The Rich Man and Lazarus: The Point of the Parable

"In no parable is an individual named.” 

So says the note in the Scofield Reference Bible at Luke 16:19. And yet oddly enough the same revered study Bible has the curious heading “The Parable of Aholah and Aholibah” (two proper names) at the beginning of Ezekiel 23.        

Most defenders of endless torment insist that the story of the rich man and Lazarus is not a parable because of the inclusion of the proper names of Lazarus, Abraham, and Moses. “No parable uses a proper name” has been repeated ad infinitum as absolute and unquestionable. 

But this is arbitrary. Who says no parable uses a proper name? Upon what authority is this supposed law of parables based? Does the frequent repetition of a conjectured rule establish the rule? 

In other words, does saying something over and over again make it true? There is no primary evidence in parables themselves, or any secondary evidence in the rest of Scripture, to substantiate that parables may not include proper names.

Why were the names used? Are the proper names in the story merely the actual, but not necessarily relevant, names of individuals, or do the names Abraham, Moses, and Lazarus form an integral part of the picture Christ intended to depict, and thereby help the picture make the point? I believe they are the very pillars of the point.        

It is a story that has a point, but many have missed the point because they have yanked the text out of its context and used it as a proof-text. It was not Christ’s intention to give an isolated description of the torments of hell as if it was an eschatological chapter in a book of systematic theology. Lifting the passage from its setting has produced exhortations long on traditional oratory but short on scriptural exposition. 

A brief consideration of the situation surrounding the narrative and some interesting but overlooked details of the account will go far in our comprehension of its intended meaning.     

The discourse actually begins in verse 15: “And he said unto them…”- them being the Pharisees who had heard his earlier story of another “certain rich man” (16:1) addressed to his disciples. Christ concluded the first story with an admonition concerning riches that ended with the stern reproach “No man can serve two masters… Ye cannot serve God and mammon” (v. 13). 

This brings us to the context and point of the story of the rich man and Lazarus: “And the Pharisees also, who were covetous, heard all these things: and they derided him. And he said unto them…” (vv. 14, 15). There’s the hinge. Covetous Pharisees who scorned the previous message is what prompted Christ’s second speech that concludes with the story in question. The consequences of covetousness are a primary aim of our Lord’s remarks, but when have you ever heard a sermon that included this story in this context and emphasized this point?  I’d say never.

So the context reveals that Christ was rebuking covetous Pharisees who justified themselves before men (v. 15). This same group of self-righteous hypocrites persistently touted their kinship to “Father Abraham” (Cf. Matt. 3:9; John 8:33-39; 53), and gloried in their strict adherence to the Law of Moses (Cf. Matt. 23:2; John 9:28, 29). The story exposes both claims as worthless for those who serve mammon and not God.  

“I know that ye are Abraham's seed; but ye seek to kill me,” Christ had earlier scolded the unbelieving Jews. “If ye were Abraham's children, ye would do the works of Abraham” (John 8:37-39). The rich man calling Abraham “Father,” and Abraham answering “Son,” was a potent means of stressing that the Pharisees (who were even then plotting to kill Jesus) were Abraham’s seed but not his true children. “Abraham is our father,” they boasted. “Father Abraham,” the rich man cries from Hell. “Son,” Abraham responds. But Lazarus, not the rich man, was resting in Abraham’s bosom. My how this severe strike must have stung!  

Abraham’s answer to the rich man drives the point home: “Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things: but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented” (v. 25). In life poor Lazarus begged for crumbs from the rich man’s table; in death the rich man begs for water from the tip of Lazarus’ finger. In life Lazarus was laid at the rich man’s gate; in death he is carried to rest in Abraham’s bosom. In life the rich man was coddled in luxury; in death he’s tormented in flames. The one who showed no mercy in life now cries for it in death. These parallel contrasts are trademarks of a cleverly crafted satirical parable. 

He who laid up treasure for himself in this life finds torment in death after life; he who had no treasure in this life finds comfort in life after death. It cannot be wealth alone that is condemned else wealthy Father Abraham would be on the other side of the gulf with the rich man. 

The rich man represents a man who could not serve God because his master was mammon. Lazarus had no such conflict of masters because he had no mammon to serve. The rich man had not been “faithful in the unrighteous mammon,” and therefore did not have “true riches” committed to his trust (16:11). The present life may favor the calloused and covetous rich man over the destitute and hungry beggar, but the verdict of the afterlife will be the just reversal of conditions.  

The rich man did not love his neighbor who he could daily see at his gate; therefore he could not love the unseen God (1 John 3:17; 4:20). It was self-incriminating that in death the rich man calls Lazarus by name, clear evidence that he certainly knew him in life. Lazarus merely desired fallen crumbs from the table when it was within the means of the rich man to come to the aid of his sore-ridden neighbor, a neighbor he was commanded to love as himself (Leviticus 19:18). 

