Traveling a Rocky Road (Luke 10:25-37)

Where did the story of the Good Samaritan take place? On the road to Jericho (Luke 10:30)

“The Parable of the Good Samaritan” is one of Jesus’ most famous illustrations (Luke 10:25-37). The famed story, found only in Luke’s gospel, is told in response to an inquiry as to the definition of “neighbor” (Luke 10:29). The parable describes a highway robbery in which a traveler is brutally ambushed by brigands (Luke 10:30). After two respected members of the religious establishment pass the victim without helping a Samaritan goes out of his way to assist the fallen traveler (Luke 10:31-33). The fact that Jesus paints a Samaritan, a reviled race by Jews of his day, as the hero would have shocked the original audience. After unleashing this thinly veiled diatribe against prejudice and religious leadership, Jesus concludes the discourse by letting the audience determine who in the story is the neighbor (Luke 10:36).

A unique facet of this parable is that Jesus gives it a clearly defined real world setting: the traveler is attacked between Jerusalem to Jericho (Luke 10:30).

Jesus replied and said, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among robbers, and they stripped him and beat him, and went away leaving him half dead. (Luke 10:30 NASB)

While the story is fictional, its landscape is not. This twist adds a heavy dose of realism to the parable.

This may be another incidence of Jesus finding a teachable moment based on his own physical location. Peter Rhea Jones (b. 1937) speculates:

It is possible that Jesus was standing on or near the Jericho road when he spoke the parable since Bethany is on the same road and the next pericopé centers there. Certainly the parables usually associated with Galilee are not peopled with priestly sorts, whereas this parable may well have been uttered in Judea, a region more related to the Temple. (Jones, Studying the Parables of Jesus, 295)

Specifically the traveler is “going down” from Jerusalem to Jericho, situated east of Jerusalem in the Jordan valley (Luke 10:30). Encountering priests on this journey is not surprising.

Klyne Snodgrass (b. 1944) informs:

Jericho was such a popular residence for priests that estimates suggest that half of the twenty-four orders of priests (cf. I Chronicles 24:1-19) lived there, although this may be an exaggeration. Each order would serve in the Temple for one week. (cf. Luke 1:8). (Snodgrass, Stories With Intent: A Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus, 345)

From Christianity’s earliest days, the parable’s setting was interpreted allegorically. Marcion of Sinope (85-160) posed that the backdrop was appropriate because Jesus was the true Good Samaritan and he appeared for the first time in history between Jerusalem and Jericho.

Arland J. Hultgren (b. 1939) relays:

Why Jericho? Augustine [354-430] allegorized the parable, saying that the descent signified the loss of immortality as the man went from the heavenly city (Jerusalem) to one that signified mortality (Jericho). It is more likely, however, that Jesus chose Jericho as the destination because the road to it was known to be a treacherous and dangerous route. (Hultgren, The Parables of Jesus: A Commentary, 95)

Though “road” is not explicitly in the text, the path taken can be definitively located as there were few alternate routes. In Scripture, one always goes “up” to Jerusalem and down from the Holy City and in this case the terminology was quite literal.

Joseph A. Fitzmyer (b. 1920) describes:

According to Josephus [37-100], Bellum Judaicum 4.8,3 § 474, this was a distance of 150 stadioi (about eighteen miles) through “desert and rocky” country. Reference would be to the Roman road through passes and the Wadi Qelt; one would descend over 2500 feet above sea level (Jerusalem) to 770 feet below it (Jericho)...Josephus also mentions it as the way taken by the Legio X Fretensis [41-40 BC] en route from Jericho for the siege of Jerusalem (Bellum Judaicum 5.2, 3 § 69-70). (Fitzmyer, The Gospel According to Luke X-XXIV: Introduction, Translation, and Notes (The Anchor Bible), 886)

Darrel L. Bock (b. 1953) adds:

Traveling the road from Jerusalem to Jericho (another journey going the other direction is found in II Chronicles 28:15), he would have gone through the Pass of Adummim (Joshua 18:17), a name that is related to the Hebrew word for blood. This journey had a reputation for being dangerous long before Jesus’ time...It was a rocky thoroughfare winding through the desert and surrounded by caves, which made good hideouts for robbers who laid in wait. Even centuries after Christ’s time, robbers continued to exploit travelers on this road. (Bock, Luke 9:51-24:53 (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 1029)

The road’s topography leant itself to treachery. It possessed a sharp, steep descent. Situated in wild, desolate country, its curved path limited a traveler’s line of sight.

