Luke 16: 1 - 13 Sermon
1Then Jesus said to the
disciples,
"There
was a rich man who had a manager, and charges were brought to the rich man that
this manager was squandering the rich man’s property. So the rich man summoned
the manager and said to him,
'What
is this that I hear about you? Give me an accounting of your management,
because you cannot be my manager any longer.'
Then
the manager said to himself,
'What
will I do, now that my master is taking the position away from me? I am not
strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg. I have decided what to do so
that, when I am dismissed as manager, people may welcome me into their homes.'
So,
summoning his master's debtors one by one, he asked the first,
'How
much do you owe my master?' The debtor answered, 'A hundred jugs of olive oil.'
The manager said to him, 'Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it fifty.'
Then
he asked another, 'And how much do you owe?' The debtor replied, 'A hundred
containers of wheat.' The manager said to him, 'Take your bill and make it
eighty.'
And
his master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly; for
the children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation
than are the children of light. And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by
means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into
the eternal homes.
"Whoever is faithful in a
very little is faithful also in much; and whoever is dishonest in a very little
is dishonest also in much. If then you have not been faithful with the
dishonest wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches? And if you have not
been faithful with what belongs to another, who will give you what is your own?
No slave can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love
the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God
and wealth."
***
Growing
up there were things I was taught not to talk about. Money was one of them. Now
as an adult, I think silence often gives the unspoken a power we don’t intend.
So though it is not stewardship season, and though I am not going to ask for
money for the church, I am going to talk about money, in the hope that we see
the power wealth holds, and perhaps begin to release some of that power, that
we might serve God rather than money. While this parable seems of an entirely
different time, there are many aspects which are well alive today, aspects of
the power of money, and its ability to alter the course of our lives.
I
look at the manager, who was dishonest with his master’s money. I wonder for
what luxury was he was hoping, or what debt was he trying to pay off, or
perhaps, because the system of wealth was so uneven in Biblical times, he was
being a Robin Hood, and stealing money to help the poor, to feed his family.
Some commentaries say he was a slave, too old to dig, and too proud to beg.
Does slavery make his dishonesty simply justice seeking against a wealthy
master? The text doesn’t give us either the manager’s reasons or his excuses,
but I think they are worth questioning before we stop to judge. I think it
worth questioning if stealing is always wrong, or if there are situations where
stealing is righting the wrong of oppression.
No
matter the manager’s excuses or reasons, he is fired from his job, on the
pretense of hearsay, and is left without the chance to explain. The master
says, 'What is this that I hear about you? Give me an accounting of
your management, because you cannot be my manager any longer.' The manager doesn’t get a word in edgewise, and I think
we know how this works. We have a phrase, ‘money talks,’ and I am afraid it
does. I am afraid it fills the pages of our newspapers, and the often the
thoughts of our minds. Money has a voice, we can name the richest Americans,
and we know about them, but do we know about the poorest? Where might they
live, what might they say if given a platform to speak, the cover of Forbes
magazine? Would they say, ‘I am enslaved,’ or, ‘I was fired without a chance to
explain,’ or would they point out the oppressiveness of our system of wealth.
What would the poorest American say? What would the poorest in our town say?
The poorest in our church say? Are we asking, or are there things of which we
have been taught not to speak? How are our silences speaking instead and giving
power in ways we don’t intend. What would it look to speak truth to that power?
Perhaps
speaking truth to power looks something like the dishonest manager’s response.
The dishonest manager names his fear, that once accused, and once unemployed,
people will not welcome him into their home. It tugs at my heart strings that
it is neither lack of food, nor source of shelter that the manager fears.
Instead, he fears being unwelcome. He fears being alone. I wonder if the
poorest person in our town would say the same. I wonder if when we look at our
own desires for wealth, if we fear the same. Do our purchases seek to find a
way to fit in? Do we want the home, the wardrobe, the toys, the status that
will make us feel included? Or are we spending money on things which will
actually bring us closer to other people, like a shared meal, or a great family
trip to remember for years to come? Is our spending in line with who we are and
who we would like to become? Does it reflect what we care about, a charity
which has gotten us through a hard time, a Salt Lick Auction for Parkinson's, a
church mission trip where we served God and neighbor, a box of fruit for the
backpack program? Are we asking these questions or are we just trying to keep
up with the Jones’ because we fear being alone, or are afraid to look at the
ways money makes us feel we are already alone.
Just
as the manager knows the accusation of dishonesty and the reality of
unemployment will shun him from people’s homes, he knows also that money has
the power to welcome him as well. He goes house to house, settling debts by
cutting out his own commission, a commission that might have enabled him to
sustain himself financially a little longer. Instead he chooses the welcome. He
asks the debtors, 'How much do you owe my master?' The debtor answered, 'A
hundred jugs of olive oil.' The manager said to him, 'Take your bill, sit down
quickly, and make it fifty.' Then he
asked another, 'And how much do you owe?' The debtor replied, 'A hundred
containers of wheat.' The manager said to him, 'Take your bill and make it
eighty.' The master calls his dealing
shrewd, the debtors were thankful for a lesser rate, and the manager is seen as
a friend, even though he puts himself in a precarious place in order to buy
their friendship. The normal order of things is turned on its head.
The
manager takes a top down relationship of debts, debtors, and middle man, and
switches the relationship horizontally to friendship. Can you imagine if all
our exchanges worked like this? If each time we had a need, or a bill to pay,
what we discerned was the true cost: the friendships it would create or hinder,
the oppression of the poor stop or continue, the chains of debt which might
become tighter or looser, our fear of being alone which might increase or
subside? What if these realities were what we questioned with each thing we
bought and sold? The coffee we drink, fair trade or unfair? The clothes we buy,
to keep us warm, or those from sweatshop poor? The improvements for our home,
to keep up with the Jones’ or to allow us a place to sit and have a meal with
friends. The charity we support, to have our name printed, or to know we have
helped an Open Door kid have someone to talk to and a place to be welcomed?
What if with every purchase we asked if our purchase would help change the
relationships of this world into the relationships of God’s world?
I
think the manager is asking this question. “Will this exchange change the
relationships of this world into the relationships of God’s world?’ God does
not live in the hierarchies of silence, wealth and power. God lives in
relationships, in friendships, in freedom from oppression, in comforting the
lonely, and justice for the poor. Let us, in daily life, give voice to these
relationships of God’s world. Let our money talk for the poorest among us, and
the ways we ourselves feel alone. Let us speak truth to power, and serve our
God rather than money. Let God be our master, and the dishonest manager our
guide.
