The Promise of Paradise - GraceLife Church of Pineville

Introduction

Will God perform wonders for the dead?
Will the departed spirits rise and praise Him?
Will His lovingkindness be declared in the grave?
His faithfulness in the place of the dead?
Will His wonders be made known in the darkness?
And His righteousness in the land of forgetfulness? (Psalm 88:10–12)

Those are the questions of the psalmist in Psalm 88—questions about the presence of God in the place of the dead.

The Old Testament questions about the presence of God in the place of the dead are answered in the New Testament by Jesus: “Today you shall be with Me in Paradise.”

If you want to see those words for yourself, Jesus’s answer and the question asked by the thief on the cross are in Luke 23:42–43. This interchange between Jesus and the man dying next to him holds particular interest as we conclude our series on the resurrection from the dead and next look at the final elementary principle of the oracles of God: eternal judgment.¹

In Luke 23:42, the thief requests, “Jesus, remember me when You come in Your kingdom!”

I’m pretty sure this was an event the thief imagined to be sometime into the future. You can imagine, they’re hanging on the cross, and it’s hard enough to speak as it is; but he gasped out something to the effect, Hey, whenever that happens—when this is over, and you’re cleaned up a bit … remember me.

But Jesus says, “Today.” And He says, “in Paradise,” not in the future kingdom.

And so, what we can say with surety is that the one who trusts in Christ for salvation, upon death, will be with God. Death ushers us quickly into the presence of God. And so for all the questions about the intermediary state, the New Testament answers a very important one. There is an immediacy to the intermediary. An immediacy in terms of both time (“today”) and relationship (“with Me”).

What we can say with surety is that the one who trusts in Christ for salvation, upon death, will be with God. … There is an immediacy to the intermediary.

Focus for a moment on the with Me part. Yes, there is the Paradise part—the where we go. We’ll get there (hence the title of this sermon: “The Promise of Paradise”). But let’s anchor ourselves in two post-resurrection passages recorded for us by the apostle Paul.

“With Me”

Let’s observe a New Testament promise about what happens to us when we die. When I say “us” I mean “believers”—those who have trusted in Christ for eternal life, which is the key to salvation. It’s a message of the thief on the cross: There was nothing he could’ve done to earn salvation. He lived a bad life, but that didn’t discount his chance of eternal life because he trusted Christ in the end.

In 2 Corinthians, Paul writes this of life after death:

Therefore, being always of good courage,² and knowing that while we are at home in the body we are absent from the Lord—for we walk by faith, not by sight—we are of good courage, I say, and prefer rather to be absent from the body and to be at home with the Lord. (2 Corinthians 5:6–8)

In these verses, Paul clarifies the teaching that if we are absent from our bodies—if we’re no longer on earth—we are with God.

Paul—who was “always carrying about in the body the dying of Jesus”³—was always aware that his time on earth would be up at some point, that the suffering would end in death. Here are his words in another letter he wrote (to the Philippians):

… that with all boldness, Christ will even now, as always, be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death.

For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. But if I am to live on in the flesh, this will mean fruitful labor for me; and I do not know which to choose. But I am hard-pressed from both directions, having the desire to depart and be with Christ, for that is very much better; yet to remain on in the flesh is more necessary for your sake. Convinced of this, I know that I will remain and continue with you all for your progress and joy in the faith … (Philippians 1:20–25)

I hope the simple message in this passage—that “to live is Christ”—is your key takeaway from our series on the resurrection from the dead. We’re empowered to live now because we will always live in the future.

We’re empowered to live now because we will always live in the future.

Notice Paul says being with Christ is always the better option. That’s the perspective the Christian can have. We don’t rush it—we don’t take our lives into our own hands; we let God and His grace and knowledge determine that timing. But when we do go to be with the Lord, that will be best, Paul says.

The common theme in all these verses—from 2 Corinthians and Philippians—is our permanent abiding with the Lord. With the Lord. That’s the whole point. If the last sermon felt confusing or frustrating or depressing, good! That’s the takeaway from those Old Testament times. The people were wondering, When will we have assurance? When will we have certainty? That’s why I’ve said it’s a privilege to live in this New Testament age—Jesus has come, and we have that blessing of surety now.

Jesus has come, and we have that blessing of surety now.