I. Howard Marshall (b. 1934) summarizes:

The man was travelling (κατέβαινεν – imperfect) from Jerusalem to Jericho along a road which...runs through desert and rocky country, well suited for brigands (Josephus Bellum Judaicum 4:474; Strabo 16:2:41 describes how Pompey destroyed brigands here, and Jerome [347-420] (in Jeremiah 3:2) spoke of Arab robbers in his time). It is not surprising that on his journey the man encountered robbers. (Marshall, The Gospel of Luke (New International Greek Testament Commentary, 447)

The road’s destination of Jericho also supplied ideal prey. Trent C. Butler (b. 1941) reports:

Herod [73-4 BC] had built New Testament Jericho as his winter palace on the same spot Hasmonean rulers had earlier built their palace. Herod included three palaces, a swimming pool, and a sunken garden. Thus, government officials frequently made the trip from Jerusalem to Jericho as did Jewish religious and political leaders. Criminals took advantage of the upper class’s need to travel this winding, crooked road through dangerous passes. They hid behind large rocks above narrow passes and preyed on travelers. (Butler, Luke (Holman Bible Commentary), 172)

The road has long had a nefarious reputation. Josephus (37-100) characterized the road as dangerous (Bellum Judaicum 4.451-475) and notes how some commuters took weapons to protect themselves as they traveled this road and others like it (Bellum Judaicum 2.8.4 §125).

The road’s reputation persisted for centuries. William Barclay (1907-1978) researches:

There is an extant letter dated A.D. 171 in which a complaint is made to the government by two dealers in pigs. They too had fallen into the hands of brigands “who assaulted us with very many stripes, wounding Pasion, robbed us of a pig and carried off Pasion’s coat.” In the fifth century Jerome [347-420] tells us that it was still called “The Red or Bloody Way.” Even as late as the middle of the nineteenth century travellers had to pay safety money to the local Sheiks if they wished to be safe from the attacks of the Bedouin...The grim history of the road extends even to our own time. H.V. Morton [1892-1979] in his book In the Steps of the Master writes, “When I told a friend that I intended to run down to the Dead Sea for a day he said, “Well, be careful to get back before dark.’ ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘You might meet Abu Jildah...’ ‘Who is Abu Jildah?’ ‘He is a brigand who has shot several policemen. There is a price of £250 on his head, and he has a habit of building a wall of stones across the Jericho road, stopping cars, robbing you, and if you resist, shooting you. So take my tip and get back before dusk...’” Even in the early 1930's this very road was still a danger to spot for the unwary traveller. (Barclay, The Parables of Jesus, 79-80)

Richard Gribble (b. 1952) adds:

In 1118, during the period of the Crusades, the Knight Order of Templars was formed to defend pilgrims on this path. As late as the nineteenth century, pilgrims received protection from Turkish soldiers along the way. (Gribble, The Parables of Jesus: Applications for Contemporary Life, Cycle C, 104)

Even if the reader is unfamiliar with the road’s well-deserved reputation, it quickly reveals itself in the events that transpire.

Remnants of the road still exist today. Henry Wansbrough (b. 1934) relays:

The old path from Jerusalem to Jericho runs down the Wadi Qilt, a deep, twisting canyon with rocky sides and blistering heat, some four hours’ smart walk. Today you can round a corner and find yourself in the middle of a flock of goats, herded by a bedouin boy and his noisy dogs. Just as easily it could be the bandits of Jesus tale. (Wansbrough, Luke: A Guide for Reflection and Prayer (Daily Bible Commentary), 95)

The old road, however, was even more menacing than the present one. It was considered especially dangerous even at a time when travel was customarily hazardous. Given this setting, the listener anticipates the story and is prepared for the violence that transpires. It is almost expected. There are modern equivalents.

