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The parable of the rich man and Lazarus is significant to any discussion of the concept of hell. We find it in Luke 16, where we read:
There was a certain rich man who was clothed in purple and fine linen and fared sumptuously every day. But there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, full of sores, who was laid at his gate, desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table. Moreover the dogs came and licked his sores. So it was that the beggar died, and was carried by the angels to Abraham's bosom. The rich man also died and was buried. And being in torments in Hades, he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom. (vv. 19-23)
This isn't the end of the parable, but I want to pause at this point to make some preliminary comments on what we have read so far. The general rule of interpretation for parables is that we should look, basically, for one central point. This is not always the case. For instance, the parable of the sower makes several significant points in virtually allegorical fashion. But in general, it is misguided to try to find a one-to-one correspondence in meaning for each individual detail in an analogy, illustration, or anything resembling a parable. We can get lost in a sea of confusion if we do that with parables. That's why it's often very difficult to give a sound interpretation of a parable.
Having said that, I must add that we can rest assured that when Jesus borrows an illustration from nature or from the common life of the people, or comes up with a fictitious story to illustrate a point, though every point in the story may not carry with it a certain theological message, He would not make a statement that would be fundamentally incorrect. In other words, He would not use as part of His illustration some idea that would be in direct conflict with the teaching of the Word of God elsewhere. So that gives us a
little bit of license to speculate in principle about some of the secondary ideas that are contained within the parable.
With that in mind, let's look at this opening segment of the parable of the rich man and Lazarus to get an idea of where Jesus is going. He begins by describing, and contrasting, two human beings, one who is fabulously wealthy and the other who is living in a miserable situation. This second man's experience is marked not only by abject poverty but also by relentless suffering. He is stricken and afflicted with sores, which dogs come to lick. We could look at that little detail in two ways. We can see his misery as exacerbated and intensified by the presence of the dogs, which were despised creatures in Israel; to be called a "dog" in Israel was to be insulted in the worst degree. So Jesus may be trying to emphasize this man's misery by saying that the dogs were coming to lick his sores. Others have argued that when a man has sores on his body, a dog will repeatedly lick at those sores to try to bring some relief or comfort. So maybe what Jesus is getting at here is that the only comfort this man received was not from kindly human beings but from dogs; the dogs were more concerned for his well-being than the rich man or anyone else. At least they had the grace to come and try to minimize his pain and suffering. In either case, however, the image is clear. This man is in a most miserable condition.
The description of the rich man includes the detail that he was clothed in purple and fine linen. A person reading this in the ancient world would have seen immediately that this person was living the lifestyle of a king. We remember that kings were garbed in purple. In fact, to be elevated to the realm of the purple was to be elevated to the realm of the crown. So this man's riches are described by Jesus in the most elegant terms, because only those with fabulous wealth could afford garments that were dyed in purple and spun from fine linen. Obviously, Jesus is trying to paint a picture of extreme contrast between fabulous wealth and terrible poverty.
This might incline us to think that the main point Jesus is trying to communicate in the parable is that all poor people go to heaven and all rich people go to hell. But we must not draw that conclusion from this parable, because such a teaching would be on a collision course with what the Scriptures say elsewhere. We know there are many examples in the Bible of people who were fabulously wealthy and at the same time profoundly godly. One who is mentioned in the parable itself—Abraham—was one of the wealthiest men of the ancient world. Joseph of Arimathea was another
man of great wealth who was noted for allowing Jesus to be buried in his tomb. So the Bible doesn't say that anyone who is wealthy will ultimately go to hell and that it is intrinsically sinful to be wealthy. We don't want to draw that conclusion, although Jesus does frequently warn that those who have vast amounts of resources may have difficulty coming into the kingdom of God, for they have a tendency to think that they are selfsufficient. Jesus teaches this in the parable of the rich fool, who was so concerned about amassing wealth in this world that he neglected the care of his soul (Luke 12:16-21). But neither is Jesus teaching that all poor people go to heaven. The Bible denies both justification by wealth and justification by poverty. There's no particular inherent virtue in being poor, though it is often the poor people who flock to the comforts of Christ: because they find no comfort in this world, and no satisfaction in material things, they seem to be more open to hearing the message of the kingdom of God.
We're also told that the rich man fared sumptuously every day. His was a life of uninterrupted pleasure and hedonism. But Lazarus was laid at the rich man's gate each day, desiring to eat the crumbs that fell from the rich man's table. We remember the institution of gleaning in the Old Testament, in which God required land owners and farmers not to harvest and sell everything that they produced, but to leave the corners of the fields open for the poor to come and pick up what was left over from the harvest so that they would not be utterly destitute. You may see street people today who, in a pathetic expression of poverty, walk around with bags that contain everything that they own, or they may even push a cart from a supermarket with all their earthly goods in the basket. I've seen poor people in Grand Central Station in New York City going from one refuse container to another looking for scraps of food that people have thrown away, so that they may eat. So it was with this beggar, Lazarus—he stood at the gate hoping to sustain himself, literally, from the garbage of the wealthy man.
