Later rabbis would have seen Lazarus’s life as no life at all, since they had a saying that three situations resulted in no life: depending on food from another, being ruled by one’s wife and having a body covered with sores (t. Beṣa [=Yom Ṭob] 32b).

The story’s initial impression is clear: the rich man has a great life, while the poor man does not. The rich man throws away food; the poor man must scrounge for it. Some people have nothing, while others have expensive underwear. Observing this scene, we might well conclude that God has blessed the rich man, while the poor man must be the object of God’s judgment. Lazarus must be lazy or sinful, paying for his depravity with his destitution. But the parable will show that appearances can be deceiving. Jesus’ parables often come with a twist

This parable is not about money. It is about roots, the roots of our heart. Where do they reach? What nourishes them? Are our roots tied to earthly treasure? Are we looking to line the walls of our life with things and leisure? Are we too busy to notice the screams of human desperation? Or are the roots of our life drawing from the spiritual well of God’s concern and compassion, which ministers comfort to a world in pain?

The rich man’s chance to use his wealth in a way that pleases God had passed. Now he is outside the gate of the mansion of eternal blessing (see 6:20–26; Jas 5:1–6).

Listen to what Lewis says. He essentially says, “In the long run, the answer to all those who object to the doctrine of hell is a question: ‘What are you asking God to do?’ To wipe out past sins and, at all costs, give them a fresh start? He has, on Calvary. To forgive them? They won’t ask for forgiveness. To leave them alone? Alas, I’m afraid that is just what he must do.”

Many today reason that a loving God will change his mind in heaven and grant eternal life to many who do not honor him now; they say there is no permanent judgment or condemnation from God. Abraham disagrees.

The man’s request that a messenger be sent to his brothers is denied for a crucial reason. Abraham simply declares that Moses and the Prophets are good enough. The Old Testament makes clear what God desires of those who know him. “Deep pockets” that are holy have holes. God wants us to love him and to love our fellow human beings. He wants generosity. A text like Deuteronomy 24:10–22 seems to be in view, with its call to be generous and remember what it was like to be a slave in Egypt. So God’s people were to care for the stranger, the fatherless and the widow, even leaving some of their own precious harvest for them. In fact, numerous Old Testament texts make the same point, with many prophets calling for compassion (Deut 15:1–3, 7–12; 22:1–2; 23:19; 24:7, 14–15, 19–21; 25:13–14; Is 3:14–15; 5:7–8; 10:1–3; 32:6–7; 58:3, 6–7, 10; Jer 5:26–28; 7:5–6; Ezek 18:12–18; 33:15; Amos 2:6–8; 5:11–12; 8:4–6; Mic 2:1–2; 3:1–3; 6:10–11; Zech 7:9–10; Mal 3:5). Just reading Moses and the Prophets should make it clear that those who hear God serve others, because they recognize that in ministering to others in need they show God’s compassion. Love for God changes one’s values, so that persons made in God’s image become more valuable than things. Money is a resource, not a reward. It is to be used, not hoarded. It is to serve, not become master. Jesus said as much in his own ministry (Mt 6:24; Lk 10:25–28). To love God is to love and show compassion to the humanity he loves (Lk 6:26–36; Jn 3:16; Gal 6:10; 1 Jn 3:18).

This parable is ultimately about the heart. Where our treasure is, there our heart is. Where is our treasure being stored? Jesus says, “Healthy seed reflecting God’s desire is not planted in riches. Rather, it should penetrate the heart and be planted into people, especially people in need.” Jesus warns that treasure invested for the self yields emptiness, while treasure invested for God yields compassion.