“Rock a My Soul in the Bosom of Abraham”
September 28, 2025
Luke 16:19–31
‘There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. He called out, “Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.” But Abraham said, “Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.” He said, “Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father’s house — for I have five brothers — that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.” Abraham replied, “They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.” He said, “No, Father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.” He said to him, “If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.” ’ ***
A couple of weeks ago, I noticed a man under a tree while gassing the car. He held a sign which read, “Vet. Homeless and hungry. Will you help? God bless.” Vehicles drove by without stopping. I left trying to ignore him while revisiting my long standing personal debate over whether it is good or bad social policy to give cash to beggars.
Then this week I sat down to write and found the assigned Gospel text was the Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus. Immediately, I was picturing the homeless vet under the tree by the gas pump. I wondered. Was he Lazarus? Am I the rich man? Will he one day be comforted in the bosom of Abraham while I am in torment? I do not really think that is what this parable is saying, but I confess I did choose not to see what was right in front of me that day.
Jesus said the “rich man” chose not to see Lazarus who was right in front of him every day. He went on to tell how the rich many dressed in fine clothes and feasted “sumptuously” in stark contrast to hungry Lazarus who languished at the rich man’s gate. The rich man never acknowledged Lazarus or shared even a crumb to alleviate his suffering. The man’s dog had a better life than poor Lazarus.
Jesus continues. Both men die. Lazarus is “carried away by the angels to be with Abraham,” which reminds me of the African spiritual we sang in the Concordia Choir years ago with Paul J. Christiansen directing. Rock-a-my soul in the bosom of Abraham… Oh rock-a-my soul. He could bring out the basses to stirringly sing that phrases like none other. But I digress.
Lazarus gets the better deal. The rich man ends up in the heat of Hades. In a reversal of his earthly circumstances, the rich man sees Abraham and Lazarus “far away,” enjoying every comfort.
So, he asks “Father Abraham” to send Lazarus down with water to soothe his burning tongue, or barring that, to send Lazarus as a messenger to his wealthy brothers, who are still alive on earth. “Let Lazarus warn them,” he pleads, so that they will change their ways before it is too late.
Abraham refuses both requests and reports the chasm is fixed and no one can cross over. And the brothers? “They have Moses and the prophets” and everything they need in order to go in the right direction. If they will not listen to the wisdom already embedded within their spiritual tradition, Abraham says, “even someone rising from the dead will not convince them.”
This is a grim story. It should alert us to time running short, options diminishing and alternatives closing down.
Preachers say this parable is about wealth. But the homeless vet by the gas station makes me read this parable to be about the danger of blindness and callous hearts. In the pursuit of comforts, riches and security come the danger of blindness to human need and suffering.
The rich man worked to avoid tripping over Lazarus each time he left his house. Maybe he theorizes about “what kind of poor” Lazarus is — the lazy poor or the deserving poor? Or maybe he is mentally ill or just a drunk. Maybe at dinner parties, the rich man joins the abstract conversation about “the problem of the poor.”
None of this is the seeing Jesus calls us to. To see as Jesus sees is to jettison the questions and judgments of worthiness when it comes to people who live with little, far less than we do. To see as Jesus sees is to open ourselves fully in the stories of other people’s hunger, illness, despair and hopelessness.
In order to see Lazarus, the rich man needs to recognize his own complicity in the poor man’s suffering. He needs to admit that he has enough, more than enough to share with the Lazarus’ population we see. Maybe the rich man needs to grasp that his inability to seethe, grieve, even rage over the conditions of the poor man’s circumstances is a fatal sign of his own impoverishment.
This is radical seeing. This is the bold, courageous, and sacrificial seeing that scares us to death — precisely because it asks so much of us. It asks everything of us, and good grief, who among us signed up for everything when it comes to believing and living like Jesus?
What is amazing about this parable is that Jesus reverses the hierarchies we live by. These hierarchies have grown enormously in America in recent years. The story leaves no doubt in our minds that the rich man’s lifestyle is directly to blame for Lazarus’s hunger. But we live in a country where the majority of citizens refuse to believe the poor are nothing but personally responsible for the conditions and circumstances in which they exist.
The scariest part of the story for me comes when even after death, the rich man fails to see Lazarus. Privilege just clings to him — even in Hades! Though he piously calls on “Father” Abraham, he refuses to see Lazarus as anything other than an errand boy crying to him: “Bring me water.” “Go warn my brothers.” No wonder Abraham tells him that the “chasm” separating the two realms is too great to cross. Let’s be clear: God is not the one who builds the chasms in this world. We do that all by ourselves.
So, how does this parable come to those of us we do not have to beg for food, shelter, clothing, anything at all? How does it come to the 11,000 American “centi-millionaires” (those worth more than $500 million)?
I suspect that many people hold the notion that material comfort is a sign of God’s blessing. This idea of comfort being a sign of “blessing” is insidious. It is contrary to Jesus’s teachings. It insulates us from human suffering and isolates us to a life of superficiality, thin piety, and meaninglessness. Then where does this leave those like Lazarus in dire need of help?
To not see our own privilege and forego seeing the burdens of those who have less, is a refusal “to take hold of the life that really is life.”
I have learned from going to places in the world which are far off the usual tourist paths that it hurts to see abject poverty, hunger, suffering and hopelessness. It burdens the heart to put eyes on the squalor and depravity where people exist in this human family. Then it feels guilty to return home and be confronted with the luxuries, comforts and feast-like life I enjoy. It is disturbing to see the homeless vet holding the sign under the tree while facing the truth of my own complicity in the chasms that are so prominent in this world.
Perhaps this is why Jesus crosses over the chasms repeatedly, offering us a way forward, seeing the way of servanthood, selflessness and sacrifice. Or to use His own words: A way of losing our lives in order to gain them.
Like the rich man in the parable, Jesus teaches that we have everything we need in order to repent/go in a new direction, providing healing and help to the world’s poor through our generosity and the taming of our lavish styles of living. And this means without excuse we are to stop at the gate, see Lazarus, reach into our pockets and be Jesus as a first step in removing the chasm we helped create.
