vividly painted picture. The story, as it goes on, carries our
senses with it with irresistible power. Instead of readers, we
become lookers on. We are witnesses of all the events described. We
see. We hear. We fancy we could almost touch. The rich man's
banquet,--the purple,--the fine linen,--the gate,--the beggar lying
by it,--the sores,--the dogs,--the crumbs,--the two deaths,--the
rich man's burial,--the ministering angels,--the bosom of
Abraham,--the rich man's fearful waking up,--the fire,--the
gulf,--the hopeless remorse,--all, all stand out before our eyes in
bold relief, and stamp themselves upon our minds. This is the
perfection of language. This is the attainment of the famous Arabian
standard of eloquence,--"He speaks the =best= who turns the ear into
an eye."
But, after all, it is one thing to admire the masterly composition of
this parable, and quite another to receive the spiritual lessons it
contains. The eye of the intellect can often see beauties while the
heart remains asleep, and sees nothing at all. Hundreds read Pilgrim's
Progress with deep interest, to whom the struggle for the celestial city
is foolishness. Thousands are familiar with every word of the parable
before us this day, who never consider how it comes home to their own
case. Their conscience is deaf to the cry which ought to ring in their
ears as they read,--"Thou art the man." Their heart never turns to God
with the solemn inquiry,--"Lord, is this my picture?--Lord, is it I?"
I invite my readers this day to consider the leading truths which this
parable is meant to teach us. I purposely omit to notice any part of it
but that which stands at the head of this paper. May the Holy Ghost give
us a teachable spirit, and an understanding heart, and so produce
lasting impressions on our souls!
I. Let us observe, first of all, _how different are the conditions which
God allots to different men_.
The Lord Jesus begins the parable by telling us of a rich man and a
beggar. He says not a word in praise either of poverty or of riches. He
describes the circumstances of a wealthy man and the circumstances of a
poor man; but He neither condemns the temporal position of one, nor
praises that of the other.
The contrast between the two men is painfully striking. Look on this
picture, and on that.
Here is one who possessed abundance of this world's good things. "He was
clothed in purple and fine linen, and fared sumptuously every day."
Here is another who has literally nothing. He is a friendless, diseased,
half-starved pauper. "He lies at the rich man's gate full of sores," and
begs for crumbs.
Both are children of Adam. Both came from the same dust, and belonged to
one family. Both are living in the same land and subjects of the same
government. And yet how different is their condition!
But we must take heed that we do not draw lessons from the parable which
it was never meant to teach. The rich are not always bad men, and do not
always go to hell. The poor are not always good men, and do not always
go to heaven. We must not rush into the extreme of supposing that it is
sinful to be rich. We must not run away with the idea that there is
anything wicked in the difference of condition here described, and that
God intended all men to be equal. There is nothing in our Lord Jesus
Christ's words to warrant any such conclusion. He simply describes
things as they are often seen in the world, and as we must expect to see
them.
Universal equality is a very high-sounding expression, and a favourite
idea with visionary men. Many in every age have disturbed society by
stirring up the poor against the rich, and by preaching up the popular
doctrine that all men ought to be equal. But so long as the world is
under the present order of things this universal equality cannot be
attained. Those who declaim against the vast inequality of men's lots
will doubtless never be in want of hearers; but so long as human nature
is what it is, this inequality cannot be prevented.
So long as some are wise and some are foolish,--some strong and some
weak,--some healthy and some diseased,--some lazy and some
diligent,--some provident and some improvident;--so long as children
reap the fruit of their parent's misconduct;--so long as sun, and rain,
and heat, and cold, and wind, and waves, and drought, and blight, and
storms, and tempests are beyond man's control,--so long there always
will be some rich and some poor. All the political economy in the world
will never make the poor altogether "cease out of the land." (Deut. xv.
11.)
Take all the property in England by force this day, and divide it
equally among the inhabitants. Give every man above twenty years old an
equal portion. Let all take share and share alike, and begin the world
over again. Do this, and see where you would be at the end of fifty
years. You would just have come round to the point where you began. You
would just find things as unequal as before. Some would have worked, and
some would have been idle. Some would have been always careless, and
some always scheming. Some would have sold, and others would have
bought. Some would have wasted, and others would have saved. And the end
would be that some would be rich and others poor.