N.T. Wright (b. 1948) relates:

Few Israelis today will travel from Galilee to Jerusalem by the direct route, because it will take them through the West Bank and risk violence. In exactly the same way, most first-century pilgrims making the same journey would prefer, as Jesus himself did, to travel down the Jordan valley to Jericho and then turn west up the hill to Jerusalem. It was much safer...But still not completely safe. The desert road from Jericho to Jerusalem had many turns and twists, and brigands could lurk out of sight in the nearby hills and valleys, ready to strike. A lonely traveller was an easy target. (Wright, Luke for Everyone, 127)

Darrel L. Bock (b. 1953) compares:

The cultural equivalent today might be a trip through parts of the inner city in the middle of the night. This road was hazardous, as the man who falls among robbers finds out. Thieves took advantage of the caves that lined the road as it wound through the desert, jumping travelers as they passed through. (Bock, Luke (The NIV Application Commentary), 300)

Given this reputation, some interpreters have viewed the traveler as irresponsible. William Barclay (1907-1978) indites:

The traveller...was obviously a reckless and foolhardy character. People seldom attempted the Jerusalem to Jericho road alone if they were carrying goods or valuables. Seeking safety in numbers, they travelled in convoys or caravans. This man had no one but himself to blame for the plight in which he found himself. (Barclay, The Gospel of Luke (Daily Study Bible Series), 165)

It is worth mentioning that the story’s hero, the Samaritan, is not critiqued for being companionless. Neither is the priest nor the Levite.

Frank Stern (b. 1936) reminds:

One of the surprising aspects of the parable was that all the travelers journeyed alone. Usually, people traveled the highway in groups. When the Essenes passed through, they carried weapons to protect themselves from robbers. (Stern, A Rabbi Looks At Jesus’ Parables, 220)

In fact, the traveler is completely nondescript. He may or may not have been reckless. Given his location, many have deduced that he is Jewish. This, however, is not stated. The only thing that can be stated conclusively about him is that he is in need of help. And for “good Samaritans” that is all that need be known.

Why does Jesus place his parable on a road synonymous with violence? How would the story change if set on an anonymous road? Does Jesus himself ever walk this path? Is the traveler in any way to blame for his predicament? If so, would he be less deserving of help? What is the modern-day equivalent of the road from Jerusalem to Jericho? Where do you feel uncomfortable walking alone? When have you been saddened but not shocked about events based upon where they occurred?

The setting prepares the reader for the story by eliciting an expectation for both violence and the presence of priests. These expectations also pave the road for the surprise: the startling answer to the question of “Who is my neighbor?” (Luke 10:29) The plot moves from the common occurrence of robbery to the uncommon help of the Samaritan. The story ends with the jarring charge to be the neighbor the Good Samaritan is: to help those in peril (Luke 10:37).

But even at the story’s conclusion, the road remains. Warren W. Wiersbe (b. 1929) critiques:

The road from Jerusalem down to Jericho was indeed a dangerous one. Since the temple workers used it so much, you would have thought the Jews or Romans would have taken steps to make it safe. It is much easier to maintain a religious system than it is to improve the neighborhood. (Wiersbe, Be Compassionate: Let the World Know That Jesus Cares (Luke 1-13), 115)

Martin Luther King, Jr. (1929-1968) challenges:

On the one hand, we are called to play the Good Samaritan on life’s roadside, but that will be only an initial act. One day we must come to see that the whole Jericho Road must be changed so that men and women will not be constantly beaten and robbed as they make their journey on life’s highway. True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar. A true revolution of values will soon look uneasily on the glaring contrast of poverty and wealth with righteous indignation. (King, “Why I Am Opposed to the War in Vietnam,” speech delivered April 30, 1967; The Riverside Church, New York).

Why was the road from Jerusalem to Jericho allowed to remain so vulnerable? What “road repair” needs to be done in your area? How can you help?

“Any revolution has to start with the transformation of the individual, otherwise individuals are corrupted by the power they get if their revolution succeeds.” - Wes “Scoop” Nisker (b. 1942)

Rich Man, Poor Man (Luke 16:20)

Who was the beggar who lay at the rich man’s gate? Lazarus (Luke 16:20)

The parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus is one of Jesus’ most intriguing illustrations (Luke 16:19-31). Appearing only in Luke’s gospel, the parable is directed at the Pharisees “who were lovers of money” (Luke 16:14). The tale depicts a rich man and a beggar who are acquainted in life and whose fortunes are reversed in the afterlife. Though the text recounts no action of either character, the beggar spends the afterlife at “Abraham’s bosom” while the rich man is relegated to Hades (Luke 16:22-23). Ultimately, the rich man asks that the beggar be sent with a message from beyond to his brothers on earth in hopes of producing their repentance (Luke 16:27-28). Being deemed futile, his request is denied (Luke 16:29-31).

The story is unique among Jesus’ parables as it is the only one to depict a scene in the afterlife. It is also the only parable in which a character is named. The poor beggar is called Lazarus (Luke 16:20).

