Turning Gates into Fences

Rev. Kevin Ireland

September 28, 2025

1 Luke 16:19-31

Jesus’ parable for us this morning is so scathing, so confrontational, literally, so incendiary
that interpreters have speculated it may have led to Jesus being cancelled. It is another
parable about a rich man, and this one hits home—challenging good church folks, like us,
to confront the blindness caused by our wealth and privilege. Jesus is speaking with his
brothers, the Pharisees. Let me pause here and tell you what I mean when I call them
brothers. In Luke’s gospel, the Pharisees aren’t always villains—they listen to Jesus, invite
him to dinner, they even warn him about Herod. But after he says, “You cannot serve God
and wealth,” those who love money sneer and look down their noses at him. So, he tells
them this parable.

Hear now Jesus’ words as recorded in the gospel of Luke 16:19-31. The Greek is translated
into English this way. Listen to God’s word for you.

19 “There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted
sumptuously every day. 20 And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with
sores, 21 who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the
dogs would come and lick his sores. 22 The poor man died and was carried away by the
angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. 23 In Hades, where he
was being tormented, he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his
side.

24 He called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of
his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in agony in these flames.’ 25 But Abraham
said, ‘Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things and Lazarus
in like manner evil things, but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. 26 Besides
all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to
pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.’

27 He said, ‘Then I beg you, father, to send him to my father’s house— 28 for I have five
brothers—that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of
torment.’ 29 Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to
them.’ 30 He said, ‘No, father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they
will repent.’ 31 He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will
they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’”

This is the Word of our Lord. Thanks be to God.

There was a Rich Man who was dressed in purple robes made with Tyrian dye derived from
the mucus of Murex snails. It took about 10,000 snails to make just a single gram of dye,
making it the most expensive product in the ancient Near East—worth more than three
times its weight in gold. And believe it or not, this proprietary process has been lost to the
ages. We don’t know how to make the dye today. This rich man also had the finest
underwear you could buy—not Calvin’s or Fruit of the Loom, but a finely woven linen
under-tunic worn next to the skin, below the regal robes. Such finery was reserved for
emperors, aristocrats, and the Chief Priest of the Temple. Not only is this rich man welldressed,
but he enjoys living large—feasting sumptuously, not just on holidays, not just on
the weekend. He parties every day, even on the Sabbath.

Outside the Gate lays a man. We do not know the circumstances or hardships that have
befallen him. We know nothing of his character—only that he has nothing and no one, only
the dogs to lick his wounds. He waits outside the gate, longing to satisfy his hunger with the
crumbs from the sumptuous feast inside. In Hebrew his name is Elazar, which means “God
helps.” He is the only character that Jesus names in his parables. And I can’t help but
recall God’s words to Isaiah, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by
name; you are mine” (Isaiah 43:1). God knows us all by name—even the one, especially the
one, lying and longing outside of the gate.

Upon His Death, “God helps” Lazarus and he is carried by angels to the bosom of
Abraham. Our modern translations soften the picture, rendering the Greek word kolpos as
“side.” I like the intimacy of the King James, which chooses “bosom,” referring to the
custom of reclining at a meal, where the honored guest rests closest to the host—in their
bosom. I love the imagery of that intimate embrace that awaits us all. And I’ve always loved
the song, Rocka My Soul in the Bosom of Abraham. In Hebrew scripture the “bosom of
Abraham” was the “good place” in the Land of the Dead, Sheol (or Hades).

The Rich Man, upon his death, finds himself in the “bad place.” In his torment he looks up
to see Abraham and Lazarus and cries out, “Father Abraham, have mercy on me, send
Lazarus to cool my tongue, for I am in agony.” The rich man asserts his relationship with
Abraham as his father, but he is blind to his kinship with the man whose name he suddenly
remembers. Both are sons of Abraham. Even in death the rich man is unrepentant,
unremorseful, unchanged—seeing Lazarus only as a servant and not as a brother, pleading
that Lazarus be sent to relieve his agony. Perhaps this is what creates the chasm
separating the rich man and Lazarus. Perhaps it is his failure to recognize that his selfcenteredness
has blinded him to the fact that Lazarus is his brother.

