As often as a rich man clothed in purple is presented to us, as often as a wounded poor man is set before us, so often is the arena of mercy spread open to us, so often is the racecourse of piety laid open to us; that from a heavenly spectacle we may observe how, in a short while, the poor man, for all his poverty, came to the palm of victory, while the rich man came to ruin. There was, he says, a rich man, and he was clothed in purple and fine linen, and feasted sumptuously every day. And there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, who lay at his gate, desiring to be filled with the crumbs that fell from the rich man's table (Luke 16). The rich man was clothed in purple, the poor man in livid sores; the rich man in fine linen, the poor man in squalor; the rich man in gold, the poor man in stench; the rich man reclined upon a feathered couch, the poor man lay upon the hardest ground;
the rich man belched from his banquets, the poor man gasped amid his festering sores; the rich man poured out wines, the poor man tears; the sated rich man threw away loaves, the hungry poor man had not a crumb; with his own dishes the rich man fed the dogs that barked at the poor man, while the poor man with his own wounds fed the rich man's dogs. And not to dwell on many things, we have read that to the rich man came all good things, to the poor man all evil ones; and yet adversity did not break the poor man, nor did all prosperity profit the rich man: rather, poverty advanced the poor man to philosophy, grief to virtue, contempt to patience, need to willingness, hunger to fasting, thirst to endurance, death to life; punishment to reward, earth to heaven, want to a kingdom;
and thus purple lifted the rich man up to pride, fine linen to luxury, abundance to inhumanity, plenty to impiety, ointments to decay, splendor to blindness, exaltation to ruin. Therefore neither does prosperity raise up the slothful, nor does adversity lay low the strong: for it is neither riches nor poverty, but the soul that either leads the grateful to reward or brings down the ungrateful to punishment. At the gate of the rich man the poor man is set, full of ulcers; and this happens not by human chance — it happens by divine judgment, that the conflict of rich and poor might be on earth, and the spectacle might abide in heaven. The rich man stood wholly clothed in the arms of riches; and over against him the poor man lay clothed in his very flesh — unless perchance his breastplate was one single wound over his whole body.
The rich man tarried amid choirs of servants, the poor man, stripped of his skin, was driven on by the goads of his griefs. The rich man hurled the darts of impiety, Lazarus opposed the shield of compassion; the rich man brandished his cruelty at the wound of the poor man, but the strength of the poor man frustrated the rich man of the innocent soul, for, as the body deserted him, his whole treasure passed over into the soul, and, the flesh trodden underfoot, the whole heavenly warrior ascended into the spirit, so that the cruelty of the rich man might find no place where it could strike. For this reason God had brought it about that the poor man should be ever in the eyes of the rich, and the rich in the eyes of the poor, so that each, in turn, might render care to the other for his differing sickness. The poor man was sick in body, the rich in mind.
Hence it was that the poor man's cure was deferred, that the rich man might take from that wound a medicine, from that groan compunction, from those tears repentance, from that patience an example, from that hunger mercy, from that thirst understanding — in sum, a heavenly fellowship out of earthly compassion; surely that the rich man, upheld by such great goods, might be pleasing to God, since the poor man, pleasing to God amid all evils, remained so before the eyes of the rich man. Deservedly then he was carried by angels who lay there; he who mourned was comforted in Abraham's bosom; and he lives to God forever who did not know how to live for himself in the world. It came to pass, he says, that the poor man died and was carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom. But the rich man also died, and was buried in hell.
The wretch received the burial of his soul before that of his body, nor was he consigned to the tomb of the body's repose before that of the tomb of punishment; that he might live ever unto punishment, since he was once dead unto life. And he was buried in hell; and he saw Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom. How great a reversal of things! Whither the rich man descended, whither the poor man ascended! There above he looks upon the one whom here below he had despised; and he sees him from hell in Abraham's bosom, the one whom, as he lay before the proud man on his couch, he did not see. Father Abraham, have mercy on me. Foolishly he begs from the father the mercy which he had denied to his brother. Have mercy on me. What has he to do with mercy, to whom now the whole has passed over into punishment?
Or what supplication before the father will be able to help the one against whom, in the father's bosom, his accuser resides? Lazarus holds the father's breast, and knocks upon the whole equity of that holy heart, that it may keep him a father to the good son, a judge to the evil one. Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am tormented in this flame. Send Lazarus: that he who is the cause of my torment may now, as the minister of refreshment, himself hold out to me only the tip of his finger — he to whom, as he lay, I then denied the solace of my whole hand. And send Lazarus that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue. So then he thirsts for a drop, who, when the poor man thirsted, poured out lakes of wine;
and he believes that a drop from a fingertip's edge will quench the flames of Gehenna — he who by his measures throughout the whole day did not quench the fires of drunkenness. But he asks that this drop be given him for his refreshment, which he had refused for the poor man's burning. This is the drop, rich man, that makes you cruel; this is the drop which, denied by you, dried up the mouth of Lazarus, since for the refreshment of the body a drop and a crumb suffice. Desiring, it says, to be filled with the crumbs that fell from the table. Bread was scattered, wine was poured out, and what was denied to the extremity of the poor man's life, this all went to waste for the rich man's pomp. And send Lazarus that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue. The tongue in the head, the head of evil;
it itself disparaged the needy, insulted the poor man, barked against piety, carped at mercy; and deservedly it is first in Gehenna, foremost in torment, the leader of punishments, because it itself forbade mercy, though to it had been given the power to command it. And although the course of the reading both compels me to say and invites you to hear who the purple-clad rich man is, who the poor Lazarus is, who the several brothers of the rich man are, and how before the day of judgment the rich man feels the torments of Gehenna — nevertheless, grief calls me back to say: The rich man died and was buried in hell. And if there is beneath the earth a prison, if there is a burning, if there is a hell tormenting without end, if there is a grim summoner who snatches us away thither after the labors of this age — why do we stand amazed? Where are we?
Who is this sleep that mocks us? What is this deadly forgetfulness that holds us? Why, despising all things, is not this alone our care — to escape from such evils — lest, living for the world, lest, running for others, we be suddenly snatched away to such great, such grievous, such cruel punishments? And if there is a possibility of ascending to the things above, if there is the power of living in the heavenly places, if there is Abraham's bosom prepared with all good things for repose, if there is Lazarus in the bosom of so great a father — nay, since there is no doubt, where both places and persons and names are described, why do we not exchange earth for heaven? Why do we not buy the eternal with the perishable? Why do we not obtain the abiding with things bound to perish? That we may both shun the punishments of hell,