Fellowship halls still warm from supper. There's
a faint clatter of dishes in the kitchen, the
smell of coffee and cornbread hanging in the
air, and somebody, well, they just scraped the
last bit of peach cobbler from the pan. It's
Wednesday night in a small town, Oklahoma church,
and it's time for Bible study. You don't have
to be here in the country to pull up a chair.
Maybe you're driving home, sitting on your porch,
or just trying to wind down after a long day.
May not be Wednesday where you are, but in your
headphones right now it is. And you have found
a seat at our table. And around here we don't
rush the word, we read it slow, like conversation
after supper, honest, hungry, little holy. Tonight's
lesson is called The Gulf Between Wealth and
Mercy, The Rich Man and Lazarus. It is a story.
about blindness and distance, about gates and
grace, and what happens when the chasm between
them starts to close. I'm Pastor Jim Wellhelm,
and this is the Semi Seminary. I'll see you on
the other side. Wayne's given me the thumbs up.
So welcome again, my Wednesday night Bible study
buddies. If you've been coming along with us
on Wednesday nights, you know that we have been
talking about the various parables of Jesus.
And we're just going to keep on talking about
those parables till we run out of them. And so
we haven't run out yet. Tonight is another parable.
And tonight's story is called The Gulf Between
Wealth and Mercy. the rich man and Lazarus. Now,
real quick, just so there's no confusion, the
Lazarus in this story is not the other Lazarus
you're thinking about. The one who gets raised
from the dead? This guy dies and is in heaven.
So we know it can't be the same one, plus Jesus
ain't done that yet. It's not in that part of
the story yet. So in case you were wondering,
well, how common was the name Lazarus back then?
So I looked it up because I didn't know. It's
the third most common name in Judea during the
time. Although they probably, that's the Greekified
version, they probably though would have used
the Hebrew Eliezer, which you've probably heard
of before and comes from the Old Testament. So
that's a different guy. But here we are, the
gulf between wealth and mercy. And as we begin
our story tonight, We're standing on the side
of a Galilean road, and you can feel the crowd
pressing in around Jesus. And in this crowd,
you've got the disciples that are close. They're
still nodding along, trying to understand what
he means when he talks about the upside down
kingdom. Then there are a few tax collectors
that are along the fringes, half hopeful that
maybe Based on some of his other things he's
been saying, Mercy might still have their name
on it. And then there are the Pharisees watching
from the shade of their fine linen, whispering
behind their hands to each other. Luke actually
says they were lovers of money. And When Jesus
warned that you can't serve both God and wealth,
they laughed under their breath. That's what
he turned towards them and looked at them, not
to scold, but to tell a story sharply enough
to cut through all of their silk of certainty.
And you can almost follow his eyes scanning them.
And he begins, the quiet way he says, there was
a rich man. You ever notice how a thin fence
or a gate can create a canyon between what's
kept in and what's kept out? Let's walk right
up to that gate, the middle of a Galilean afternoon.
You don't need a map. or be a historian to understand
this first scene. You just need to understand
the relationship between a high fence and a clear
conscience. You look down at your own sandals
dusty from the road, and then you look up at
the rich man's house. The stone is cool and clean.
This house isn't just a dwelling, it's a fortress.
built against the intrusion of the very inconvenient
truth of human suffering. Every perfectly manicured
shrub, every locked gate, every footman stands
guard, all of it designed to filter reality.