Let no man listen to those vain and foolish talkers who say that all men
were meant to be equal. They might as well tell you that all men ought
to be of the same height, weight, strength, and cleverness,--or that all
oak trees ought to be of the same shape and size,--or that all blades of
grass ought to be of the same length.
Settle it in your mind that the main cause of all the suffering you see
around you is sin. Sin is the grand cause of the enormous luxury of the
rich, and the painful degradation of the poor,--of the heartless
selfishness of the highest classes, and the helpless poverty of the
lowest. Sin must be first cast out of the world. The hearts of all men
must be renewed and sanctified. The devil must be bound. The Prince of
Peace must come down and take His great power and =reign=. All this must
be before there ever can be universal happiness, or the gulf be filled
up which now divides the rich and poor.
Beware of expecting a millennium to be brought about by any method of
government, by any system of education, by any political party. Labour
might and main to do good to all men. Pity your poorer brethren, and
help every reasonable endeavour to raise them from their low estate.
Slack not your hand from any endeavour to increase knowledge, to promote
morality, to improve the temporal condition of the poor. But never,
never forget that you live in a fallen world, that sin is all around
you, and that the devil is abroad. And be very sure that the rich man
and Lazarus are emblems of two classes which will always be in the world
until the Lord comes.
II. Let us observe, in the next place, that _a man's temporal condition
is no test of the state of his soul_.
The rich man in the parable appears to have been the world's pattern of
a prosperous man. If the life that now is were all, he seems to have had
everything that heart could wish. We know that he was "clothed in purple
and fine linen, and fared sumptuously every day." We need not doubt that
he had everything else which money could procure. The wisest of men had
good cause for saying, "Money answereth all things." "The rich hath many
friends." (Eccles. x. 19; Prov. xiv. 20.)
But who that reads the story through can fail to see that in the highest
and best sense the rich man was pitiably _poor_? Take away the good
things of this life, and he had nothing left,--nothing after
death,--nothing beyond the grave,--nothing in the world to come. With
all his riches he had no "treasure laid up in heaven." With all his
purple and fine linen he had no garment of righteousness. With all his
boon companions he had no Friend and Advocate at God's right hand. With
all his sumptuous fare he had never tasted the bread of life. With all
his splendid palace he had no home in the eternal world. Without God,
without Christ, without faith, without grace, without pardon, without
holiness, he lives to himself for a few short years, and then goes down
hopelessly into the pit. How hollow and unreal was all his prosperity!
Judge what I say,--_The rich man was very poor_.
Lazarus appears to have been one who had literally nothing in the world.
It is hard to conceive a case of greater misery and destitution than
his. He had neither house, nor money, nor food, nor health, nor, in all
probability, even clothes. His picture is one that can never be
forgotten. He "lay at the rich man's gate, covered with sores." He
desired to be "fed with the crumbs that fell from the rich man's table."
Moreover, the dogs came and "licked his sores." Verily the wise man
might well say, "The poor is hated even of his neighbour." "The
destruction of the poor is their poverty." (Prov. xiv. 20; x. 15.)
But who that reads the parable to the end can fail to see that in the
highest sense Lazarus was not poor, but _rich_? He was a child of God.
He was an heir of glory. He possessed durable riches and righteousness.
His name was in the book of life. His place was prepared for Him in
heaven. He had the best of clothing,--the righteousness of a Saviour. He
had the best of friends,--God Himself was his portion. He had the best
of food,--he had meat to eat the world knew not of. And, best of all, he
had these things for ever. They supported him in life. They did not
leave him in the hour of death. They went with him beyond the grave.
They were his to eternity. Surely in this point of view we may well say,
not "poor Lazarus," but "rich Lazarus."
We should do well to measure all men by God's standard,--to measure them
not by the amount of their income, but by the condition of their souls.