When we get to our series on eternal judgment, we’ll talk much more about what it must be like to be with God in the next life. For now, let’s look at this world of prior judgments. Let’s take up this question of “living where?” and this promise of Paradise

Views of Paradise

You’re probably familiar with what’s become the traditional view of Paradise. The traditional and widely accepted view is that there’s this place of the dead (generally, seen as being prior to the cross), and all of the dead go there, and one side of it is called Hades or Sheol, while the other side is called Paradise. You might call this a compartmentalized view of the afterlife.

But where do we get that idea?

Most of the writing on this subject does not come from the Bible. If you want to find the most detailed accounts of such matters, you’ll have to open one of the Books of Enoch, which talks about judgment chambers and levels of heaven. If you read Thomas Aquinas, he divides the next life into various categories or holding places: Paradise, hell, limbo (there’s a limbo of the patriarchs and a limbo of the children), and purgatory.

Most of the details and statements found in these writings aren’t found in Scripture. So be careful of taking a predetermined, assumed, literal view. It’s OK to embrace some mystery and uncertainty, and we can do that because we hold on to the certainty of the goodness of God. Scripture, I think, leans into the mystery.

Be careful of taking a predetermined, assumed, literal view [of the afterlife.] … Scripture, I think, leans into the mystery.

Look again at Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians—a place in his writings where he tells us the most about the next life:

Boasting is necessary, though it is not profitable; but I will go on to visions and revelations of the Lord. I know a man⁴ in Christ who fourteen years ago—whether in the body I do not know, or out of the body I do not know, God knows—such a man was caught up to the third heaven. And I know how such a man—whether in the body or apart from the body I do not know, God knows—was caught up into Paradise and heard inexpressible words, which a man is not permitted to speak. (2 Corinthians 12:1–4)

It may seem like we’re piling up all the odd passages here at the end of our resurrection study (last sermon, we looked at Samuel coming back from the dead; now we’ve got Paul caught into Paradise, and we’re not even to our main passage yet!). For those who insist they’ve got the next life mapped out neatly (“Paradise is this, heaven is this”), you have to wrestle with this passage in which Paul seems to speak of them as the same thing. He’s saying he was caught up into Paradise—he was caught up into heaven. You could say, Well, maybe there are these divisions or levels of heaven. A source I mentioned earlier, the Books of Enoch, even outlines certain levels of heaven.⁵ But it’s pretty hard to prove that idea, and it conflicts with passages like this one about Paul.

What I think Paul is saying in this passage about going to the third heaven is this: The first heaven refers to the sky that we see outside each day (sometimes referred to as “the heavens” in Scripture); above that is the second heaven, which refers to outer space—the planets, stars, and things of that nature; then above that would be the third heaven, referring to the place where God dwells. So, he’s saying that he was called up into the place where God dwells.

[Paul is] saying that he was called up into the place where God dwells.

For everyone who thinks they have this intermediary state figured out—that they know what heaven is like—the apostle Paul himself says he experienced something like it. He calls it by multiple names, and he doesn’t know whether he was embodied, and he is either unwilling or unable to talk about it! So we would do well to heed his example—to be wary of taking too strong a position on exactly what this is, and wary of anyone who claims something like, “I went to heaven; let me tell you about it.” (To this, you might say, “I know of a man who went there, and he was either unable or unwilling to give details about his experience because, he said, there are things about it that couldn’t be said/repeated.”)

[Be] wary of anyone who claims something like, “I went to heaven; let me tell you about it.”

The Rich Man and Lazarus

With that background, let’s turn to our main passage in Luke 16. Jesus tells this story:

Now there was a rich man, and he regularly dressed in purple and fine linen, joyously living in splendor every day. And a poor man named Lazarus was laid at his gate, covered with sores, and longing to be fed with the crumbs which were falling from the rich man’s table; besides, even the dogs were coming and licking his sores. Now the poor man died and was carried away by the angels to Abraham’s bosom;⁶ and the rich man also died and was buried. In Hades he [the rich man] lifted up his eyes, being in torment, and saw Abraham far away and Lazarus in his bosom.⁷ And he [rich man] cried out and said, “Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus so that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and cool off my tongue, for I am in agony in this flame.” But Abraham said, “Child, remember that during your life you received your good things, and likewise Lazarus bad things; but now he is being comforted here, and you are in agony. And besides all this, between us and you there is a great chasm fixed, so that those who wish to come over from here to you will not be able, and that none may cross over from there to us.” And he said, “Then I beg you, father, that you send him to my father’s house—for I have five brothers—in order that he may warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.” But Abraham said, “They have Moses and the Prophets; let them hear them.” But he said, “No, father Abraham, but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent!” But he said to him, “If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be persuaded even if someone rises from the dead.” (Luke 16:19–31)