“Now there was a rich man, and he habitually dressed in purple and fine linen, joyously living in splendor every day. And a poor man named Lazarus was laid at his gate, covered with sores, and longing to be fed with the crumbs which were falling from the rich man’s table; besides, even the dogs were coming and licking his sores. (Luke 16:19-21 NASB)

In Lazarus, Jesus paints a pathetic picture of abject poverty. Mark L. Strauss (b. 1959) describes:

The picture is one of absolute degradation. A later rabbinic proverb says, “There are three whose life is no life; he who depends on the table of another, he who is ruled by his wife, and he whose body is burdened with sufferings.” Lazarus has two out of three. From society’s perspective, he has “no life” at all. (Clinton E. Arnold [b. 1958], Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary, Volume 1: Matthew, Mark, Luke,136-37)

The rich man and poor man are presented as polar opposites in every way; both representing extreme cases on the affluence spectrum. Their descriptions are carefully balanced and the multiple details serve to accentuate the contrast as strongly as possible. On the surface, the rich man is in a far superior position than poor Lazarus.

Joel B. Green (b. 1956) observes:

The stage of Jesus’ parable is set by the extravagant parallelism resident in the depictions of the two main characters. The social distance between the two is continued through to the end, symbolized first by the gate, then by the “distance” (“far away,” Luke 16:23) and the “great chasm” fixed between them (Luke 16:26). The rich man is depicted in excessive, even outrageous terms, while Lazarus is numbered among society’s “expendables,” a man who had fallen prey to the ease with which, even in an advanced agrarian society, persons without secure landholdings might experience devastating downward mobility. (Green, The Gospel of Luke (The New International Commentary on the New Testament), 605)

Bernard Brandon Scott (b. 1941) adds:

The introductions of the two men are closely parallel. The first man has his richness; the poor man has only his name, Lazarus. The introductions set in parallel rich and Lazarus...The introductory clauses are nicely balanced: the first man’s introduction ends with “rich,” and the second man’s begins with “poor.” Likewise, the first man’s introduction begins with the anonymous “man,” and the second ends with a proper name, Lazarus. Perhaps this may also indicate the purpose of naming the poor man, for the name means “he whom God helps.” The name Lazarus contrasts the two characters: one is full of possessions, and the other is empty except for a name, but the meaning of the name may well hold out a promise. (Scott, Hear Then the Parable: A Commentary on the Parables of Jesus,149)

Michael Card (b. 1957) summarizes:

Two individuals could not be more different. One is fabulously wealthy, dressed in his finest clothes and eating the finest food every day...The other is pitifully poor, covered with festering sores, and left abandoned at the gate. (Card, Luke: The Gospel of Amazement (Biblical Imagination), 194)

Lazarus’ name is conspicuous. While it is not unheard to incorporate a proper name into a parable (Ezekiel 23:4), this marks the only time Jesus does so, not counting Abraham who appears in the same story (Luke 16:22, 23, 24, 25, 29, 30).

Because of the inclusion of the proper name, it has been argued that Jesus is recounting an historical event. David Lyle Jeffrey (b. 1941) explains:

The status of this narrative as a parable has sometimes been questioned. The objection attends to rhetorical framing of the story. Luke does not call it a parable, unusually, nor is it introduced with a comparative (“the kingdom of heaven is like unto...”); moreover this would be the only parable in which a character is given a name, Lazarus. (Jeffrey, Luke (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible), 202)

Though Jesus never categorizes this particular story as parabolic, presumably the descriptor from Luke 15:2 carries through chapter 16.

Klyne R. Snodgrass (b. 1944) refutes:

Preachers and certain people throughout church history sometimes have asserted that this story is not a parable but depicts reals people and the consequences of their lives. I am not aware of any modern scholar who would agree. Certainly Luke viewed this as a parable. It appears in a collection of parables, possibly stands chiastically parallel to the parable of the Rich Fool, and uses the exact same introductory words (anthrōpos tis) which Luke uses to introduce several other parables. This is without question a parable. (Snodgrass, Stories With Intent: A Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus, 426)

As much of the story is a dialogue (Luke 16:24-31), it has been posed that Jesus names the beggar as a literary device for narrative convenience: the story flows better with a character named. Still, the choice of name is intentional and the question remains why this particular name is selected.

