A Day in the Life of Jesus
There’s something about Jesus’ parables that always makes me pause. They have a way of taking what I think I know and turning it upside down. In Luke 16:19–31, Jesus tells a story that would have startled His listeners—especially the Pharisees, who equated wealth with righteousness and poverty with sin. He paints the picture of a rich man clothed in splendor, feasting every day, while outside his gate lay a diseased beggar named Lazarus. Lazarus was so destitute that he longed for crumbs and received only the company of street dogs who licked his sores. In time, both men died. The beggar was carried to Abraham’s side in comfort, while the rich man found himself in torment, crying out for relief that would never come.
The point of the story was not that wealth sends a person to hell or that poverty earns heaven. Rather, Jesus reveals something far more unsettling: it is possible to live surrounded by blessings and never notice the person at your gate. The rich man’s sin was not his wealth but his refusal to use it to help the one God had laid directly before him. He hoarded when he could have helped. His luxurious life became a wall that insulated him from compassion. The tragedy is that the wall followed him beyond the grave, becoming the great chasm that separated him from comfort in eternity.
This parable is not meant for “them” out there—it’s for us. I find myself asking: how often do I pass by the Lazarus figures God places in my path? It may not be a beggar with sores on the street corner, but perhaps it’s the neighbor quietly battling loneliness, the coworker weighed down with bills, or even the family member I find easier to ignore than to love. Jesus’ story presses me to wrestle with whether I see my possessions, time, and influence as tools for God’s kingdom or trophies for my own comfort.
The rich man pleaded with Abraham to send Lazarus back from the dead to warn his brothers. But Abraham replied that the Scriptures already spoke loudly enough. In other words, the Word of God had already commanded love for neighbor, justice for the poor, and mercy for the vulnerable. If his brothers refused to listen to Moses and the prophets, they would not even be convinced by a resurrection. And how striking that Jesus tells this story knowing He Himself will rise from the dead—and still many will not believe. The barrier is not information but the hardness of the human heart.
This challenges me deeply. We sometimes think, “If only people had a miracle, then they would believe.” But Jesus is clear: miracles don’t produce faith; God’s Word does. As Paul reminds us, “Faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ” (Romans 10:17). The issue is not that we lack signs but that we fail to trust the One who has already spoken.
The Pharisees listening to Jesus would have been stunned. They had been taught to see wealth as a sign of divine favor, so Jesus’ reversal of fortunes would have felt almost offensive. But this is exactly what Jesus does—He exposes the heart. As commentator William Barclay notes, “The sin of the rich man was that he never noticed Lazarus.” That hits me squarely. How often do I fail to notice the hurting person because I’m absorbed in my own schedule or weighed down with my own concerns?
This parable is also a sobering reminder of eternal realities. There is a heaven to gain and a hell to shun. Jesus doesn’t soften the truth. The rich man’s anguish is described vividly, not to sensationalize, but to awaken us. Eternity is not shaped by wealth, titles, or comfort but by the condition of our hearts before God and the way that condition is revealed in how we treat others.
And so, I ask myself and invite you to ask yourself: Am I hoarding or helping? Am I using what God has entrusted to me—whether it is much or little—to serve others in His name? When I hold tightly, I mimic the rich man, building walls that isolate me. When I open my hands, I participate in the life of Jesus, who though He was rich, became poor for our sake, so that by His poverty we might become rich (2 Corinthians 8:9).
What about the question of possessions? Do they own me, or do I steward them for God’s purposes? Jesus reminds us, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth… but store up treasures in heaven” (Matthew 6:19–20). Treasures in heaven are built not by accumulating but by giving—acts of mercy, kindness, generosity, and love.
This doesn’t mean we abandon wisdom or financial responsibility, but it does mean we hold our possessions with open hands. John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, once said, “Earn all you can, save all you can, give all you can.” His point was not about legalistic rules but about keeping the heart free from greed while living generously.
I am also reminded of the words of Proverbs 19:17: “Whoever is kind to the poor lends to the Lord, and He will reward them for what they have done.” Every act of compassion becomes an offering to God Himself. What the rich man missed was not just an opportunity to help Lazarus but an opportunity to love the Lord through serving Lazarus.
As you walk through today, perhaps pause and ask: Who is at my gate? It might be someone you can see, or it might be a cause God places on your heart. The Spirit will nudge you if you are willing to listen. And when He does, don’t delay. Step into generosity. Open your hand. Use what you have—whether money, time, influence, or skill—to reflect the love of Christ.
At the end of the story, the roles are reversed: Lazarus is comforted, and the rich man is in anguish. But this isn’t just about reversal; it’s about revelation. The parable reveals what was true all along: God sees differently than we do. As Hannah prayed in 1 Samuel 2:7–8, “The Lord makes poor and makes rich; He brings low and He exalts. He raises up the poor from the dust… to seat them with princes.” Our call is to align our vision with His and to walk in the generosity of His kingdom.
May you walk today with eyes open to the Lazarus figures in your life. May the Spirit give you both the compassion to notice and the courage to respond. And may the love of Jesus Christ shape not only how you handle your possessions but also how you see people. For in serving “the least of these,” we serve Him (Matthew 25:40).
For further reflection, see Desiring God: Wealth and the Kingdom.
FEEL FREE TO COMMENT AND SHARE