In Luke 16:19–31, Jesus tells a sobering parable about a rich man who lived in comfort and a poor man named Lazarus who lay at the rich man’s gate, longing for scraps. Lazarus is not hidden. His need is visible, daily, unavoidable. Yet the rich man passes by—so consistently that it becomes normal.
This parable isn’t only about money. It’s about what we notice, what we ignore, and what we’ve trained our hearts to treat as background noise. And in a workplace context, it raises a piercing question:
Are we showing up as the same person at work that we claim to be at home and in our faith—especially when it comes to how we treat people who can’t “repay” us?
Christ-like authenticity isn’t a brand. It’s a life that holds together.
The rich man’s life was impressive on the outside: fine clothing, rich food, status, comfort. But Jesus reveals that outward success can coexist with inward numbness. The rich man wasn’t condemned because he had wealth; he was condemned because his heart had grown cold in a way that shaped his everyday choices.
The striking detail is location: Lazarus is “at his gate.” Not miles away. Not in another city. At the threshold of the rich man’s daily routine.
A workplace is often a “gate” like that—a repeated path where we encounter people every day:
And the parable asks us: Do we see them?
Authenticity at work is not mainly about being “open” or “real” in conversation. It’s about being aligned—heart, motives, behavior—especially when no one is applauding.
There’s a difference between healthy boundaries and hidden hypocrisy. We all need wisdom about what we share and how we share it. But when our character changes depending on who benefits us, we’re drifting into something Jesus repeatedly confronts: public righteousness without private transformation.
Christ-like authenticity looks like:
A follower of Jesus should be recognizable across contexts—not because we’re loud about faith, but because we’re steadily shaped by Him.
Try praying this before work for a week:
“Jesus, make me the same person in public and in private. Help me see the people I usually overlook. Give me courage to do the next right thing with love.”
Then watch what happens. Not because the workplace becomes easy—but because your heart becomes awake.