implies that there is something very tragic about a person who can be summed up like that.
The second man could not have been more different.
At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores and longing to eat what fell from the rich man's table (Luke 16:20–21).
So Jesus paints a picture of abject poverty as extreme as the rich man's opulence. He was ‘laid at his gate’, he says. But this is too gentle a translation. The original literally says that he was thrown at his gate. As we might say, he was sprawled there to face the sneering contempt of passers-by. He had no fine clothes. The only things that covered his back were untreated sores; some skin disease, probably, resulting from chronic malnutrition. For he was permanently hungry. The mere sight of the garbage from the rich man's banquet brought saliva foaming to his mouth. But the only real compassion he experienced was shown by the mangy mongrels of the streets. 'Even the dogs... licked his sores' (Luke 16:21). Notice the stress on that word even. Just as in the tale of the lost son in the last chapter, Jesus uses the companionship of animals to emphasize how low this fellow had got. Almost dehumanized, his human dignity was trampled upon and disgraced.
There was one thing, however, that this poor man had which the rich man did not. Something so common its profundity is easily missed. This poor man had a name, Lazarus. It is most unusual for Jesus to give the characters in his stories names. In fact, this is the only occasion he does. So odd is it that some have been tempted to argue that this is a factual incident that Jesus is relating, and not a story at all. But there are no real grounds for claiming that. No, Jesus gives this poor man a name because in the context of his story the name is significant. It is there for a reason. You see, you need a name only if you are known