A Parabolic Story

How do we classify this story? Some say it is a parable; others say Jesus is telling of actual events. I think it’s a parable; I think it has the significant markers necessary for recognizing parables. A chief marker is the beginning of this story: “… there was a rich man” is the same phrase used at the beginning of this chapter in Luke in which Jesus is teaching and says, “There was a rich man …” (16:1). This story also begins very much like Nathan’s parable to David: “There were two men in one city, the one rich and the other poor …”⁸

I don’t want my opinion on this matter to distract. Some view parables with such exactness that every part of the parable formula must be present to call it a parable; I’d be willing to modify my characterization of the story and call it, at the least, “parabolic” if not a parable. If the term parable still bothers you, you can use the term “illustration” for the story.

Why do some claim it is not a parable? Most who argue for the actuality of this account will cite that a man’s name was used: “Lazarus.” I think that’s insufficient evidence to demand that this is a real story. Here are some possibilities why the man is given a specific name—beginning with two less-certain reasons:

Perhaps there was a well-known beggar by this name; therefore Jesus pulls this name to give the story practical punch.
Though the Lazarus of this story is not the same Lazarus Jesus raised from the dead in Bethany, this story, by most accounts, comes (chronologically) right before Jesus raises a real man name Lazarus from the dead.⁹ If this parable is told beforehand, it’s a seed planted in the minds of those who would witness or hear about that miracle. Some would believe in Jesus as a result of that miracle; but the Pharisees, who (as we’ll see in a moment) are the ones listening to this story, react to Lazarus’s being raised in a very bad way: by plotting to kill Jesus.
A more certain reason he is given a name is that the meaning of the name Lazarus is “God has helped.” That’s significant because the thrust of this story is about a man who no one helped, and especially not the one who could have easily helped—the rich man. But in the end, God has helped.
If the exact name has no significance, having a name at all does carry weight. In the story, the rich man is not named. By giving the poor man a name, there’s this idea that the rich man has been forgotten while the name of the poor man is not forgotten—and will not be forgotten by God; nor will this poor man’s life be lost to the ages just because of his circumstances on earth. That’s what parables do: flip the expected world order. Normally, it’s the rich who have fame and are remembered, but Jesus says, “Not in this story.”

Parables … flip the expected world order. Normally, it’s the rich who have fame and are remembered, but Jesus says, “Not in this story.”

The Point of the Story

Whether you classify the story as a parable or reality leaves unclarified a more controversial debate: Does the story represent (approximate) the actual state of existence in the afterlife? Is there a place called “Abraham’s bosom” (meaning a place of nearness to Abraham)—a place that is equivalent to Paradise, or what we might call a pleasure garden? Is there, as we see in the story of Luke 16, a physical divide between this place of rest and another place of torment—a divide of a distance that is far away but also seemingly close enough for communication?

Here’s my take on these questions about this story. And I’ll warn you it’s a controversial take: I don’t think this story authoritatively communicates what the afterlife is like or was like at this time.

I don’t think this story authoritatively communicates what the afterlife is like or was like at this time.

I don’t want to be irreverent, and I certainly don’t want you to hear me taking a low view of what the Scripture says. But I don’t think that is the point of this passage. Instead, it reads to me something like the common cultural meme we use to talk about the afterlife—we talk about “getting to the pearly gates and meeting St. Peter.” It’s a way of talking about a subject that lends both humor and weight. Most of us don’t imagine that we’ll actually arrive at heaven and see pearly gates and the apostle Peter standing nearby; it’s just an expression to reference something.

I saw where one writer called it “eschatological comedy.”¹⁰

Other cultures have similar stories—and that’s a piece of the evidence of what’s happening with this passage. For example, Egypt had a story about a rich man and a poor man, and it contrasted their funeral processions: one with pomp and riches and the other without. In the afterlife, these roles were switched, and the poor, unheralded man was given the rich man’s clothes.

Judaism also has a story in the Talmud about a rich man and a poor student of the Torah with details that are strikingly similar to the biblical account. The rich man is thirsty and is not able to find refreshment from the water.¹¹ Specifically, like the story in Luke, the rich man is by the river and he wants water on his tongue, but he can’t reach it. Also, of interest, in that story, it is the rich man who is given the name, not the poor man. It would be like Jesus to take this popular cultural story and change key elements for emphasis.