The crux of the story soundly condemns covetousness. Covetous idolaters who worship the god of mammon and love neither God nor their neighbor are forewarned of the sobering reality of death and judgment.

For all who rightfully champion salvation by grace through faith, it should be remarkable that when Father Abraham says “Son, remember” he says nothing of faith, grace, or salvation. He says nothing of the promised Messiah or coming King; nothing of a crucified Savior or risen Lord; nary a word of sin or repentance, confession or conversion, a new birth or new life. 

Abraham simply reminds him of his affluent life. Remarkable! So much so that when preachers use this passage to speak of the bad news of Hell they must go elsewhere to share the good news of the gospel. They know better than to isolate this text from what the rest of the Bible teaches about salvation, but refuse to do the same concerning what the Bible teaches about final judgment.  

The second half of the story provides another message to the Pharisees (connected to vv. 16, 17), this one concerning the unfailing character of the law and its preparatory nature in relation to the kingdom of God. The rich man desires that Lazarus be sent to his five brethren “that he may testify unto them, lest they also come into this place of torment” (v. 28). The final answer and cold close of the story is Abraham’s assertion: “If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead” (v. 31). The end.

The law and the prophets were a sufficient witness to the living brothers in order that they may not perish, but have everlasting life through the promised Messiah, Jesus Christ. Jesus had earlier told the Jews: “Do not think that I will accuse you to the Father: there is one that accuseth you, even Moses, in whom ye trust. For had ye believed Moses, ye would have believed me: for he wrote of me. But if ye believe not his writings, how shall ye believe my words?” Abraham gave the rich man a similar terse reply: “They have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them” (v. 29). If they would not believe the sacred writings, neither would they believe Lazarus if he rose from the dead.

Just who was Lazarus? The Pharisees relentlessly persecuted Christ and his followers, including Lazarus of Bethany who the chief priests plotted to kill after he had- ah!- “rose from the dead” (John 12:10). In the story of Luke 16, the rich man urged Abraham to send Lazarus from the dead to his five brethren. It is not unreasonable to believe that this is the explanation for the use of the name “Lazarus.” Jesus had visited he and his sisters (Mary and Martha) back in Luke 10, and multiple “Harmony of the Gospels” places the story of Lazarus the beggar near the raising of Lazarus of Bethany (John 11).  

We do not know if the one of Bethany was or ever had been a beggar, but he had certainly risen from the dead. And whether or not he had sores, he had definitely been sick, a sickness that led to his apparently untimely death. Incidentally, he is introduced in John 11:1 as “a certain man… named Lazarus,” similar to the introduction of the beggar. Furthermore, he is the only identifiable Lazarus in the Biblical record.  

Christ “became poor” (2 Cor. 8:9), came “to preach the gospel to the poor” (Luke 4:18), and “the common people heard him gladly” (Mark 12:37). The sibling trio of Bethany were most likely some of these “blessed” common, poor folk (Luke 6:24). Though Judas viewed Mary’s use of the ointment of spikenard as extravagant, it was evidently a sacrificial act, of which Christ said, “she hath done what she could” (Mark 14:8), and the ointment was something she had apparently saved (“kept” – John 12:8). 

Consider also that Lazarus’ raising had caused such a stir and attracted such a crowd that it would have been well-known news far and wide, especially by the inquisitive and suspicious Pharisees (John 12:9).  

Whether before or after the raising, the statement “neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead” (Luke 16:31) was remarkably fitting considering the response of the Pharisees to the resurrection of Lazarus: “The people therefore that was with him when he called Lazarus out of his grave, and raised him from the dead, bare record. For this cause the people also met him, for that they heard that he had done this miracle. The Pharisees therefore said among themselves, Perceive ye how ye prevail nothing? behold, the world is gone after him” (John 12:17-19).  

Lazarus did indeed come back from the dead, but the Pharisees were not “persuaded.” Neither would they be when the Raiser of the dead arose from the dead Himself (Matt. 27:62-66; 28:11-15).  

Whether or not the beggar was the same Lazarus of Bethany, the rebuke of the story used the very claims of the Pharisees (sons of Abraham and adherents of Moses) against them, and exposed their wanton materialism while foretelling the eventual reversal of conditions of the poor and those whose master is mammon. It says that being a son of Abraham in life does not guarantee the comfort of his presence (Abraham’s bosom) in death; it says that being an advocate of Moses does not mean mammon servers will hear Moses and enter the kingdom of God; and it says that if the living will not listen to the unfailing law and prophets, neither will they respond to someone who rises from the dead. 

The evocative language and parallel contrasts of the principal characters bear the unmistakable texture of illustrative allegory. Told in response to the decision of covetous, self-righteous Pharisees, it is a picture portrayed by the poignant strokes of Christ’s bold brush, a satirical parable with a piercing point.