Then we are told that the beggar died and was carried by the angels to "Abraham's bosom." We have to be careful here. Is Jesus teaching that any time a saint dies and goes to heaven that he is borne into the presence of God by these angelic messengers? Or is this imagery describing the great beauty of the afterlife? I don't know the answers to those question, but it's fun to speculate. It certainly doesn't violate any principle of Scripture to think that at the moment we die, we meet an escort, and that the escort or escorts are the angels who carry us into the presence of Christ. Wouldn't it
be remarkable if, the moment we cease this life, we are immediately in the presence of the angels? There is at least one biblical precedent in our Lord's ascent into heaven in the presence of the angels who were there on the Mount of Ascension (Acts 1:9-11). So I like to think that this is normative, that Jesus is adding a detail here that is borrowed from the full content of biblical revelation, and that we, as His people, can look forward to an escort service that transcends any liveried limousine we ever might enjoy in this world.
Jesus calls the place to which the beggar is taken by the angels "Abraham's bosom." That term is sometimes used in our day as a nickname for heaven itself, the place where the father of the faithful is now resting in his eternal felicity. Then we're told that the rich man also died, but he went to Hades. There he could see Abraham and Lazarus "afar off." This does not necessarily mean that people who are in hell have the ability to see people who are in heaven, and vice versa, although, because Jesus draws this picture, it's hard to resist the inference that that is the case. At least for the purposes of His parable, Jesus tells the story such that the rich man, in the midst of his awful, dreadful torment, is able to see the splendor and joy that he is missing, and that the poor man is enjoying.
Jesus goes on to say, "Then he cried and said, 'Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am tormented in this flame" (v. 24). What can we draw from this? These words don't necessarily mean that hell is a place of fire, as we've already indicated, and that the torment is one of intense heat.
The point Jesus is making is that the sinner in hell would give everything he had, do anything that he could do, to make the number of sins he committed in this world one less. The rich man is seeking some relief from his pain, and now he's begging for help from the beggar he ignored. He's not asking for a sumptuous dinner to be sent down from heaven. All he asks is that Lazarus would dip the tip of his finger in cool water and touch his tongue. "Give me the slightest bit of relief," is the cry of the rich man. It's also interesting that he makes this cry with these words: "Have mercy on me." I wonder whether the rich man now understands that the torment he is suffering is just and that if any balm were to be given him for his pain, it would be, indeed, an act of mercy.
Next we read:
But Abraham said, "Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things and likewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is comforted and you are tormented. And besides all this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed, so that those who want to pass from here to you cannot, nor can those from there pass to us." Then he said, "I beg you therefore, father, that you would send him to my father's house, for I have five brothers, that he may testify to them, lest they also come to this place of torment." Abraham said to him, "They have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them." And he said, "No, father Abraham, but if one goes to them from the dead, they will repent." But he said to him, "If they do not hear Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one rise from the dead." (vv. 25-31)
With this plea, the rich man begs that Abraham would send someone to talk to his brothers, lest they fall into the same misery he is experiencing. He wants someone to go and warn them of what waits for the impenitent beyond the grave. If Abraham won't rescue him, surely he will rescue the rich man's brothers who are still alive. The rich man seems to think that extraordinary measures are called for—that his brothers will believe only if something miraculous happens. But Abraham says that God's teaching through Moses and the prophets is sufficient. Those who do not believe God's revelation will not believe His miracles.
I think the principle point of this parable is this: There is a great gulf fixed between heaven and hell, and once a person goes to one or the other, there is no bridge from hell to heaven after death. As the Bible says, "it is appointed for men to die once, but after this the judgment" (Heb. 9:27).
There is no second chance beyond the grave. And Jesus tells us, through the lips of Abraham, that how we die is final for all of us.
Perhaps one of the greatest follies we find ourselves committing is the folly of procrastination. We keep saying to ourselves that tomorrow we're going to turn over a new leaf. Tomorrow we will make ourselves right with God, but we're not quite ready. That was the thinking of the rich fool, and his foolishness was shown in the warning, "Fool! This night your soul will be required of you" (Luke 12:20a). We are not to postpone our redemption by such procrastination: "Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation" (2 Cor. 6:2b). Christ has come back from the grave.
We have the opportunity now, today, to hear Him, flee to Him, and embrace Him. Today may be the last opportunity we will ever have.