HeartBeat September 28th

if we simply took the time to know someone’s name.

Week beginning Sunday 14th of September
Lectionary Reading: Luke 16:19–end


Seeing by Name : Crossing the Chasm


Opening Prayer

God of mercy and truth,you call each of us by name,
and you see what the world often overlooks.
You see the Lazaruses at our gates,
the ones passed by,
the ones forgotten,
the ones whose names are written on your heart.
As we gather around your Word today,
open our eyes where they have grown blind,
open our ears where they have been deaf,
and open our hearts where they have been closed.
Help us to see as you see,
to love as you love,
and to be with those
whom the world has made invisible.
Through Christ, who crossed every chasm
to be with us and for us.
Amen.

Icebreaker

When was the last time it meant something to you that someone remembered your name?
How did it make you feel?

Listening to the Text: Luke 16:19

First Reading:
Listen to text –  read slowly.
Silent reflective time

Second Reading of same text :
Hear it again, perhaps in a different voice or translation.

Prompt
What word, phrase, or image stood out to you this time? Why do you think it caught your attention?

Wonderings (for group reflection)

  • I wonder how good we are at seeing people not just as “faces” but as persons with names
  • I wonder why Jesus gives the poor man a name (Lazarus) but leaves the rich man nameless
  • I wonder what “the great chasm” looks like in our world today — where are the gates that separate people
  • I wonder what it feels like to be invisible in society — or to make someone else invisible

Going Deeper into the text

The Reversal of Fortunes

Luke’s Gospel again reminds us of God’s great reversals. The one who seemed to have everything ends up nameless and forgotten, while the beggar who seemed to have nothing is remembered, comforted, and held in Abraham’s arms. God’s kingdom does not measure worth in the way the world does. Status and success do not guarantee honour before God; it is often the lowly, the overlooked, and the poor who are lifted up.

I wonder where we see this great reversal happening in our world today, and how it challenges the values we hold most dearly?

The Power of Naming

Lazarus is the only person in any of Jesus’ parables who is given a name. His name means “God helps.” To be named is to be seen, to have dignity, to be recognised as a person rather than a problem. Lazarus is remembered, while the rich man’s wealth consumes his identity and leaves him nameless. In God’s economy, it is not possessions or power that secure our identity, but belovedness and recognition.

I wonder why names matter so deeply, and who are the people we walk past without ever learning their names?

The Sin of Neglect

The rich man is never described as violent or cruel; his sin lies in neglect. He steps over Lazarus day after day, indifferent to his suffering. His failure is omission, blindness, the refusal to notice. And in death we learn something chilling: he knows Lazarus’s name. He could have seen him all along, but chose not to. To ignore the suffering at our gates is to choose not to see.

I wonder where we might be guilty of ignoring rather than outright harming, and what that kind of neglect looks like in our own context?

The Chasm

The “great chasm” in the parable is not only an image of the afterlife; it is a symbol of the gap already created between rich and poor, insider and outsider. In life, the gate separated the feasting of the rich man from the hunger of Lazarus. In death, the same divide becomes permanent. The parable warns us that what we normalise in life may shape eternity.

I wonder what the gates or chasms are in our communities today, and who we might find waiting on the other side of them?

Being With – HeartEdge

Sam Wells suggests that the real failure of the rich man was not simply withholding food, but withholding relationship. Lazarus lay at his very doorstep, longing not only for crumbs but for recognition of his humanity. God in Christ shows us another way: the way of being with. In Jesus, God crosses the ultimate chasm between divinity and humanity, not to do to us or for us, but to be with us. Heaven is the fullness of that communion; hell is isolation, the refusal of relationship.

I wonder what it would mean for us to move from helpingpeople to truly being with them, and how that shift might change the way we live as church and as neighbours?

Monologue 1: The Homeless Person

I sit near the back, because that feels safest. The hymn book’s heavy in my hands, but it’s good to be holding something that belongs here, not out of place like me. I can smell myself and I wonder if others can too. My coat hasn’t been washed in weeks.

Then I hear the reading. A rich man feasting every day, and a beggar at his gate. A man with sores, ignored, invisible. That’s me, isn’t it? I know what it is to sit outside gates, hoping someone might notice. I’ve had people step over me like I’m a bag of rubbish.

But then Jesus gives the beggar a name. Lazarus. He matters. He’s remembered. God saw him. I wonder… could God see me, too? Could God call me by name, when everyone else looks away?

It hurts a bit, this story. Hurts, because I know how many rich men there are, driving past me in their cars, never even catching my eye. But it comforts me too, because it says I am not forgotten. Even if I’m nameless to most, I am not nameless to God.

I wonder if the people in this church know that. I wonder if they see Lazarus when they look at me.

Monologue 2: The Welcomer

I stood at the door this morning with my usual smile, handing out hymn books. And then I saw him. He looked worn out, clothes torn, hair matted. For a second, I hesitated. I thought, will he stay through the service? Will people mind?

I gave him a hymn book, smiled, and said “welcome.” I hope I sounded like I meant it. But inside, I felt awkward. Unsure.

And then came the gospel reading. The rich man, the beggar at the gate, the one everyone stepped over. I felt my cheeks burn. Was I any different, standing at the church door, weighing this man up, wondering if he belonged here?

The reading hit me harder than usual today. Because Lazarus had a name. God knew him, even when nobody else cared. And I realised: I don’t know this man’s name. I never asked. I welcomed him with a smile, but I didn’t cross the gate.

It makes me uneasy, this parable. What if our church door is someone’s gate? What if I’ve kept it shut without even realising?

I think next week, if he comes back, I’ll try to learn his name….and also share my name with him

Challenging Wonderings

  • I wonder what difference it might make, to us and to them, if we took the time simply to know someone’s name.
  • I wonder whether our church doors have ever become gates – keeping Lazarus outside –  and what it would take for us to open them wide.
  • I wonder if, when God looks at us, God sees the rich man or Lazarus  –  and what that question stirs in you today.

Earthed Connections

Encourage the group to name real-world parallels:

  • News reports often speak of numbers killed in conflicts. What if we heard every child’s name? How would that change how we respond? (e.g. the woman prayerfully writing the names of children killed in Gaza and Israel.)
  • Novels like Les Misérables or The Grapes of Wrath show how naming the poor restores dignity. Who are today’s “Lazaruses” in our streets, schools, or parishes?
  • Food banks, refugee shelters, hospital wards, and checkout counters are full of people often treated as invisible. How can we learn names, listen to stories, and “be with” them?

Sharing insights

with worship leader and the Preacher

Ask each person

  • What photo would help illustrate something that you are taking away from this session today?
  • What one insight, image, or real-life example from our conversation today do you think would help the preacher or worship leader on Sunday?
  • Gather these insights. Nominate someone to pass them on, or collect them for prayer in the service.

Closing Prayer

God of Lazarus,
you see the poor and call them by name.
Open our eyes to see those at our gates,
open our hearts to cross the chasms of indifference,
and open our lives to be with those whom the world forgets.
Amen.


PDF

You can download the printable bible study here
and the Prayer of Lament here

Photo by Chuttersnap on Unsplash

Share:

Other HeartBeats

“How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me?”
“God comes to the wilderness precisely because it is wilderness.”
Healing, justice, reconciliation, the renewal of all things.
“Father, forgive them…”
“You will not fear the terror of the night.”
Scroll to Top