Six Fascinating Features of the Rich Man & Lazarus

Are we allowed to have a favourite parable? Some people love the Prodigal Son. The Good Samaritan stands out for others. For a long time, my favourite has been the Rich Man and Lazarus.

I spent about five years studying it for my doctoral degree. I might be biased, but this parable of our Lord is immensely interesting. Let me share six of its fascinating features. First, though, take a couple minutes to go and read it—it’s in Luke 16:19-31—and then come back to this article. 

What’s so intriguing about this profound parable?

1)     The Mystery of the Beggar’s Name

No other parable has a named character. In fact, this one has two people with names: Lazarus and Abraham. In every other of the dozens of Jesus’s parables, the characters are completely anonymous, introduced as “a certain man” or “a farmer” or “a certain king.” But the beggar at the rich man’s gate is called Lazarus. Having the distinction of a name, you might expect him to do something notable, but curiously, Lazarus doesn’t say or do anything in the parable—except die. He is entirely passive.

This anomaly has led to a lot of speculation about why Jesus tells us his name. Some say it’s because Luke 16:19-31 isn’t actually a parable at all, but a true story. Or maybe there’s a connection to John 11 and the other Lazarus. Maybe his name is meant to be symbolic, because Lazarus means “God helps.” Or he’s called Lazarus simply because this was one of the most common names in first century Judea.

We might never know why he is named, but I suggest it’s a way of honouring the beggar. A name gives him status, bestows dignity in his suffering. This is consistent with the rest of Luke’s Gospel where Jesus teaches about God’s special care for the poor; for instance, He promises that the lowly will be exalted (1:52-53). While the (anonymous) rich man loses everything, God ensures that the poor man who had nothing is remembered forever. His name speaks to the generosity of God’s grace.

2)     The Misery of Lazarus – and the Luxury of the Rich Man

With just a few sentences, Jesus paints a highly contrasting portrait of two lives. Verse 20 implies that Lazarus is unable to walk and must depend on others to deposit him at a place where he can beg. His body is also afflicted with sores, a skin condition that likely caused physical pain and a nauseating appearance.

Sitting outside the rich man’s mansion, perhaps Lazarus can hear the revelries within or smell the good food being served. He can certainly picture morsels falling to the ground from the rich man’s table (v. 21). Yet Lazarus remains on the outside, hungry and alone. The only relief arrives via the city’s dogs who lick his sores.

If Lazarus’s poverty is shocking in its bleakness, the rich man’s wealth is remarkable for its brilliance. Behind his estate’s protective wall, he enjoys all the advantages of his position (v. 19). For instance, he is clothed in garments associated with elite status: purple and fine linen. Besides the opulence of his dress is the manner of his life, for the rich man “feasts sumptuously,” and not just on special occasions, but “every day.” It’s a lifestyle of indulgent excess. Next to the abject misery of Lazarus, the contrast could not be more complete—and it cries out for resolution. Something must be done.

3)     The Urgency of Noticing the Poor

The rich man’s post-mortem punishment makes clear that he failed significantly in life. What was his sin? Doing nothing for his neighbour. Though they were separated by physical and social barriers, the rich man and Lazarus were in relationship to one another as fellow members of God’s people.

In the law, prophets, and writings, the Old Testament speaks with one voice about the obligation to show mercy. With his many material blessings, the rich man should’ve shown kindness to the beggar at his gate. Think of Deuteronomy 15:7-8, “If…one of your brothers should become poor, in any of your towns within your land…you shall not harden your heart or shut your hand against your poor brother, but you shall open your hand to him.” Jesus emphasizes this merciful disposition throughout Luke, like in the Good Samaritan, or his words in 6:38, “Give, and it will be given to you.”

Charity is an urgent calling, but by the time the rich man noticed Lazarus, it was far too late.

The beggar’s closeness to someone who had the means to relieve his suffering should make us think of the poor people we encounter today. At busy intersections and on city sidewalks, we come face-to-face with their need. The problems of poverty seem intractable, the solutions elusive. But does that mean we do nothing at all?

4)     The Afterlife Setting

All of Jesus’s parables take place in the first century Mediterranean world: in vineyards, fields, marketplaces, and cities. Dramatically different is Luke 16:19-31. After beginning with a familiar cityscape—a beggar sitting on the sidewalk—the setting transitions to another realm, once the two men die. And it’s a striking picture.  

Verse 22 describes Lazarus being carried by angels to “the bosom of Abraham.” Resting with the patriarch suggests protection and peace. As for the rich man, he is “in torment” in the flames of Hades. Between the two afterlife locales is a far distance and a “great chasm,” yet a conversation takes place between Abraham and the rich man. Their dialogue, however, lacks a good result for the rich man: he must stay where he is.   

For centuries, people have drawn all kinds of implications from this parable’s window into the afterlife. Does it mean that we’ll know each other in heaven? Will the righteous be able to watch the torments of the wicked? Will everyone be able to sit on Abraham’s roomy lap?

What doctrine can we safely derive from this parable?

Instead of getting carried away with speculations, we should focus on how the afterlife imagery functions in the parable. That is, what difference does it make that the two men’s destinies are portrayed in this way? Crucially, it helps us to evaluate the true worth of their respective ways of life.

Jesus wants us to notice how the contrast in the parable’s first scene is completely upended in the second scene: now Lazarus has found peace and company, while the rich man has become the lonely beggar, pleading for even a drop of water. The afterlife setting shows that it matters what we do with Jesus’s message. Our response has consequences that are eternal.

5)     The Power of a Story

Stories are “sticky.” This is one of the reasons Jesus told so many parables. They have power to catch and to hold the hearer’s attention, and to be remembered. The imagery of a parable often suggests that there is more meaning to be discovered here by turning it over in your mind.

That’s true for every parable, but this one has a special poignancy with its vibrant descriptions and extraordinary reversals. Luke 16:19-31 quickly engages our emotions with its portrayal of Lazarus’s pitiable condition in life and the rich man’s anguish in Hades. Jesus is inviting us to give close attention. Now that we’ve met Lazarus and the rich man and witnessed the outcomes of their lives, we must reflect on what’s going to be different for our own lives with respect to possessions, poverty, and the Scriptures.

6) Christ Between the Lines

Feeling the heat of Hades, the rich man asks Abraham to send Lazarus back to earth so he can warn the rich man’s five brothers. Abraham’s answer is that Scripture is perfectly clear on the brothers’ obligations toward the poor. The rich man presses and says that it’ll surely be different if someone returns from the dead with a warning. But Abraham is firm: “If they do not hear Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone should rise from the dead’” (v. 31).

This last word from Abraham almost certainly has a double meaning. The Scriptures are clear about showing mercy, and they’re also clear about the one who has risen from the dead. Later in Luke, the resurrected Jesus opens “Moses and the Prophets” to show his disciples what should’ve been plain: Jesus is the promised Christ (24:25-27, 44-47). We see this kind of teaching in Acts, too, when the apostles constantly use the Old Testament to preach about Christ’s person and work. Sadly, Acts also shows that those who know Scripture best aren’t always willing to believe in the one to whom “Moses and the Prophets” point: Jesus Christ.

So the parable’s conclusion is open-ended. Will the five brothers yet listen to Moses and the Prophets, and live? It becomes a question for everyone who reads the parable: Will we obey to what Scripture says about showing mercy?

Even more, will we believe in the one who rose from the dead, the one of whom Moses and the Prophets speak, the one who taught this profound parable?