,” says Abraham, “between us and you a great chasm has been set in place, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.”

 “But please, father Abraham,” cries Dives. “I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my family, for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.”

“Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.’”

Dives is desperate now. . . “No, father Abraham,” he said, “but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.”

Abraham shook his head. He said to him, “If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.”

You would think that, if a man is resurrected from the dead, people would listen to what he says, but not so. Are you willing to listen? It’s amazing how many who call themselves Christians are not willing to listen. There are at least three things that Jesus seems to be saying to us in this popular story of the rich man and Lazarus.

The first is that we are responsible for one another. The message of the story of the rich man and Lazarus is no different than the parable of the Good Samaritan. We are responsible for the good of our neighbor. The great commandment? We are to love God with all our heart, soul mind and strength. The second commandment? We are to love our neighbor as we love ourselves. Who is our neighbor? Anyone who is in need. That is a strand of truth that runs through both the Old Testament and the New.

In responding to Dives’ request, Abraham appeals to Moses and the prophets. Immediately we think of Amos and Micah and some of the other prophets who challenged Israel to remember its responsibility to its poor. Do you recall that as far back as Leviticus, however, God instructed the farmers of Israel not to take all of the grain out of the field or all the grapes off of the vines, but to leave some there for the poor? “Gleaning” it was called. Ruth, a great-great-grandmother of Jesus was gleaning in Boaz’ field, when she caught Boaz’ eye. Without that charitable law many of the poor would doubtless have starved. 

In Deuteronomy 15 the people are instructed to deal generously with the poor. Every seven years all debts are to be canceled. That’s one of the most radical laws in human history. We are not certain that it was obeyed, but that shows God’s heart for the poor. According to the tenth verse of that chapter, the people are to give generously to the poor and do so without a grudging heart; then because the people have obeyed God’s command in caring for the poor, God promises them that He will bless them in all their work and in everything they put their hand to. There is that recognition that while a few poor people are that way because they refuse to work, most are the victims of circumstances over which they have no control. Throughout the entire Bible, Old Testament and New, there is this concern for the unfortunate. 

Jesus was concerned about the poor, as this story and several of his other teachings reveal, as was the early church. If you love God, you care about people—all people, rich and poor alike. 

You and I have so much. Others have so little. The seven billionth baby was born on planet earth recently. Chances are very, very high that baby will live all his or her life poorly clothed, poorly housed, poorly fed. That is because most of the babies born today are in the so-called third world where poverty is the rule and not the exception. 

Most of us have never seen real poverty. We drive past houses that are run down and see children who are neglected. We say, “That’s poverty.” Someone has noted, however, that what impresses people in deprived countries about America is not how the wealthy live, but how the poor live. Our poor are wealthy compared to the poor in many developing countries. This is not to say poverty is not a great problem in America. It is probably more painful to be poor in America than in any other country upon earth, because everywhere you look, you see other people with so much. It is to say, though, that we are living in a world where there are millions of people who face such grim lives that even death can be a welcome prospect. And in Jesus’ name we must care about those people. 

But there is a second thing to be said: Judgment is a very real part of the Gospel message. There are consequences to our actions. Or to use the words which are mentioned often in scripture, “we reap what we sow” (2 Corinthians 9:6).

It is very difficult for a pastor today to talk about judgment. For one thing, recent surveys indicate that most Americans do not believe in a literal hell anymore. We have done a wonderful job of convincing people that God loves them, but we have done a poorer job of convincing them that actions, both positive and negative, have consequences. Secondly, it is almost impossible to speak from the pulpit about judgment without sounding moralistic. Even though we see judgment being worked out in people’s lives every day, it is difficult to deal with such a grim theme in worship, except perhaps in humor. 

A young pastor was unsettled one morning when he heard a church member boasting about how he had used a radar detector to avoid getting ticketed for speeding. The pastor couldn’t help but think that this sounded a mite unethical. Moments later, however, he was pleased to hear another parishioner tell this ethically-challenged church member in a somber tone, “It’s the man upstairs you need to be worried about.”

The pastor was about to chime in with a hearty “Amen” when the second man added, “That guy in the helicopter will get you every time!” (1)

Ah, yes, the man upstairs will get you every time. But to go the other direction . . . I heard about another man who had a very difficult mother, but he felt obligated to take care of her. He had a basement apartment built in his home for her. A friend of his was visiting. They were chatting in the living room. “I remember,” said his friend, “what a difficult time your mother gave you. Where is the old girl now?”

Fearing that the conversation would be overheard by his mother, the poor man simply pointed downward . . . in the direction of the basement apartment. “Oh, I’m sorry,” said his friend, “I didn’t even know she had died.” 

