Blog

Earlier this year, as I was teaching the Parable of the Two Sons, one of my youth group students asked me about hell.

Hell is a concept that is ingrained in our culture. Even people who are not Christians, or who are not religious at all, have an idea of what “hell” means. They typically imagine a dark place full of fire. People are screaming and in pain, and the devil is there.

When I was a teenager, I had a dream. In this dream, Jesus came back and took everyone to heaven. Heaven in my dream was a kind of space station, brightly lit with pure white lights. But as I stood in line to be judged, I was one of those God told, “Depart from Me, I never knew you.” And I was thrown out of heaven and into hell.

But in this dream, hell was not a dark pit full of fire. Instead, it was a second level of the space station, far below the level of heaven. Instead of being well-lit, it was very dark. The only light came from gloomy red emergency lights. There were windows looking out into space where you could see the heavenly space station, but there was no way to get back up to it.

I know many other Christians who’ve had nightmares about hell. The unfortunate thing is that the way we’re often taught about hell is filled with such intense warning and ferocity that it strikes fear into us, especially when we hear about it from an early age.

We fall into a cycle of panic, wondering if we’re condemned to hell. Even if we’ve believed in Jesus, we fear we have not believed hard enough or truly enough.

I’m not saying we should never talk about hell, but following Jesus should never be done out of fear. It should be a response made out of love.

Jesus speaks about hell in a variety of contexts. The word “hell” did not exist in the Greek or Hebrew languages. We use the English word “hell” to describe several different concepts discussed in Scripture.

In the Old Testament, the word often translated in relation to the realm of the dead is “Sheol.” It refers to the grave or the place of the dead. The Old Testament often presents our state of being in terms of “life,” which can contextually be elaborated into eternal life, or “the grave.”

Arriving at the New Testament, we find several other words that wind up translated as “hell” in English.

“Hades” is the first. If that sounds familiar, it’s probably because you’ve interacted with some form of Greek mythology. “Hades” is commonly used as the name for the god of the underworld. However, it can also mean the underworld itself. And for the Jews of the New Testament period, that was how it came to be used. “Hades” was not only understood as a place for the unbelieving dead; it could refer more broadly to the realm of the dead.

The other Greek words often rendered as “hell” in English are “Gehenna” and “Tartarus.”

Gehenna is most often used by Jesus when speaking about judgment and separation from God. The word refers back to the real Valley of Hinnom, a place associated in the Old Testament with horrific practices, including child sacrifice. It became a powerful image of wickedness and judgment. In Matthew 25:41, Jesus speaks of the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.

Tartarus, another Greek concept, is used only once in the New Testament. In Greek mythology, it was the place where the Titans—ancient enemies of the gods—were bound for punishment. In 2 Peter 2:4, the term is used when speaking of sinful angels being held for judgment, with a similar idea appearing in Jude 6.

In Luke 16:14–31, Jesus tells a story about what the King James Version translates as “hell.” But many modern translations retain the word from the original language: Hades.

This would have evoked in Jesus’ audience their understanding of the realm of the dead. The parable uses imagery they would have recognized in order to get into the minds of His listeners and help them understand how God truly saw righteousness, the value of human life, and the seriousness of mishandling both life and wealth.

More than that, it was a warning—one Jesus drives home in the final verse of this section.

Verse 14 begins with the Pharisees responding to Jesus’ previous statement that one cannot serve both God and money. This angered them because the Pharisees loved money. Being told that their love of wealth prevented them from truly serving God—when they considered themselves some of God’s most faithful servants—would have infuriated them.

Jesus responded that God saw their hearts, and what they exalted, God considered an abomination. This becomes a kind of thesis statement for the coming parable.

After this, He gave a brief statement concerning divorce and remarriage, a subject given more attention in Matthew 19:3–9. Jesus challenged the casual attitudes toward divorce that allowed someone to discard a spouse and simply move on.

In the context of this passage, it also highlights another way people could use power and privilege while disregarding the suffering of someone more vulnerable. A divorced woman in that culture could face enormous social and economic consequences while the man who divorced her could simply move on and find another wife.

Just like the poor people being ignored, these women could suffer because others thought primarily of themselves.

Then Jesus moved into the parable.

There were two men. One rich, one poor.

The poor man’s name was Lazarus. Lazarus is the only character given a personal name in any of Jesus’ parables. By naming the poor man but not naming the rich man, Jesus humanized and honored someone the religious elite might have overlooked.

Jesus described Lazarus in a way that would have made many of them uncomfortable. He was poor, lying outside the rich man’s house, and covered in sores that dogs licked. Dogs were generally viewed very differently in that culture than the beloved household pets many of us know today.

This man represented the kind of person society could easily disregard.

And Jesus gave him a name.

Because in God’s eyes, each and every soul is loved and valuable.

Eventually, both men died.

The rich man found himself in torment, while Lazarus was comforted in the presence of Abraham. This would have given the Pharisees and Jesus’ other Jewish listeners a striking image: the poor man they might have despised was now in the company of one of their most honored ancestors.

Lazarus was receiving the comfort and welcome he never received in life.

The rich man cried out to Abraham, but notice something interesting: he still did not address Lazarus directly.

Instead, he asked Abraham to send Lazarus to him with even a drop of water.

Even in torment, he still seemed to view Lazarus as someone who should serve him.

Abraham reminded the rich man that during his life he had received good things, while Lazarus had suffered. Now Lazarus was being comforted. And between them was a great chasm that could not be crossed.

Then the rich man asked Abraham to send Lazarus to his brothers so they could be warned.

Abraham replied, “They have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them.”

They already had the Scriptures.

They already had the truth.

But the rich man insisted that if someone returned from the dead, surely they would repent.

Abraham responded that if they would not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they would not be persuaded even if someone rose from the dead.

What’s the point of this story?

Jesus was calling out the Pharisees.

They were behaving like the rich man—loving wealth, ignoring those in need, and justifying themselves even though they already had the Law and the Prophets telling them how God expected them to live.

Like the rich man’s brothers, they already knew the truth, but they had rejected it in favor of wealth and status.

And there is also a striking foreshadowing in the story.

Jesus Himself would rise from the dead.

And even after He did, many still would not believe.

So the warning rings true: even if someone rises from the dead, a heart determined not to believe can still refuse the truth.

The primary purpose of this story is not to give us a detailed map of the mechanics of heaven and hell. Jesus uses vivid imagery to confront His listeners with a truth that applied to them while they were still alive.

They knew from the Scriptures how they were supposed to live.

But they had chosen a different way.

A way centered on personal gain while ignoring the suffering of others.

They had built a theology in which privilege was treated as evidence of righteousness, and Jesus was tearing that system down.

And we have the same choice to make.

We have the full counsel of God. We have the words of Jesus and His disciples.

We know the truth.

Are we listening?

Or are we justifying selfishness while ignoring the consequences?

The story is not teaching that we earn salvation through good works. Its challenge is much simpler and much more personal:

You know the truth.

You have the truth before you.

Are you acting on it?

Copyright © 2026 Lifeword.org. All rights reserved. No part of this article may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from Lifeword.org