Faith Working in Love
Faith working in Love
Luke 16:19-31 T Trinity 1
INI
Outward works which lack love don’t come from faith. And God isn’t impressed with a loveless religion. In fact, He despises it.
Ex opere operato is a term that Lutherans have used to describe a Catholic view of the Sacraments: as long as you are baptized and receive the Lord’s Supper, it doesn’t matter what you believe or how you live! Just do the right things, and God will be happy with you. But God won’t be fooled. Such an attitude turns faith into superstition.
This isn’t just a medieval problem, but an ancient one.
The Old Testament Israelites fell into the same trap. They sacrificed bulls, goats, sheep, and birds just as the Lord had told them to. But they missed the entire point of the sacrifice. Sacrifices aren’t magic. They were meant to evoke repentance. It’s the bloody reminder that sin deserves death.
However, they didn’t repent. Their hearts remained distant from God. They sacrificed… but they knew they were going to walk right back into sin. This led God to say through the prophet Hosea (6:6) – “
For I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings.”
Their actions looked holy, but they were hollow. God despised their empty actions. They thought they were being righteous. But they were just being stubborn.
It’s no different than what happens in many congregations today. People come to church, take the Lord’s Supper, confess the ‘oneness’ of the church, say all the right words of the liturgy… and they go home angry and upset with a brother or sister in Christ because of a dispute 5 years ago. They come to receive the peace of Christ…. Yet peace with each other is missing. That’s not love. That’s not faith. That’s spiritual superstition….
It’s possible to outwardly do all the right things – show up, commune, sing hymns, give offering, etc. – but have our hearts far from God. The Israelites tossed their offerings on the altar and assumed God would be pleased and they could get their mercy and continue on with their bitterness. But such sacrifices are offensive to God.
By contrast, Abraham shows us what true righteousness, a right sacrifice, looks like: it begins by believing the promises of God. But that belief doesn’t stay idle – it is lived out in obedient love to the Word of God.
Though righteousness isn’t earned, it’s given by God when one believes and lives according to His word. That was the problem with the rich man in the parable, whom Jesus likens to the Pharisees. He was outwardly pious, but inwardly empty. He had it all! He was rich. He wore purple and fine linen, which most likely meant that he was adored and respected by the people. Likely, he was an outwardly moral man. He was pious in the sense that when he died, he called Abraham his Father, indicating he was a pious Jew. He knew the words to say, but perhaps he didn’t think very deeply about the words he said.
Outwardly, this man was blessed by God. He had everything he needed in this life. But inwardly? He had no righteousness. He was bankrupt. His faith was false. Why? Because he lacked love. Our epistle from 1 John 4:20 spells it out – “If anyone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen.” The rich man saw Lazarus, who was sick, starving, and dying. And yet, the rich man stepped over him to go to his feast. The rich man broke the law of love, the Golden rule. He didn’t treat Lazarus as he would want to be treated. That failure exposed his false faith.
After his death, the rich man’s false faith becomes fully exposed. Even in eternal torment, he doesn’t trust the Word of God. He begged Abraham to send Lazarus back to earth to warn his brothers about the fate that awaited them, as if the Word of God alone isn’t enough to bring them to repentance. But Abraham said, “They have Moses and the Prophets; let them hear them.” So, the rich man believed that miracles were more powerful than Scripture. That shows his unbelief towards the Word of God. And if a man doesn’t believe the Word, he cannot have the righteousness required for salvation.
That Word had already told him what God expects: repentance and a life lived in love. Not only avoiding evil—“you shall not murder”—but actively doing good, as Luther explains: “help and support our neighbor in every physical need.” The Ten Commandments don’t just forbid sin; they also call us to love, to serve, to give. But the rich man didn’t walk in that way. He didn’t help Lazarus, even though he saw him every day. He didn’t think the Word was enough to guide him in the Christian life. He didn’t think the Word had power. He needed signs and wonders, not promises. That’s why he was condemned. Outwardly, his life looked blessed. But inwardly, he didn’t trust God, or His Word, and he didn’t love his neighbor.
But on the flipside, let’s look at Lazarus. The beautiful thing is that we don’t know much about him. He’s poor. He’s hungry. He’s covered in nasty sores. He died and went to heaven. We don’t know if he did any good works in his life. We don’t know if he loved anyone. But one peculiar thing about him is that Jesus gives this fictional man the name Lazarus, which means “God has helped.” That’s the point. Lazarus had nothing… except God. And that was enough. This righteousness didn’t come from outward signs of blessing, but from trust – a faith that clung to God even when he was left with nothing. Outwardly, he was despised. But inwardly, he was counted as righteous.
We don’t come to church to please God by taking the Lord’s Supper, remembering our baptisms by making the sign of the cross, sitting through a sermon while talking to the person in the pew next to us. None of those things please God if they’re done without faith working through love.
God isn’t honored by empty rituals. But He is pleased when those gifts are received with hearts that love Him and trust His Word. As Jesus says, “Whoever loves me keeps my word (John 14:23).”Whoever comes to God because they truly love Him, Jesus says “My Father will love such a one, and we will make our home with Him.”
That was the rich man’s problem. He didn’t love his neighbor. He didn’t truly love God. He didn’t obey God’s Word. His outward acts were an empty shell. It looked good from the outside but inwardly were vain. So, when He died, he didn’t dwell with God. He was eternally separated from the one he pretended to worship.
Jesus told us this parable. But not just for the sake of warning us about the consequences of false outward worship. He tells us this to save us. He became like Lazarus – despised by men, rejected and casted out. His bloody wounds were on display for all to see – and he invites us to be like the dogs who are nourished by his wounds. Through His earthly humility, we receive eternal comfort.
Because of Jesus, even loveless sinners can be forgiven. We can even be forgiven of the times when we treat our fellow brothers and sisters in Christ with disrespect and lovelessness. Through the work of the Holy Spirit, God moves our hearts towards a new love. He gives His Word to not just warn us, but to raise us from the dead.
So, repent of your sins and lovelessness. Believe the Gospel. Because the God who desires mercy, not sacrifice, has had mercy on you. He doesn’t want your vain outward actions, he wants your love, devotion, and obedience. And by grace, you’re given Christ’s righteousness by faith.
INI
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