Lazarus was a common name. Géza Vermes (b. 1924) views it as a Galilean corruption, representative of Jesus’ distinctive dialect (Vermes, Jesus the Jew, 53). The name has entered the English language through the word “lazar” which means “a poor and diseased person, usually with a loathsome disease; especially a leper” (Oxford English Dictionary).

Among its effects, naming the beggar Lazarus undermines the potential assumption that his unenviable earthly condition correlates to punishment for sin. I. Howard Marshall (b. 1934) assesses:

The rich man he is named...Λάζαρος, i.e. la‘zar, an abbreviation of ’el‘āzār, ‘He (whom) God helps’...Its significance may be that it hints at the piety of the poor man, although the general use of πτωχος in Luke (Luke 4:18, 6:20, 7:22, 21:3) already indicates that the poor are in general pious and the recipients of God’s grace (cf. Luke 14:13, 21). (Marshall, The Gospel of Luke (New International Greek Testament Commentary), 635)

Robert H. Stein (b. 1935) adds:

Jesus may have named the poor beggar intentionally as a pun in order to help his hearers understand that this poor man (“whom God has helped”) should be identified with such poor as referred to in Luke 4:18, 6:20, 7:22 and later in Luke 21:3, i.e., he was a poor believer...If Jesus intended this pun, there is still the question of whether Luke recognized the play on the name and whether Luke’s readers would have understood it. This is doubtful. Regardless, Luke did not call attention to the possible pun. Yet Luke continued the theme of reversal by giving the forgotten, poor man a name while the rich man went nameless. The plight of the poor man is...described by means of a fourfold contrast between the rich man and Lazarus...For similar contrasts and reversals, cf. Luke 1:51-53, 3:5, 6:20-26, etc. (Stein, Luke (The New American Commentary), 423)

The name exonerates Lazarus and he becomes one of many examples of righteous poor people in Luke’s gospel. Still, it is doubtful that Luke’s Greek speaking audience would have gleaned the significance of Lazarus’ name.

The Greek name Lazarus is equivalent to the Hebrew Eliezer. Darrell L. Bock (b. 1953) documents:

The name had numerous religious associations for the Jews. Among those who had the name were Aaron’s son and successor as high priest (Exodus 6:23), a priest who dedicated the rebuilt wall of Jerusalem (Nehemiah 12:42), a brother of the Jewish patriot Judas Maccabeus (I Maccabees 2:5), a respected martyr of the same period (II Maccabees 6:18-23), and Abraham’s chief trusted servant (Genesis 15:2). Many suggest that the latter figure is the source of the name because of Abraham’s presence in the story. (Bock, Luke 9:51-24:53 (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 1364)

As Bock notes, some have connected the character to Abraham’s loyal servant, Eliezer of Damascus (Genesis 15:2). The Septuagint even renders the name Eliezer as Lazaros (Genesis 15:2). In Jewish thought, Eliezer is an exemplar of loyalty and covenant service.

William R. Herzog II (b. 1944) relays:

J. Duncan M. Derrett (b. 1922) has proposed...that Lazarus is “none other than ‘Eliezer, Abraham’s steward,” mentioned in Genesis 15:2, who according to midrashic tradition, was sent by Abraham “to the land to observe how the ‘tenant’ [were] dealing with [their] property” and their obligation to show hospitality...Because Elizer became a well-known figure in Jewish Haggadah, the suggestion, though difficult to assess is not impossible. (Herzog, Parables As Subversive Speech: Jesus As Pedagogue of the Oppressed, 233)

Despite sharing a common name and association with Abraham, Eliezer of Damascus was hardly a beggar.

Others have connected the story to the Lazarus famously raised from the dead by Jesus (John 11:1-44). Scholars have argued that one story has influenced the other and arguments go both ways as to which anecdote influenced the other.

Craig A. Evans (b. 1952) examines:

If there is a connection between the Lazarus of the Luke account and the Lazarus of John 11, what is the nature of this relationship? There are at least two possible explanations. First, it has been argued that the Johnannine account of the raising of Lazarus is in fact a fictional illustration based upon the Lukan story: Lazarus was indeed raised from the dead (as the rich man had requested) as a witness, yet even then Jesus’ opponents did not believe (as Abraham had predicted). A second explanation, and one that is preferred to the first, is that because of the rough similarity between the point of the Lukan story and the experience of Lazarus in John 11, early in the manuscript tradition a certain Christian scribe (or scribes) inserted the name Lazarus. Although this suggestion must remain speculative, since there is no early manuscript evidence of the story without the name, it provides a reasonable explanation to the...questions raised above, for it explains why a proper name has appeared and why this name was Lazarus of all names. (Evans, Matthew-Luke (Bible Knowledge Background Commentary), 418)

Despite the common name, Lazarus of Bethany, like Eliezer of Damascus, is a man of means, not a beggar. Also, if Luke was privy to the story of Lazarus’ resurrection and wished to reference it, it remains to be seen why he would not simply include it.