When the Rich Man’s Plea is denied, he makes a second request: “Send Lazarus to warn
my brothers so they don’t end up like me.” Abraham replies, “They have Moses and the
Rev. Kevin Ireland Grace Presbyterian Church (PCUSA) September 28, 2025 3
Prophets. Let them listen to them.” “But if someone from the dead goes to them, they will
change.” Abraham replies, “If they won’t listen to Moses and the Prophets, they’re not
going to be convinced by someone who rises from the dead.” And knowing the whole story
(spoiler—Jesus comes back in season two), we might chuckle at Jesus’ sardonic gallows
humor. And we might wonder if Jesus is speaking to us.

Because I Think that Jesus knew this parable could get him cancelled. His audience could
easily imagine Caiaphas, the Temple High Priest, in his purple robes and fine linens, in the
place of torment, calling up to Father Abraham, pleading that his brothers (the Pharisees)
be warned. Jesus is not pulling any punches. He is not only accusing the church of being
blind to the sujering of those at their gates. He’s warning them that their privilege and their
love of money have blinded them to the foundational teachings of Torah: to love your
neighbor as yourself, to care for the orphan and the widow, to welcome the stranger and
show hospitality to the refugee, to lift up the least and the last and the lost.

Jesus Is Challenging the Church—asking us, how do we treat the Lazarus in our lives? Who
is waiting outside of our gates? The addict needing a home, the immigrant family afraid of
being separated, those shackled by a system stacked against them, those who feel
rejected because of how they present or who they love, those who feel neglected and
unseen, those who know no one’s love. Those who live in places around the world where
any one of us would be considered wealthy—dining sumptuously three times a day. The
ones lying at our gate longing for the scraps from our table. If the wealthiest 10% of the
world shared even 10% of their income, hunger, homelessness, and preventable disease
could be eliminated.

Put Another Way—if we listened to Moses and the prophets, we could eliminate the
overwhelming needs of our brothers and sisters across Wichita and around the world.
Jesus begins his ministry proclaiming that he came “to bring good news to the poor … to
proclaim release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, to set free those who are
oppressed and proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” And that is what he does—gathering
in the folks who were outsiders at the gate, running to meet them like the father of the
prodigal son, carrying them on his shoulders like lost sheep, rejoicing and celebrating in
community when what was lost is found.

Jesus Breaks Open the Gate that separates us from our siblings in need and transforms
those gates into a table with room for us all—saints and sinners alike. As disciples of
Christ, and as the body of Christ in the world, we are called to continue the work of turning
gates into tables. One place where we can start is in the conversations hosted by Justice
Together. These are opportunities to help each other see those who are longing, those who
are lost, those who are still waiting. They can help us identify the gates that are barriers to healthcare, creation care, education, and employment. They can inspire us to work
together contributing time and talents to transform those gates into tables—into
opportunities to share God’s grace and our lives with those who have been left out and left
aside.

I Also Encourage You to take the insert for our special Peace and Justice offering home with
you this week and learn about the work that our church is doing, turning gates into bridges
around the world. Prayerfully consider how you are called to participate in this work. In this
hard teaching of Jesus, there is more than judgment, there is hope. Hope that hearts can
be changed, our eyes will be opened, that the gates we’ve built can be broken down by
grace. Hope that the One who rose from the dead is still calling us to rise—to rise above
apathy, above excuses, above the blindness of wealth and privilege. And this is not a
distant hope. It is a living hope.

Every Time We Open our eyes to the Lazarus at our gate, every time we choose generosity
over greed, every time we make space at the table for one more, the chasm narrows, and
the kingdom of God breaks in. The writer of 1 Timothy warned the church that “the love of
money is a root of all kinds of evil, and in their eagerness to be rich some have wandered
away from faith and pierced themselves with many pains.” But they don’t stop there. The
author encourages the church to “pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance,
gentleness. Fight the good fight of faith; take hold of the eternal life to which you were
called.”

That’s the Invitation before us: to pursue a life marked not by greed but by love, not by
walls but by welcome, not by blindness but by vision. To fight the good fight of faith by
turning gates into tables—tables of mercy, justice, and abundant grace. May it be so in
your life, in the life of your families, in the life of this congregation, and in the life of Christ’s
church.