If this is a real or actual accounting of the afterlife, we’ve got some issues to wrestle with (not insurmountable issues, but significant). One reason to consider it a non-real account is the presence of bodies and bodily harm or pleasure. Some hold that we do have a body in the next stage, and they believe it’s just a “holding body” until we get our resurrection body. Christians will differ on this, but the whole point of the resurrection of the dead is to redeem the body that we have. There’s a longing for that moment, because it hasn’t happened yet. I don’t think we put on one set of “clothes” after we die and then shed those to then put on a different set.

Also, in this story, the requests are a bit silly: put some water on your finger and put it on my tongue. This is hyperbolic/exaggerated language. If I’m in that position, and it’s hot, I’m going to ask for a bucket, not a fingertip of water. You can see how the elements of the story, then, lend themselves to it being a parable—or at least parabolic.

Lessons from the Story

Whether it’s a factual or figurative story, there are still spiritual lessons to be gained. We can and should arrive at those lessons even if we differ on the story’s nature.

Let’s consider some of the important questions about judgment that are raised by this story.

Question #1: How Does One Receive Righteous Status or Reward?

I’ve thought a lot about this story over the past few years, and Lazarus does absolutely nothing to deserve his place. A poor beggar, he sits at the gate—imagine what that situation does not only to his body but to the state of his mind. The gospel of God is that His grace is free—it’s not worked for.

Question #2: What Will Judgment Be Like?

We can glean from this story that judgment begins upon death; there is judgment while awaiting judgment to come. There’s a popular acceptance, and I think it’s true (based on this passage and others), that Hades is a place of torment. Luke 16:23 describes Hades as “a place of torment.” Two verses later, the text says that Lazarus is in a place of comfort (v. 25) while the rich man is in “agony.” Furthermore, the “pitiful” Lazarus, now comforted, hasn’t simply found a place of escape; it’s not simply that all that bad stuff in his life is over with. He now has an audience with Abraham—the father of the nation of Israel; he’s sitting in a place of honor.

From this story, we also see the fixed nature to judgment, for better or for worse. There comes a point in time when the judgment is fixed, and you can’t change it.

Question #3: Does God Care If We Die? (Does He Care When Our Loved Ones Die?)

This story presents the death of the righteous as an event involving the presence of God (Luke 16:22). The poor man died, and he was carried away by an angelic escort. There’s a terseness to the description of the rich man’s burial; it simply says he died and was buried. Again this is opposite of the popular cultural stories, in which the rich man has all the pomp and circumstance regarding his funeral.

Question #4: What Sort of Continuity or Discontinuity Is Present in the Afterlife?

In the story, both men are embodied and experience pain or pleasure in relation to the body.

There’s some recognition of those we knew in life and of those we didn’t know. The rich man recognizes Lazarus, but he’s also able to say, “Yep, that’s Abraham” (whom he never knew personally in this life).

It’s interesting to ponder the laws of reality in the next life. Those laws (if we can call them that) seem different. They’re more like in fairy tales. Hades and Abraham’s bosom are “far away” from each other (v. 23), separated by “a great chasm” (v. 26), and yet they are close enough for communication (vv. 23–26).

In Hades, the rich man has retained his poor qualities; he has not been redeemed: he still treats Lazarus like a servant, asking him to fetch something for him (v. 24).

There is an awareness/remembrance of that which happened on earth. Abraham knows something about Lazarus’s life (v. 25)

From this story, we can see, too, how it is that God will judge those who had the odds stacked against them in this life—or whose lives were (from a human perspective) cut short. There will be no big “oops” in heaven. The goodness of God will rule.

In short, heaven was aware of Lazarus during his life of pain. Abraham essentially says, “We know what happened to Lazarus.” Sometimes we think heaven doesn’t care—that in this life of pain, our difficulties aren’t seen. They are—He is the God who sees.

Heaven was aware of Lazarus during his life of pain

Clarification by Context

Let’s clarify this story a bit by context. You always have to do that with parables (even then, parables can be confusing—they’re not as understandable as they may initially appear on the surface).

This isn’t just an odd story that Jesus happens to throw into the mix one day. The story relates to what He’d been saying previously.

The story [of the rich man and Lazarus] relates to what He’d been saying previously.

