The contrasts could not be more dramatic: a rich man with an exquisite wardrobe, having a great time enjoying the benefits of his affluence, including the very finest food and wine. Outside, lying at the rich man’s gate, Lazarus, dirt poor, starving. Luke adds a grotesque detail for effect: dogs licking his sores. The poor man dies. Angels carry him to heaven where he rests on the bosom of Abraham.
The rich man dies and goes to hell, looks up and sees old Lazarus in heaven having a great time, in perfect security and comfort. The rich man pleads for mercy, to no avail. Pleads to be able to warn his five brothers to mend their ways, to no avail. What is done is done.
Notice he’s not a bad man—isn’t mean, arrogant, doesn’t chase Lazarus away. Just doesn’t see him. He’s not evil, just blind. His wealth has prevented him from seeing his fellow human beings and, most tragically, has prevented him from seeing what is happening to himself, his heart, his soul, his life.
Part of the reason for and mission of this church is to help us see. I cannot stop and help every person who asks me for help every day, for lots of reasons. It wouldn’t amount to much, and I really don’t know how best truly to help. But I can invest generously in an institution that does see and does understand and does help and changes lives, one life at a time.