Worship is at the heart of who we are.

Sermon for the 16th Sunday after Pentecost

Text: Luke 16:19–31

Today Jesus gives us one of those stories that leaves no wiggle room. It isn’t sentimental. It’s meant to shake us awake.

We hear of a rich man - dressed in purple and linen, symbols of wealth and status in Jesus’ day. He feasts sumptuously every day. And at his gate lies a poor man named Lazarus. Lazarus is sick, covered in sores, hungry enough to want the crumbs that fall from the table, from the mouths of the one who is eating.

Jesus is painting a picture of inequality so stark that we can’t miss it.

Now there are a few surprises in this story that we can’t gloss over.

The first is that Jesus names the poor man. Lazarus. Why does this matter? It matters because, nowhere else in any of the parables does Jesus give a character a name. “The sower went out to sow”, “A man had two sons”, “There was a judge in a certain city”, “the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant” - Lazarus is the only named character in all of Jesus’ parables.

That is fascinating. And, as you can probably guess, not an accident.

The biblical Greek meaning of Lazarus, is “God has helped”. The poor man is given a name by Jesus, that cannot be misunderstood. God knows this poor man and has not forgotten him. It is complete reversal of the lived narrative.

The poor one is known and named by God. The rich man, remains nameless.

By just hearing this name, the people Jesus was speaking to, would have immediately known, that in the kingdom of God, the ones overlooked and forgotten by the world are the ones remembered by name.

And then, another surprise. Not only is Lazarus known by name in life - he also known in 2 his death. Lazarus is carried away by the angels to be with Abraham.

The rich man is buried and finds himself in torment. Another reversal.

The chasm between them has become permanent. What was ignored in life cannot be ignored in death. For anyone.

Now, this story is part of a long section in Luke’s Gospel where Jesus teaches about wealth, power, and discipleship. Just before this parable, Jesus has told his followers, “You cannot serve God and wealth.” And right after, the Pharisees - described as “lovers of money” - scoff at him.

Luke’s Gospel again and again lifts up God’s concern for the poor.

And so I want to remind you again of Mary’s song at the very beginning? The Magnificat: “He has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty.” What Mary sang in chapter one, Jesus preaches all the way up to here, in chapter sixteen.

It’s not a new ethic - it’s the same ethic of Moses and the prophets.

God has always cared about the poor, the widow, the orphan, and the stranger. God has always commanded God’s people to do the same. We cannot take care of ourselves, without taking care of our neighbor. Our lives are intertwined because of what God in Christ has done for us.

So when the rich man begs Abraham to send Lazarus back to warn his brothers, Abraham says: “They have Moses and the prophets. They should listen to them.”

The point is clear: they already know what God requires. We already know.

Justice. Mercy. Compassion. Love of neighbor. If we ignore these now, then even resurrection of Jesus Christ himself, will not convince us.

The second surprise in this text comes in verse 21 there is this small but powerful word. It 3 says Lazarus “longed” (epithymōn) to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table.

That word “longed” (epithymōn) is strong. It means a deep desire, like a craving.

The best way I can describe this word is by remembering when I was pregnant with Ada. I had the most unbelievable craving for fresh kumquats and oranges. I thought about them constantly - all day long and all night long for months. But of course, for most of that pregnancy they were out of season, and I was living in Iowa.

I got so desperate that I actually started calling companies in California and Mexico, trying to order 40-pound boxes of kumquats. I’m not exaggerating. Each time I was told they weren’t in season and not available, I cried. There was no way to satisfy that deep, almost absurd craving I carried around all day and all night.

And yet, I can’t even imagine, what it must be like, for someone who does not have food, to crave even crumbs.

Lazarus craved crumbs. He yearned for leftovers. It’s heartbreaking - and what makes it even more heartbreaking is that in Luke’s Gospel that same word, longing, is sometimes used for holy longing, like for the way Jesus “longs” to share the Passover with his disciples.

And here - it’s so twisted because the poor man, who is so hungry, longs not for love, not for friendship, not for God, but for crumbs, that should have been given freely.

The third surprise in this text, comes in verse 25, Abraham, who has welcomed Lazarus, throws me completely off guard, when he tells the rich man, “Child, remember…” Child - this tender word. Abraham doesn’t sneer or gloat. He calls the rich man “child.”

It’s a reminder that even in judgment, God’s love, God motherly and fatherly love, doesn’t vanish.

You know it’s easy to hear this story as like a threat: care for the poor, or else! But really, it 4 is an invitation into something so much bigger.

Sure, Jesus is warning us. Wealth can blind us. Comfort can harden us. We can walk by suffering so long that we stop seeing it at all. That’s real.

But the gospel here takes us deeper. God knows Lazarus by name. God lifts up the lowly. God promises that what is broken on earth will not be broken forever.

The gospel is that the story doesn’t end with despair.

We have Jesus who did rise from the dead, who meets us at this table, who gives us bread that is more than crumbs. We have the Spirit who moves us from fear into courage, from selfishness into generosity. From isolation into community.

We live in a world where the gap between rich and poor is wider than ever. Some feast daily, while others sit at gates. The temptation is to treat that as normal. To shrug our shoulders.

But Jesus says: it is not normal. It is not acceptable in God’s reign.

And here’s the good news: God’s vision isn’t just about individuals being nicer. It’s about systems being transformed. It’s about communities of faith daring to live differently. When we open our Clothes Closet, when we support refugees, when we stand with the marginalized, we are refusing to let Lazarus stay invisible at the gate. We are living out God’s great reversal.

And when we fail - and we will - and we do - we return to this table, where Christ feeds us not with crumbs but with his very self. Grace abundant. Mercy overflowing. And then Christ sends us back out to see with new eyes.

Friends, God remembers the ones the world forgets. God calls us - child - so that we remember too. To see Lazarus. To bridge the chasm now. To embody the kingdom where the hungry are fed, and the rich are set free from their failure to recognize their own siblings in 5 Christ.

May we live as if the great reversal is not only coming but is already breaking in - through us, by God’s Spirit, for the life of this whole world. Amen.

- Pastor Minna Bothwell