In life, Lazarus’s name, with its allusion to divine assistance, seemingly mocked him. Arland J. Hultgren (b. 1939) writes, “The choice of name cannot be accidental. The man’s only help is in God, rather than persons around him (Hutrgren, The Parables of Jesus: A Commentary, 111).”

The name is also an indictment against his peers; incriminating those who did not help him. The fact that the rich man is well aware of Lazarus’ identity, calling him by name, further inculpates him (Luke 16:24).

Peter Rhea Jones (b. 1937) expounds:

The name Lazarus is clearly a Jewish name. The poor man, then, was Jewish. The rich man was Jewish. Thus, there is an incident of unbrotherliness, a denial of covenantal obligations, and a deep identification by the teller of the parable with the Jewish poor. The very person whom the rich man will not aid, God helps. Thus, the name is the exegetical clue correcting the one-dimensional idea of reversal and implying Lazarus’ trust in God’s grace, though this is not the primary thrust of the parable. If the parable were teaching that the poor were automatically blessed in the afterlife, there would be no need for the specific name Lazarus. (Jones Studying the Parables of Jesus, 173-74)

Since tragically no help came during his earthly life, Lazarus’ name may anticipate the afterlife, accurately predicting his fate: God would indeed help him.

Compare and contrast the rich man and Lazarus. Out of all of the characters in all of his parables, why does Jesus name Lazarus alone? Why does no one help Lazarus? Do you help the poor in your community?

It is significant that the beggar and not the rich man is named. To remedy this disproportionate situation, the rich man is often called “Dives”, Latin for “rich man”.

Justo L. González (b. 1937) relays:

In Luke 16:19, without further introduction, Jesus begins the story of the rich man and Lazarus. Traditionally, the rich man has been called “Dives” or “Divas”. The Vulgate says, “homo quida erat dives” (which simply means that a certain man was rich), and out of this the supposed name of the man has evolved. But the parable does not give the man’s name. This is significant as one more of Luke’s many examples of the great reversal. Normally, it is important people who have a name. They have recognition. They are somebody. But in the parable the rich and apparently important man has no name, and the poor and insignificant man does. From the very beginning of the parable, Jesus is illustrating what he has just said, that “what is prized by human beings is an abomination in the sight of God [Luke 16:15].” (González, Luke (Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible), 195)

Both God and the rich man know Lazarus’ name. He is the common bond, the figure everyone in the story knows. Frederick W. Danker (1920-2012) argues that naming Lazarus indicates that he enjoys true personhood, whereas the rich man, despite his worldly riches, lacks genuine identity (Danker, Jesus and the New Age: A Commentary on St. Luke's Gospel, 283).

David E. Garland (b. 1947) comments:

The name...gives Lazarus a measure of personhood. The rich man has no identity except as a rich man...Jesus may have chosen this name to hint at the contrast between the self-sufficient rich man, who helps himself (and helps himself too much), and the utterly dependent Lazarus, whom no one helps except God and whose angels whisk him away to a blessed afterlife. (Garland, Luke (Zondervan Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 669)

The world does not traditionally concern itself with the names of the poor. History may not have acknowledged the poor beggar, but God did. On the surface, the rich man has it all while Lazarus is of little importance. Yet, Lazarus is significant to God. As are we all.

Does calling the rich man “Dives” detract from Jesus’ intent? Who is truly the rich man in the Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus? What would you name this parable? How do you feel when someone calls you by name? Whose names do you know? Do you know your last waitress’ name? Do you know the name of anyone who is homeless like Lazarus? Where does your sense of self worth come from? Do you truly know that you matter to God?

“Lord, when I feel that what I’m doing is insignificant and unimportant, help me to remember that everything I do is significant and important in your eyes, because you love me and you put me here, and no one else can do what I am doing in exactly the way I do it.” - Brennan Manning (b. 1934), Souvenirs of Solitude: Finding Rest in Abba’s Embrace, p. 73