Jesus has been speaking on these subjects:

Reaching out to sinners or the “otherwise despised.” A beggar at the gate (like Lazarus) who kept only the company of dogs would definitely have been despised. Go back to Luke 15 to remind yourself of the kind of audience Jesus was attracting: “all the tax collectors and the sinners were coming near Him to listen to Him” (v. 1). Luke tells us how the religious elite reacted to this: “Both the Pharisees and the scribes began to grumble, saying, ‘This man receives sinners and eats with them’” (v. 2). Jesus was hanging out with the kinds of people the Pharisees shunned.
Lost things. This story comes in the context of the following parables: the lost sheep (15:4–7); the lost coin (15:8–10); the prodigal son, which could be called the parable of the lost son (15:11–32); and the unrighteous steward, which could be titled the parable of the lost position—because a man loses his job at the beginning of the story (16:1–13).
God’s joy over repentance. The response of heaven to a sinner repenting is this: “I tell you that in the same way, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance” (Luke 15:7). Verse 10 (the end of the parable of the lost coin) repeats the same idea: “In the same way, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” The father’s reaction in the parable of the prodigal (lost) son is likewise joyous (v. 32).
A contrast between man’s attitude toward things and man’s attitude toward people. In the story of the rich man and Lazarus, we see a contrast in attitude toward wealth versus attitude toward the beggar at the gate. In the preceding parables, we see excitement over finding a sheep or a coin (You can almost hear it: “Hey friends, come to my house, and let’s party—the coin was found!”). In the parable of the prodigal/lost son, we see the older son’s displeasure at what was given to the prodigal and the loss of wealth—so much wasted on this brother of his!
Money and its use. We have, in the surrounding parables, sheep—the shepherd’s commodity; lost coins; and the prodigal’s inheritance. The unrighteous steward (who lost his position) was all about collecting money, and then Jesus sticks it to the Pharisees, who had been listening to all these things. He characterizes them as “lovers of money” (16:14). Furthermore, Jesus calls the Pharisees people who have rejected “true riches” (v. 11)—and then tells a parable about the rejection of true riches.

Let’s not be guilty of the same.

The Punch Line

A lot has been said to this point about the afterlife (Paradise, Hades, etc.); but here comes the punch line to which we really need to pay attention:

And [Jesus] said, “Then I beg you, father, that you send him to my father’s house—for I have five brothers—in order that he may warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.” But Abraham said, “They have Moses and the Prophets; let them hear them.” But he said, “No, father Abraham, but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent!” But he said to him, “If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be persuaded even if someone rises from the dead.” (Luke 16:27–31)

In the end, the emphasis is not on a man separated from his riches, but a man separated from his father.

In the end, the emphasis is not on a man separated from his riches, but a man separated from his father.

He can’t be with Father Abraham. He can’t be back in the house of his earthly father. He has a life excluded from his heavenly Father and no chance to appeal. The father of his nation, Abraham, cannot help him. His earthly father and all the riches of his family did not help him.

Who could help this man?

We have the reminder in the poor man’s name: Lazarus, whose name means “God helps.” What we learn is that God provided all along what the man needed. He provided the riches of Scripture. He provided Moses and the prophets.

God provided all along what the man needed.

Conclusion

Only Luke tells this story of the rich man and Lazarus. In our study on the resurrection, you may remember that Luke’s grand climax is the story of the road to Emmaus in Luke 24.¹² The travelers, though there were reports of the resurrected Christ, did not fully embrace this idea that a Man had risen from the dead. But Christ, even in His resurrected form, didn’t appear initially and say, “Look, boys, it’s Me!” Scripture teaches, “Then beginning with Moses and with all the prophets, He explained to them the things concerning Himself in all the Scriptures” (Luke 24:27). The text goes on to say that they concluded, after He vanishes before their eyes, “Were not our hearts burning within us while He was speaking to us on the road, while He was explaining the Scriptures to us?’” (v. 32)

The rich man in Jesus’s parable experienced the agony of burning flame because he did not embrace the opportunity to have his heart burning aflame by the light of Scripture. Our time in studying resurrection from the dead has been toward this end: What do the Scriptures say?

The rich man in Jesus’s parable experienced the agony of burning flame because he did not embrace the opportunity to have his heart burning aflame by the light of Scripture.

Don’t lose sight of the larger series we’ve been in for nearly two years now: “Elementary Principles of the Oracles of God.” What are oracles? They’re words from God—Scripture.

We live as those who are the beneficiaries of both the full message of God’s Word and the miracle of resurrection from the dead. We are those who, in the words of Peter, “have been born again not of seed which is perishable but imperishable, that is, through the living and enduring word of God.”¹³

The flesh will fail and fade. The word of the Lord endures forever. And we who believe that word will therefore live forever. It’s a word that will redeem even the flesh when we experience the resurrection from the dead.

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