When the Lord God looks down from heaven and sees the children of men,
He takes no account of many things which are highly esteemed by the
world. He looks not at men's money, or lands, or titles. He looks only
at the state of their souls, and reckons them accordingly. Oh, that you
would strive to do likewise! Oh, that you would value grace above
titles, or intellect, or gold! Often, far too often, the only question
asked about a man is, "How much is he worth?" It would be well for us
all to remember that every man is pitiably poor until he is rich in
faith, and rich toward God. (James ii. 5.)
Wonderful as it may seem to some, all the money in the world is
worthless in God's balances, compared to grace! Hard as the saying may
sound, I believe that a converted beggar is far more important and
honourable in the sight of God than an unconverted king. The one may
glitter like the butterfly in the sun for a little season, and be
admired by an ignorant world; but his latter end is darkness and misery
for ever. The other may crawl through the world like a crushed worm, and
be despised by every one who sees him; but his latter end is a glorious
resurrection and a blessed eternity with Christ. Of him the Lord says,
"I know thy poverty (but thou art rich)." (Rev. ii. 9.)
King Ahab was ruler over the ten tribes of Israel. Obadiah was nothing
more than a servant in his household. Yet who can doubt which was most
precious in God's sight, the servant or the king?
Ridley and Latimer were deposed from all their dignities, cast into
prison as malefactors, and at length burnt at the stake. Bonner and
Gardiner, their persecutors, were raised to the highest pitch of
ecclesiastical greatness, enjoyed large incomes, and died unmolested in
their beds. Yet who can doubt which of the two parties was on the Lord's
side?
Baxter, the famous divine, was persecuted with savage malignity, and
condemned to a long imprisonment by a most unjust judgment. Jeffreys,
the Lord Chief Justice, who sentenced him, was a man of infamous
character, without either morality or religion. Baxter was sent to jail
and Jeffreys was loaded with honours. Yet who can doubt which was the
good man of the two, the Lord Chief Justice or the author of the
"Saint's Rest"?
We may be very sure that riches and worldly greatness are no certain
marks of God's favour. They are often, on the contrary, a snare and
hindrance to a man's soul. They make him love the world and forget God.
What says Solomon? "Labour not to be rich." (Prov. xxiii. 4.) What says
St. Paul? "They that _will_ be rich, fall into temptation and a snare,
and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction
and perdition." (1 Tim. vi. 9.)
We may be no less sure that poverty and trial are no certain proof of
God's anger. They are often blessings in disguise. They are always sent
in love and wisdom. They often serve to wean man from the world. They
teach him to set his affections on things above. They often show the
sinner his own heart. They often make the saint fruitful in good works.
What says the book of Job? "Happy is the man whom God correcteth;
therefore despise not thou the chastening of the Almighty." (Job v. 17.)
What says St. Paul? "Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth." (Heb. xii. 6.)
One great secret of happiness in this life is to be of a patient,
contented spirit. Strive daily to realize the truth that this life is
not the place of reward. The time of retribution and recompense is yet
to come. Judge nothing hastily before that time. Remember the words of
the wise man: "If thou seest the oppression of the poor, and violent
perverting of judgment and justice in a province, marvel not at the
matter: for He that is higher than the highest regardeth, and there be
higher than they." (Eccles. v. 8.) Yes! there is a day of judgment yet
to come. That day shall put all in their right places. At last there
shall be seen a mighty difference "between him that serveth God; and him
that serveth Him not." (Malachi iii. 18.) The children of Lazarus and
the children of the rich man shall, at length be seen in their true
colours, and every one shall receive according to his works.
III. Let us observe, in the next place, how _all classes alike come to
the grave_.
The rich man in the parable died, and Lazarus died also. Different and
divided as they were in their lives, they had both to drink of the same
cup at the last. Both went to the house appointed for all living. Both
went to that place where rich and poor meet together. Dust they were,
and unto dust they returned. (Gen. iii. 19.)
