Proper 21: Amos 6.1a, 4-7; Psalm 146; 1 Timothy 6.6-19; Luke 16.19-end

THE parable of the rich man and Lazarus is unique to Luke, along with those of the dishonest steward, rich fool, lost sheep, good Samaritan, and prodigal son. Running through them all is the theme of reversal.

A key feature of ancient Greek drama was sudden reversal in a character’s circumstances: peripeteia. Here, Lazarus and the rich man experience peripeteia (one from good to bad, the other from bad to good). Compare another “dramatic” parable, the prodigal son, with its peripeteia for a father and his younger son (both from bad to good).

In this parable, two characters in a mini-drama are tied together, first by chance and then by a moment of learning. They are not related. They are certainly not friends. Chance makes Lazarus choose this particular rich man’s gate to beg at. And chance gifts the rich man his purple (the Gospel equivalent of designer labels), fine linen, and feasts. There is no backstory to tell us whether Lazarus “deserved” to be a beggar, or whether the rich man had come by his wealth honestly. The first teaching-point is human asymmetry of circumstance.

In life, the rich man seems not to have noticed Lazarus, but Lazarus has used his brains (no point begging by a door where the inhabitants are as poor as you are) to choose his spot. Beggars cluster where they can maximise their chances of generosity (at best) or some modest discard of excess wealth (at least). Lazarus has made his choice sensibly; but he cannot make the rich man notice him.

Now comes the double peripeteia. Both men die. But it is not the deaths themselves that constitute the reversal of fortune. Rather, the way in which Jesus tells the story shows that this life and the next life are more like mirror-images of each other — at least in terms of values and priorities. There is no suggestion of the next world as a place of shadows, a half-life home, such as we find in other scriptures and literature.

The true reversal is in their circumstances. Lazarus is instantly at the side of Abraham, patriarch of patriarchs, receiving good things. The rich man goes to the underworld, to be tormented. I cannot accept the idea of the rich man’s torment as being perpetual. Torture by fire, with no hope of repentance bringing about a second peripeteia for the rich man, does not sound like divine justice to me. Readers will have their own views on this.

Luke is not friendly to wealth, unless it is put to divine use by helping others, as in the case of the good Samaritan. Heaped up and hoarded, wealth is a blight on humanity. Now, few subjects can be more sensitive than what individual human beings do with their money. Telling other people how to spend their money is not a way to win friends. But Luke is brave enough to “tell the truth and shame the devil”, as he weaves into this parable reflection on the right use of wealth.

The parable’s overarching message becomes clear when we factor in another element drawn from Greek drama. If drama thrives on reversals of fortune, it also blossoms when a character or character experiences a moment of “recognition”. In this life, Lazarus had carefully targeted the rich man’s residence, sitting at his gate, because he knew of his affluence. But had the rich man noticed him? Perhaps he had deliberately averted his gaze, to save himself from uncomfortable thoughts.

Safe in Abraham’s bosom, Lazarus does not look at the rich man’s plight. But the rich man watches him: a fitting payback for having been wilfully blind to the poor man at his gate. Finally, he recognises Lazarus. And, finally, we discover why his lack of response to Lazarus brought him to punishment. It turns out that he had always known the poor man at his gate, because (verse 24) he uses his name — “Send Lazarus.”

Why do I think God would not leave the rich man in torment for ever? Because, by the end of the parable, the rich man has learned a lesson. True, he thinks first of helping his family. But so do most of us. The key thing is that he has learned to recognise the needs of other people.

Last thought: apparently not everyone can believe in life beyond death until they experience it. That is food for another reflection altogether.