Tragedy—ish?
By Anthony Casperson
7-19-25

A number of stories utilize the trope of a reversal of fortunes. The person who has a difficult life has some amazing moment lead to them gaining all of the things they never knew they were missing. Or the character thinks they have a perfect life, only for some tragedy to befall them which leaves them losing every good thing they ever had.

I find it interesting that in current western culture, our stories are likely to allow the character involved in the first version of this trope to keep most, if not all, of their reversed fortune. They might need to learn that there are still good aspects of their old life to keep, but mostly, the reversal is as permanent as it can be.

However, modern characters from the second version of the trope fail to follow the tragic story arc to its classical end. In older tellings of tragic tales, the reversal of fortune is a part of the character’s downfall. One step in breaking the character completely, as the story brings catharsis to the audience viewing this negative character’s ultimate end.

Our currently preferred ending to this type of story leaves the character learning from their mistakes, but also finding some version of their previous good. Sure, it’s a lesser version of what they once had, but the ultimate ending is still happy.

Personally, I wonder if this preference for a little upward ending in an otherwise downward story trajectory is because we kinda hope that there’s a high chance of a good ending for our lives, as long as we have a moment of clarity. Even if it’s two seconds before the end of the story. We hope for a happy ending, should we ever find our fortunes have had a reversal.

We fail to recognize that sometimes a reversal from a positive life experience to a negative one is a permanent consequence of our everyday actions.

Although, the funny thing about me lamenting our current tendencies of giving a happy ending to a tragic character is that there’s an ancient parallel of this week’s parable that differs from Jesus’ telling which changes the end in this very method. It’s an ancient version of what we tend to prefer in our own stories today.

Since the rabbinical version of the story is of an unknown date, we’re not sure if Jesus purposefully took an older story and changed the ending. Or if rabbis later took Jesus’ parable and modified the ending to suit their purposes. But either way, it is in the tragic end of one character in the story where Jesus’ greatest point of the parable is found. And when we try to give it the rabbinical ending, according to our modern tastes, we miss Jesus’ whole point.

This week’s parable that Jesus taught, which reveals mysteries of the kingdom, comes from Luke 16:19-31. Very little time has passed since the passage of last week’s parable, which is fitting, considering the fact that Jesus had just talked about using the resources of this world for the purposes of eternity. We’d seen him say that no person can serve two masters. Thus, we should focus on serving God instead of serving the pursuit of money.

And so, when Jesus begins to tell a story featuring a rich man, we can already tell that some reversal of fortune is likely heading his way. If he had gained those riches through the ungodly pursuit of worldly resources, then he’d failed to serve God. And failure to serve God has a tendency of leaning toward tragedy.

Jesus’ description of the rich man is brief, but proves his vast wealth. A man draped in the finest of cloth, which has been dyed in a very difficult to obtain color. And when Jesus says that the rich man feasted “sumptuously,” that word comes from a word family that means “brightly.” (We actually get the word “lamp” from this family of words.) Thus, it’s like his feasts were so ostentatious that even a person walking by was blinded by its lavish nature.

Contrasted with the rich man comes a poor beggar named Lazarus. And unlike the rich man who was so briefly described that Jesus didn’t even provide him a name, this beggar has multiple descriptors to showcase his difficult life.

Lazarus seems to have been physically unable to walk, because verse 20 tells us that he was placed at the gate of the rich man. The Greek literally says he was thrown toward the gate, so that might just say something about how little the people helping him were toward this beggar. But regardless, Lazarus found himself just outside of the radius of the rich man’s feasts.

He reached out for any crumbs, scraps, and leftovers from the feast. The half-eaten meat with too much gristle would be a fine dining experience to him. And even in that, he had to fight with the feral dogs that knew of the same spot where the rich man threw his garbage. But even if there wasn’t much to gain for the day, those mongrels still found something to enjoy. They would lick at Lazarus’s wounds, stinging his open sores with their germ-infested tongues.

But one day, Lazarus wasn’t thrown to the rich man’s gate. He’d died. Probably forgotten. And left as nothing but meat for the dogs who’d long enjoyed the taste of his flesh. However, for the parable’s purpose, we see the reversal of fortune in how Lazarus is treated in the afterlife.