This is the lot of all men. It will be our own, unless the Lord shall
first return in glory. After all our scheming, and contriving, and
planning, and studying,--after all our inventions, and discoveries, and
scientific attainments,--there remains one enemy we cannot conquer and
disarm, and that is death. The chapter in Genesis which records the long
lives of Methuselah and the rest who lived before the flood, winds up
the simple story of each by two expressive words: "he died." And now,
after 4,800 years, what more can be said of the greatest among
ourselves? The histories of Marlborough, and Washington, and Napoleon,
and Wellington, arrive at just the same humbling conclusion. The end of
each, after all his greatness is just this,--"he died."
Death is a mighty leveller. He spares none, he waits for none, and
stands on no ceremony. He will not tarry till you are ready. He will not
be kept out by moats, and doors, and bars, and bolts. The Englishman
boasts that his home is his castle, but with all his boasting, he cannot
exclude death. An Austrian nobleman forbade death and the smallpox to
be named in his presence. But, named or not named, it matters little, in
God's appointed hour death will come.
One man rolls easily along the road in the easiest and handsomest
carriage that money can procure. Another toils wearily along the path on
foot. Yet both are sure to meet at last in the same home.
One man, like Absalom, has fifty servants to wait upon him and do his
bidding. Another has none to lift a finger to do him a service. But both
are travelling to a place where they must lie down alone.
One man is the owner of hundreds of thousands. Another has scarce a
shilling that he can call his own property. Yet neither one nor the
other can carry one farthing with him into the unseen world.
One man is the possessor of half a county. Another has not so much as a
garden of herbs. And yet two paces of the vilest earth will be amply
sufficient for either of them at the last.
One man pampers his body with every possible delicacy, and clothes it in
the richest and softest apparel. Another has scarce enough to eat, and
seldom enough to put on. Yet both alike are hurrying on to a day when
"ashes to ashes, and dust to dust," shall be proclaimed over them, and
fifty years hence none shall be able to say, "This was the rich man's
bone, and this the bone of the poor."
I know that these are ancient things. I do not deny it for a moment. I
am writing stale old things that all men _know_. But I am also writing
things that all men do not _feel_. Oh, no! if they did feel them they
would not speak and act as they do.
You wonder sometimes at the tone and language of ministers of the
Gospel. You marvel that we press upon you immediate decision. You think
us extreme, and extravagant, and ultra in our views, because we urge
upon you to close with Christ,--to leave nothing uncertain,--to make
sure that you are born again and ready for heaven. You hear, but do not
approve. You go away, and say to one another,--"The man means well, but
he goes too far."
But do you not see that the reality of death is continually forbidding
us to use other language? We see him gradually thinning our
congregations. We miss face after face in our assemblies. We know not
whose turn may come next. We only know that as the tree falls there it
will lie, and that "after death comes the judgment." We _must_ be bold
and decided, and uncompromising in our language. We would rather run the
risk of offending some, than of losing any. We would aim at the standard
set up by old Baxter:--
"I'll preach as though I ne'er should preach again,
And as a dying man to dying men!"
We would realize the character given by Charles II. of one of his
preachers: "That man preaches as though death was behind his back. When
I hear him I cannot go to sleep."
Oh, that men would learn to live as those who may one day die! Truly it
is poor work to set our affections on a dying world and its shortlived
comforts, and for the sake of an inch of time to lose a glorious
immortality! Here we are toiling, and labouring, and wearying ourselves
about trifles, and running to and fro like ants upon a heap; and yet
after a few years we shall all be gone, and another generation will fill
our place. Let us live for eternity. Let us seek a portion that can
never be taken from us. And let us never forget John Bunyan's golden
rule: "He that would live well, let him make his dying day his
company-keeper."
IV. Let us observe, in the next place, _how precious a believer's soul
is in the sight of God_.
The rich man, in the parable, dies and is buried. Perhaps he had a
splendid funeral,--a funeral proportioned to his expenditure while he
was yet alive. But we hear nothing further of the moment when soul and
body were divided. The next thing we hear of is that he is in _hell_.
The poor man, in the parable, dies also. What manner of burial he had we
know not. A pauper's funeral among ourselves is a melancholy business.
The funeral of Lazarus was probably no better. But this we do
know,--that the moment Lazarus dies he is carried by the angels into
Abraham's bosom,--carried to a place of rest, where all the faithful are
waiting for the resurrection of the just.