Scholars tell us that Jesus probably did not mean for us to take the story of Dives and Lazarus as a definitive statement of the nature of life after death, but as a firm Biblical principle that we will be judged on our treatment of the poor. 

Do you think this is the only time that judgment comes up with regard to our treatment of the poor? Remember Jesus’ parable of the Last Judgment when the sheep and the goats are to be divided? What was to be the decisive factor between heaven and hell? “I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat . . . I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink . . . I was naked and you did not clothe me . . .” We are not advocating a theology of works, but if we are faithful to the Scripture as a whole, we have to declare that caring about the down-and-out is very important spiritual business. 

Our country should have learned that lesson from our own history. Germany lay devastated after World War I. Poverty and unemployment provided fertile ground for the terrible weeds of Nazi dogma to grow and prosper. It took a Second World War to show us that it is a mistake to leave your enemy desolate and forsaken. So after World War II we sought to rebuild our former adversaries . . . and it worked! Today West Germany and Japan are among our finest allies. 

I hope that our benign neglect of Third World countries today does not produce a terrible judgment on us someday in the future as the Second World War judged our conduct after the First World War. If we do not seek justice and compassion in such places as the Middle East, Africa, and Central and South America, if we do not become peacemakers, do we not face the possibility that one day we ourselves may pay horribly? This is becoming a tiny world. Other nations are only a matter of hours away. Terrorism has become a part of our twenty-first landscape. The spread of nuclear weaponry and even biological weapons means that a mad man could one day wield awesome destruction upon our land. 

What I’m trying to say is that not only is it sound Christian doctrine for us to care for the needy at our door, it is also in our best interest.

Dives could not see that how he dealt with the street person outside his gate would determine his own destiny. Many of us may be making the same mistake. We are our brother’s brother. The problems of the down-and-out are our problems. There is a judgment built into the very fabric of creation on those who ignore the needs of their neighbors. 

That brings us to the final thing to be said. More than ever before, you and I need a missions-consciousness both at home and abroad.

Can you possibly think of the parable of the rich man and Lazarus without thinking about our responsibilities to those who are not as blessed as we are? And here is my observation on this matter: the happiest people in the world are people who have learned to share a bit of their time and personal resources with those who are in need.

From 1941 to 1953 Louis Evans was the pastor of the prestigious First Presbyterian Church in Hollywood.  He decided he needed to visit his church’s missionaries to find out their needs. One stop found him in Korea where he was to meet a missionary surgeon. The doctor had been a successful surgeon in the States before sensing God’s call to minister in Korea.

On the day Dr. Evans arrived the missionary doctor was prepping for surgery on an eight-year-old child. The pastor watched through a window in the tiny hut where the operation was going on. The operation lasted for nearly three hours. After cleaning up, the doctor went outside to walk with his pastor. As they walked Evans asked, “How much would you have received for that operation back in the States?”

“Oh, $500 to $750 is the going rate, I guess.”

This was years ago. It would be much, much more now. As they talked, Evans noticed that the surgeon’s lips were purple with the strain and his hands were trembling from three hours of tedious work. Then he asked, “How much for this one?”

“Oh,” the doctor replied, “A few cents.” Then he added, “A few cents and the smile of God.” And then the doctor put his hands on Pastor Evan’s shoulder, shook it lightly, and added, “But man, this is living!” (2)

And many people have discovered it really is living. I honestly don’t know if Dives ended up in a physical hell or not. I do believe this—there probably was not much joy in his life while here was alive. You simply cannot have a truly abundant life without Christ . . . and you cannot love Christ without loving your neighbor. We are responsible for one another. Judgment is a very real part of the Gospel message—what we sow, we reap. Perhaps more than ever in human history, we need a missions-consciousness both at home and abroad.

As George Bernard Shaw once wrote: “The worst sin to our fellow creatures is not to hate them, but to be indifferent to them; that’s the essence of inhumanity.”

Dives ignored Lazarus at his door and he paid a price. We pay a price, when we ignore our neighbor too. We never discover the joy that missionary doctor found when he placed his hand on his pastor’s shoulder and said, “Man, this is really living.” That’s the abundant life which only Christ can give. He gives it to those who walk in his footsteps.


1. Contributed by Dan Schnell, Readers’ Digest, April 1998, p. 185.

2. J. Daniel Baumann, An Introduction To Contemporary Preaching (Baker Book House; New ed. Edition, 1988), pp. 172-173.

ChristianGlobe Networks, Inc., Dynamic Preaching Third Quarter 2019, by King Duncan