Money, you see, my dear friends, doesn't just
buy things. It buys insulation. It buys the right
not to smell things you don't want to smell,
not to hear the voices you don't want to hear,
and certainly not see the raw exposed brokenness
right outside your perimeter. This man unnamed
in the story, let's call him Dives. It's the
Latin word for rich. He wears purple and fine
linen. It's not a business suit. That's royalty
and ritual. The two most costly things in the
world worn for breakfast. Purple died from tens
of thousands of crushed sea snails. His linen
symbolizing the power that only the ruling class
could afford. Fine linen worn by the priests,
his life every day, was a performance of private
revenue and religious self -assurance. He was,
to all outwardly appearances, blessed. I think
you already know people who wear their prosperity
like some sort of spiritual uniform, often mistakes
material success for moral superiority. This
man lived every day like the Sabbath feast, oblivious
to the fact that his abundance was built upon
a foundation of scarcity. Then your eyes continued
to track down the dirt right at the base of this
towering gate. There he is, Lazarus. Jesus names
him That means God is my help. And it's the most
radical grace of the whole story. Lazarus is
everything the rich man is not. He's covered
with sores. He is a living, breathing testament
to suffering. He's fed only by street dogs, the
unclean animals. who are closer to him and more
empathetic to his pain than the priest -like
man behind the walls. Lazarus is right there
at the threshold. Think about it. Close enough
that the rich man has to step around him to exit.
Close enough to hear the clinking of gold and
the laughter from the perpetual banquet. The
rich man's life was a feast. Lazarus' life was
hunger pains outside the door. And here in this
story, friends, the tragedy isn't distance, actually
adjacency. The chasm, the canyon is not geographical,
it's perceptual. Because it was a deliberate
refusal to see the human being who shared his
common dust. Maybe now that you're seeing it
that way, you're noticing the Lazarus in your
own field of vision, the one the media filters
out, the one the algorithm ignores, the one whose
need is so persistent that you've just learned
to build an emotional gate against him. The first
act of blindness is simply learning to step over
the truth. Beloved, still your hands steady your
heart. The word of the Lord is a lamp and sometimes
that light reveals the dust of our own souls.
This parable is often preached as a simple fire
and brimstone warning, but it is far richer than
that. Let the scriptures speak the truth that
we need to hear, the truth of two men, two realities,
and one unbridgeable gulf built by comfort, not
the comfort we want to claim. Reading of the
word, Luke chapter 16, beginning with verse 19.
There was a rich man who was dressed in purple
and fine linen and lived in luxury every day.
At his gate, a beggar man named Lazarus covered
with sores and longing to eat what fell from
the rich man's table. Even the dogs came and
licked his sores. The time came when the beggar
died and the angels carried him to Abraham's
side. The rich man also died and was buried.
In Hades, where he was in torment, He looked
up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his
side. So he called to him, Father Abraham, have
pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of
his finger in water and cool my tongue because
I am in agony in the fire. But Abraham replied,
Son, remember that in your lifetime you received
your good things, and likewise Lazarus his bad
things. But now he is comforted here, and you
are in agony. And besides all of this, between
us and you is a great chasm, so that Those who
want to go from here to you could not, nor can
anyone cross over from there to us. He answered
the man, Then I beg you, Father, send Lazarus
to my family, five brothers. Let him warn them
so that they may also not come to this place
of torment. Abraham replied, They have Moses
and the prophets. Let them listen to them. He
said, no, Father Abraham. But if someone from
the dead goes to them, they will repent. He said
to them, if they do not listen to Moses and the
prophets, they will not be convinced even if
someone rises from the dead. This is the word
of the Lord. Warning to the comfortable and comfort
for the wounded. Thanks be to God. With the remembrance
echoing in our ears, let us walk inside this
story until it causes us to refocus our vision.
The memory of what we ignored is the sharpest
pain of all. The story moves quickly now. Time
does what it does. and they both die. Lazarus,
the man who knew only the dust and the pain of
the gate, is carried away by angels to Abraham's
side. The highest place of comfort, the bosom
of the father and the rich man, he wakes up in
torment. And he hasn't just lost his comfort,
he's lost his control. And the very first thing
he does, and you might already see it coming,
is he looks up and finally notices Lazarus. Maybe
you've felt this before. That little hitch in
your step when you see a need so profound it
ruins your morning plans. That little tug of
your conscience, the one the rich man learned
to ignore every single day. Sin was it, his wealth.
It was selective blindness that sealed up his
heart. It was the refusal to allow his resources
to be distributed by proximity to suffering.