There is something to my mind very striking, very touching, and very
comforting in this expression of the parable. I ask your especial
attention to it. It throws great light on the relation of all sinners of
mankind who believe in Christ, to their God and Father. It shows a
little of the care bestowed on the least and lowest of Christ's
disciples, by the King of kings.
No man has such friends and attendants as the believer, however little
he may think it. Angels rejoice over him in the day that he is born
again of the Spirit. Angels minister to him all through life. Angels
encamp around him in the wilderness of this world. Angels take charge of
his soul in death, and bear it safely home. Yes! vile as he may be in
his own eyes, and lowly in his own sight, the very poorest and humblest
believer in Jesus is cared for by his Father in heaven, with a care that
passeth knowledge. The Lord has become his Shepherd, and he can "want
nothing." (Ps. xxiii. 1.) Only let a man come unfeignedly to Christ, and
be joined to Him, and he shall have all the benefits of a covenant
ordered in all things and sure.
Is he laden with many sins? Though they be as scarlet they shall be
white as snow.
Is his heart hard and prone to evil? A new heart shall be given to him,
and a new spirit put in him.
Is he weak and cowardly? He that enabled Peter to confess Christ before
his enemies shall make him bold.
Is he ignorant? He that bore with Thomas' slowness shall bear with him,
and guide him into all truth.
Is he alone in his position? He that stood by Paul when all men forsook
him shall also stand by his side.
Is he in circumstances of special trial? He that enabled men to be
saints in Nero's household shall also enable him to persevere.
The very hairs of his head are all numbered. Nothing can harm him
without God's permission. He that hurteth him, hurteth the apple of
God's eye, and injures a brother and member of Christ Himself.
His trials are all wisely ordered. Satan can only vex him, as he did
Job, when God permits him. No temptation can happen to him above what he
is able to bear. All things are working together for his good.
His steps are all ordered from grace to glory. He is kept on earth till
he is ripe for heaven, and not one moment longer. The harvest of the
Lord must have its appointed proportion of sun and wind, of cold and
heat, of rain and storm. And then when the believer's work is done, the
angels of God shall come for him, as they did for Lazarus, and carry him
safe home.
Alas! the men of the world little think whom they are despising, when
they mock Christ's people. They are mocking those whom angels are not
ashamed to attend upon. They are mocking the brethren and sisters of
Christ Himself. Little do they consider that these are they for whose
sakes the days of tribulation are shortened. These are they by whose
intercession kings reign peacefully. Little do they reck that the
prayers of men like Lazarus have more weight in the affairs of nations
than hosts of armed men.
Believers in Christ, who may possibly read these pages, you little know
the full extent of your privileges and possessions. Like children at
school, you know not half that your Father is doing for your welfare.
Learn to live by faith more than you have done. Acquaint yourselves with
the fulness of the treasure laid up for you in Christ even now. This
world, no doubt, must always be a place of trial while we are in the
body. But still there are comforts provided for the brethren of Lazarus
which many never enjoy.
V. Observe, in the last place, _what a dangerous and soul-ruining sin is
the sin of selfishness_.
You have the rich man, in the parable, in a hopeless state. If there was
no other picture of a lost soul in hell in all the Bible you have it
here. You meet him in the beginning, clothed in purple and fine linen.
You part with him at the end, tormented in the everlasting fire.
And yet there is nothing to show that this man was a murderer, or a
thief, or an adulterer, or a liar. There is no reason to say that he was
an atheist, or an infidel, or a blasphemer. For anything we know, he
attended to all the ordinances of the Jewish religion. But we do know
that he was lost for ever!
There is something to my mind very solemn in this thought. Here is a man
whose outward life in all probability was correct. At all events we know
nothing against him. He dresses richly; but then he had money to spend
on his apparel. He gives splendid feasts and entertainments; but then he
was wealthy, and could well afford it. We read nothing recorded against
him that might not be recorded of hundreds and thousands in the present
day, who are counted respectable and good sort of people. And yet the
end of this man is that he goes to hell. Surely this deserves serious
attention.