How could it have come to this? How could he be in such a place? He was truly shocked and indignant at the humility of it all. He had been a wealthy man, a person of great means, used to feasting and celebrating with his friends. He had made his fortune through honest effort, a diligent work ethic, and a little bit of good luck. Small investments turned into big profits. A few uncertain business ideas he gambled on hit big and he had amassed quite a nest egg. He became more than just a provider for his family. He was a respected elder in the community, though, perhaps, known for some moral indiscretions, which were usually overlooked by those sitting around his table because of his wealth and status. He was a man of means and, so, a man of power, a man who was used to commanding others. Yet, now, he finds himself in torment. He is in pain, consumed by grief and suffering. All comfort, all hope of rest, melts away as he now knows only the flames of eternal judgment.

And there in Hades, he looks across and sees something even more terrifying. More dreadful than the pain he is experiencing is that he can see eternal bliss. He is witness to the comfort he will never have, the peace he will not know, the joy he will no longer experience. As he suffers, he has to watch what he did not attain, what all his wealth could never buy. This is a shocking image, a shocking story our Lord tells, and it jars us into thinking about our life set against the tapestry of eternity, not just beyond today and tomorrow, but beyond the veil of this age. We do not do that very well, and rightly so. It is difficult to concern ourselves with what might be after death, what might come with the return of Christ, and the new Heaven and new Earth. We are too consumed with the day-to-day, the endless trials, obstacles, and longings of our own lives. We want solutions to the here and now, not the hereafter.

Looking toward eternity is not the habit for the vast majority of us. But there are some who help us ponder such things. In my experience, it is usually those who draw close to the end of their temporal lives who guide our thoughts in this direction. I have been privileged to sit beside many of our brothers and sisters who, once active and energetic, navigated the difficult paths of our existence, but now find themselves unable to walk without pain or even recall what they want to say. Their independence and agency are slowly stripped away, now needing constant care from others. I remember how beautifully Jean Hecksell would speak about the promises of eternal life, about her longing to leave this world of suffering and welcome eternal peace and happiness. She missed her husband and wanted to hold him again. She began to find it easy to let go of the things of this life and, with trust, pray for the Lord’s call to leave this world. It was as if she were able to peek behind the curtain, and she could not wait to step through.

Lessons like that echo what Jesus is trying to say to us in this story of the rich man and Lazarus. It lays out for us how what we see here and now, what we experience in this life, does not necessarily reflect what is to be in the life to come. The distinctions we see, the haves and have-nots, the rich and poor, the power dynamics of our world, do not correlate to the eternal Kingdom of God. Yet, these are the very things which consume your thoughts and minds. You covet what you do not have, you fight for justice and fairness, and you are fueled by political outrage. Your days are marked by striving and suffering, but not real peace. And the things of God, the means of eternal hope, are left on the back burner, neglected and forgotten in your day-to-day actions.

As King Solomon famously said, “I applied my heart to seek and to search out by wisdom all that is done under Heaven. It is an unhappy business God has given to the children of man to be busy with. I have seen everything that is done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and a striving after wind” (Eccl. 1:13-14). These things do not carry on into the eternal abode of God. They do not earn us our place in His paradise.

The rich man in Hell sees Abraham and responds out of the denial of his situation. “Father Abraham,” he says, “have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the end of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in anguish in this flame.” He still thinks he has the stature to order others to do his bidding. Lazarus is still the poor man begging at his gate, a pawn to be commanded as he sees fit. It is not until Abraham rebuffs his demands and explains the reality of the situation, that there is no crossing over, that the time for action was before death, that he then begins his repentance. If it is too late for him, too late to ease his anguish, he asks that Lazarus be sent to his brothers, that he might warn them lest they too come to the pace of eternal torment. Surely, he knows that they, too, are heading down the same path that he was on.

But Abraham says, “They have Moses and the Prophets; let them hear them.” And the man responds, “No, father Abraham, but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.” But Abraham replies, “If they do not hear Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone should rise from the dead.” The assertion being made here, the things that stretch from the eternal into the temporal world of our day, is the Word of God. The Word is enough. The Word is sufficient to bring repentance, to change lives, to open the gates of Paradise, and to escape the eternal wrath. The Word of God reveals His promises to sinners like you, directing you to the coming of Christ and the gift of His sacrifice.

Notice how, in this text of the rich and poor man, only one is given a name. It is not the one with the means, but the one whose name is written in the Book of Life, the one who is welcomed to the side of Abraham. And this is where the promise of the eternal takes root in your life here and now. For you have heard the Word of God, you have been washed in the waters of Holy Baptism, marking you as a child of the Most High. The promise has been made to you that your name is written there alongside Lazarus. Your name is inscribed by the blood of the Lamb in the Book of Life. So, even now, as you fumble around and try to find the best way to navigate this life, the promise remains. You are forgiven, you are loved, and you will enter the eternal Paradise of God.