Briefly, the central character is a rich person who enjoys a fine life while at the gate sits a poor man who has insufficient to meet physical and medical needs. When both died, the poor man went to be with Abraham while the rich man was tormented — a classic role reversal! Later, the tormented rich man asked that the poor man be sent to his family to warn them. Abraham’s response was that there had already been enough warnings given, but each had gone unheeded.
Luke’s Gospel often carries this theme of reversal — the lowly lifted up, the mighty brought down. Mary’s song in the Magnificat (Luke 1) already set that tone. This parable is part of the same vision: a realm of justice where those long ignored are finally honoured.
The first thing I want to say about it is that it is a story and should be read that way. I don’t think it is a discourse on heaven and hell. I don’t think it is meant to give us a description of a physical place of torment with “agony in these flames” and a “great chasm” established between heaven and hell. It is a story with detail, even exaggeration, meant to hold the audience’s attention and make a point.
What strikes me first is that the poor man is invisible. He is lying right at the gate of the rich man’s house. The rich man would have walked past him every single day. And yet he is ignored, disregarded, unseen. Even more, he is unnamed. Actually, in this parable, the rich man is also left unnamed, but he is described by his lifestyle, his privilege, his wealth. The poor man is described only by his wounds, his hunger, his condition. He is defined by his suffering. There is quite a warning in that. Sometimes it is easy to reduce someone to their illness, their poverty, their struggle and forget that they have a name, a story, a history.
In a sense, this story holds up a mirror. It asks uncomfortable questions: Who do I not see? Who sits at my gate? Who is rendered invisible in my world?
Today in our culture, it would be unusual for a beggar with sores to lie at our doorsteps. I’ve never experienced that! Nevertheless, the invisible are still here, the unhoused, the lonely, the migrant worker, women — I needn’t make a long list as I have talked about those who are invisible so many times
I think at the heart of the story is the truth that how we live matters. Not in the sense of securing a reward in the afterlife, but in the way that our choices affect others here and now. Maybe the “great chasm” in the parable is already dug in life, when one person turns away from another’s need. This chasm between rich and poor is already real in this world. Gated communities, exclusive clubs and underfunded schools. Walls are built that keep people apart. Maybe, this deliberate segregation is why sometimes compassion feels so hard and is sometimes missing..
So, for me, this parable is not a descriptor of the afterlife but a call to awareness now. It is a story about how I allow chasms to be built in my life.
The challenge is not to speculate about heaven and hell, but to ask: how do I live today so that no one at my gate is unseen, unnamed, or unloved?