Verse 22 shows us that Lazarus was carried, not by careless people who would throw him, but by the very angels of God. And he wouldn’t be left on the fringe of this feast. No, Lazarus was seated in the place of honor at this feast. The greatest guest in a gathering during the time of Jesus would recline at one specific side of the host. And this location is what is meant when some translations say that Lazarus was placed at Abraham’s bosom. It’s the place of highest honor for any guest at the feast.

So Lazarus found himself with a reversal of fortune from a terrible existence in his earthly life, to the most honored spot in the afterlife. From mongrel begging at the fringe of a feast, to most special guest at the table.

However, Jesus tells us that the rich man wasn’t so fortunate. He’d had his last feast, because he too had died. But the reversal of his fortunes left him in torment. Again, the descriptors of the rich man are few, but powerfully telling. His suffering nearly equal to the frivolous blindness he’d had in life.

But similar to how Lazarus had been left at the fringe of the rich man’s feasts, and begged for the smallest scraps, the rich man now finds himself across a great chasm from the feast where Lazarus was the guest of honor. And the rich man begs for some small favor of a scrap. A single drop of refreshing water from Lazarus’s fingertip.

The rich man proves that he knew enough about Lazarus to know his name and recognize him by sight. And might’ve even remembered throwing the poor man something every once in a while. But that knowledge and barest hint of help had meant very little for the general direction of the rich man’s life.

While the rich man asked for a small favor, it was denied by Abraham. Not out of a mean spirit, but because the chasm between the two sides of the place where the dead found themselves was too great. Too far for any to travel from one to the other. Once the person found themselves judged and placed on their side, there was never going to be travel to the other side. Their fate was sealed. The reversal of fortunes was irreversible.

This is where a modern telling of this story would want the rich man to have a chance. Let him realize the error of his life’s ways. Find some way to work off the debt of his sins and be able to reach the good place. Eventually.

But the tragedy of some people’s lives is that they will find out the error of their ways too late.

And it’s not like people don’t have the opportunity to figure out their error in this life. Jesus’ parable even speaks to this point. In verses 27-28, we see the rich man then beg Abraham to send Lazarus back from the dead to tell the rich man’s brothers the truth about this wretched place. The rich man wanted Lazarus to play Robert Marley in A Christmas Carol for his brothers’ Scrooge.

However, Abraham again denies this request. He says that the brothers have the Mosaic Law and the prophets. Everything that’s necessary for the brothers to understand how to gain access to the good afterlife is found in those words.

And it’s here where Jesus’ oft-used phrase of “let them hear” comes into play. Whoever has ears to hear, let them hear. Don’t deafen yourself to the truth of the Kingdom of God. Don’t blind yourself to the revealed mystery right in front of you. The truth has been revealed, if only we’re willing to listen and look for it. If we’re not too busy blinding ourselves with our own lavish pursuit of this world’s resources.

Lazarus didn’t get to be the guest of honor at Abraham’s feast because he’d suffered so much in his earthly existence. No, the reversal of fortune had nothing to do with how sorry God felt for him. Or how good his actions had been in this life, either. It was because Lazarus had witnessed the mystery of God’s kingdom and accepted it.

He’d chosen to serve God.

And on the other side of the equation, the rich man didn’t go to a tortuous afterlife because he was rich. It’s not like there’s some cosmic counterbalance that sends people to hell just because they had it too good in this life. Rather, he’d allowed his pursuit of riches become his god. Money had become his master. And so, he couldn’t serve God. Thus, he refused to listen to the truth of the kingdom. He didn’t hear, and thus was sent to eternal torment without a chance to eventually gain a happy ending.

The good news for those of us listening to Jesus’ parable is that it’s not too late for us. The words of Abraham call us to hear. To witness the revealed mystery of the kingdom that we already have in the word of God. To witness the truth of who will head to the feast in honor, and who will suffer across the chasm.

There’s something we can do in the present to affect that outcome before it’s too late.

But there are some for whom even that evidence will be insufficient to lead them to serve God rather than their pursuit of this world’s resources. Jesus’ parable tells us that some won’t even believe should a man rise from the dead. Which is exactly what Jesus did. And many today still refuse to change their minds and serve God.

Whoever has ears to hear, let them hear the revealed mystery of the kingdom. Whether it’s to a reversal of fortune, or to a continuation of the same fate, there will be a point when it’s too late to choose otherwise. Let the truth given from God about how to have proper relationship with him be enough. Let us serve God. Because a man did rise from the dead to show us that truth.

And if that’s not enough for us, then nothing else will…until the truth of an actually tragic ending hits us without a chance to change.