His luxury became his liability. He believed
that the ethical or the spiritual trade meant
donating a percentage of his wealth. When Jesus
insists, The trade means giving your sight and
your presence. Now here in the reversal, the
rich man finally speaks Lazarus's name, a name
he probably never uttered in his life. He names
him only when he has a job for him to do. He
begs. Father Abraham have pity on me and send
Lazarus to dip his finger in the water and cool
my tongue because I am in agony in the fire.
Do you ever caught yourself thinking that the
person you ignored, the one you judged as lesser
might one day be useful to you? He sees Lazarus
now. but only as a servant, a means to his own
comfort. He learned Lazarus' name only when he
had a job for him, only when he required a drop
of the very mercy he had refused to offer Lazarus
himself. The whole tragedy of the rich man is
summed up in this request. He still wants Lazarus
to come to him. He still sees Lazarus' property
to be sent and used. Now here is the ache that
makes this parable a sacred, subversive masterpiece.
Abraham does not condemn him with wrath. He confronts
him with memory. Son, remember. that in your
lifetime you received your good things and likewise
Lazarus bad things but now he is comforted here
and you are in agony. I think you already know
that the chasm separates the afterlife was built
in the rich man's heart while he was well alive.
It was constructed by all of the crumbs he kept,
all of the sights he refused to see. Abraham
doesn't say Dives was wicked. He says Dives received
his good things. And this is actually a subtle
terror in this parable because his good things
was not a reward. but a final isolating payment.
He chose to live in a closed economy, collecting
his dividends in full while on earth, leaving
no space for the open -ended, non -revenue -generating
call of grace. And the question may not totally
be obvious to us yet, but what did he forget?
He forgot the very first commandment to love
God by ignoring the second to love your neighbor
He forgot the Shema the very breath of God He
forgot the call of Moses and the prophets that
demanded justice and mercy The chasm is the spiritual
and ethical distance dives created by walling
off his own heart. And maybe right now you're
noticing that your own trade is being tested
every day. The trade between the pursuit of private
comfort and the utility of spiritual discipline.
The great gulf was his own refusal of mercy cemented
by his self imposed oblivion. He spent his entire
life making sure nobody could cross the gate
that might inconvenience him. Now, nobody can
cross the chasm to comfort him. Two economies,
one based on linen and luxury, one based on grace
and lament have been finalized. separated not
by God's whim, but by dives choices. The rich
man, still trapped in the logic of spectacle
and control, has one desperation hand to play.
He begs Abraham to send Lazarus back, a ghost,
a phantom, a walking sign from the dead. to warn
his five brothers. Why five? I don't know. They
represent his own kind, his own class, his own
audience. They are people who right at this very
moment are still feasting and still stepping
over Lazarus, still convinced their purple linen
equates to spiritual blessing. And he wants a
spectacle. A divine magic trick to shock them
into lie. He says, no, Father Abraham, but if
someone from the dead goes to them, they will
repent. And I hope you don't need me to tell
you this, but we're all looking for a dramatic
sign in our lives because we somewhere along
the way have been convinced that salvation needs
lightning and billboards. We think transformation,
for whatever reason, requires trauma. We believe
that if God just gave us one irrefutable, undeniable
moment of televised glory, then we would change.
We think conversion needs shock value. But Abraham's
response is the O moment. The O moment of the
whole teaching. They have Moses and the prophets.
Let them listen to them. If they don't listen
to Moses and the prophets, they will not be convinced
by someone raised from the dead. And you could
almost see what Jesus is saying here. The rich
man's brothers are us. The warning is already
in the scriptures they have access to. The commands
to care for the poor, the widow, the stranger.
That's the whole law in the prophets. If the
everyday quiet word of the Lord, the honest unproduced
word, is not enough to change their perception
of their neighbor, then even a walking dead man
won't do it. Jesus is telling this parable with
his own cross and resurrection looming. He is
saying, I will rise from the dead and I will
be the ultimate undeniable sign. But for those
who are selectively blind, those whose hearts
are already fixed on revenue and comfort, Even
my empty tomb will be met with disbelief, denial,
and a demand for another sign. Friends, the gospel
is that the good news is for the broken. And
it is not a performance test. It is grace first,
then transformation. But you cannot receive grace
if your heart is sealed by comfort. The rich
man wanted to substitute a miracle for mercy.
He wanted some grand gesture instead of simply
opening his eyes and his gate. The Holy Spirit
doesn't need Brahma. The Spirit needs utility.
She needs open hands and willing hearts. The
Spirit is already in the world. already at the
gate, just waiting for us to simply see. The
ultimate ethical and spiritual failure is believing
that the written law is enough, even if it doesn't
lead you to living a practiced life of love.
So friends, let's bring this back to our own
front porches. This parable isn't a judgment.
It's a profound, urgent invitation. Where in
your life is your gate? Who is the Lazarus you're
stepping over in your schedule, your budget,
your sphere of influence? Chasm begins when we
choose to live in isolation, treating material
comfort as spiritual safety. And I think we've
all felt this before. The slight sense of hurry
when we pass a profound need. The quick scroll
past the photo of crisis. The instant filtering
of the news story that threatens our peace and
comfort. That hurry, that immediate need to reestablish
our perimeters is the first layer of archasms
being dug. And I think you already know that
grace doesn't let you keep your fences tall and
your conscience clean at the same time. This
week, your spiritual trade is tested every day.
The challenge is to stop waiting for some ghost
to rise from the dead and instead change your
perception right now. Changing the eyes of your
heart, it's difficult. but it is also the quiet
work of being able to see again. It means recognizing
that the man at your gate is the necessary condition
of your own salvation, because if you cannot
find a way to love him, you cannot claim to know
God. The utility of spiritual discipline over
the pursuit of revenue simply looks like this.
Look for the Lazarus at your gate. Give him a
name. Offer not just crumbs, but a seat at your
table. It means prioritizing presence over product,
mercy over metrics. The only thing worse than
not knowing a person's need is knowing it, choosing
to look away. But the good news today friends
is the gate is open Spirit is already on the
move and the ones who thought God forgot their
address church We're gonna find them and we're
gonna remember their names We're gonna build
a new porch Where the purple linen is traded
for shared towel and the only golf that remains
is the one between last night's ignorance and
the coming morning's mercy Amen? Amen. Thanks
guys, thanks for coming. So maybe what Jesus
is really saying tonight is this, grace builds
bridges where we build gates. The gulf between
wealth and mercy isn't measured in miles, but
in moments those small sacred seconds when you
decide to see the person that you're used to
stepping over. The rich man couldn't cross the
chasm because he never learned how to kneel,
but you still can. Mercy is waiting right outside
your door and her name might just be Lazarus.
So go in peace, but don't go untouched Let your
comfort be disturbed Let that disturbance be
holy Because the same Jesus who told this story
still stands at every gate calling every one
of us by name and Hey You might remember those
old -time preachers on TV used to say send me
your money so we can keep preaching the good
news Well, we're not asking you for a dime All
we ask is that you throw that old like you've
got there in the offering plate when it comes
around. And if you really believe in what we're
doing here, if you want to know when this little
digital church gathers again, tithe your subscribe.
That way, you'll know it's time for church. Hey,
until we open the doors again, I'll see you next
time. If you ain't gonna send your money to me,
then at least put that like in Pastor Jim's offering
plate. Do you hear me? I'm talking to the back
row, the late night saints, the cigarette sniping,
grace drinking, still ain't left, folks. This
right here, this right here, in your ears, right
now, this is revival. You don't have to pass
the plate down the pew. You just have to click
it. Click it like you mean it, brother. Because
the gospel don't travel on good intentions. It
runs on witness. And these algorithms? They're
your digital deacons. So testify. Share it like
it saved you. Like you got baptized in broadband.
Like grace finally made it to your front porch.
Throw it in in the plate.