Weighed and Measured
Sermon:
Grace, mercy and peace to you from
God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. AMEN.
The parable of the Dishonest
Steward has been called the “problem child” of the Gospel. Having just given us
three different stories about the joy experienced upon finding something lost,
Jesus in Luke’s account turns now to a tale of ill-gotten gains. The manager of
a rich man’s estate receives notice of his imminent termination due to rumors
that he has mismanaged his master’s funds. Whether these accusations have any truth
behind them remains anyone’s guess. The manager responds, however, but using
what little time is left to him in writing off the debts that others owe to his
employer. A man who owes 100 jugs of olive oil finds his bill reduced by half;
another, who owes 100 containers of wheat, regains 20% with the stroke of a
stylus.
The Dishonest Steward of the
parable uses his position to gain favor amongst his master’s debtors, with the
expectation that they in turn shall provide for him during his looming
unemployment. Lo and behold, his master commends him for his shrewdness—as Christ
commends us to thus make friends for ourselves by means of wealth not our own. We
can see now, can’t we, why this parable appears only in one of the four
Gospels! What are we to make of this twisted little tale? What on earth might
be the take-home message imparted to us here?
Things seem to become all the more
muddled when we find not one but two different moral explanations tacked on to
the end of the story. “Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in
much,” notes Jesus. “If you have not been faithful with what belongs to
another, who will give you what is your own?” That’s explanation one. Then
comes the famous, “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 both God and wealth.”
My heavens! Are we to be dishonest?
Are we to emulate an unfaithful steward? And for that matter—is Christ
condemning wealth? It all makes such an interesting contrast to our first
reading this morning, from the prophet Amos. Amos was a shepherd, you see, a
rural man of southern Judah whom God called abruptly to prophesy in the
northern kingdom of Israel during the reign of Jeroboam II. This was the Eighth
Century before Christ, a time of great material luxury and worldly splendor,
when the pastoral origins of the prophet would contrast strongly with the
sophisticated decadence of the urban north.
Amos condemns the predatory greed
of the northern tribes, who hunger for religious festivals to end so that they
might return quickly to the business of fleecing the poor with false weights
and measures. “We will make the ephah small and the shekel great,” he says of
their motives, “and practice deceit with false balances, buying the poor for
silver and the needy for a pair of sandals, and selling the sweepings of the
wheat.” False measures, maximum prophets, human abuses, and no quality control—sound
familiar? These are the hallmarks of corruption and unrestrained profiteering
the world over. Here indeed we find stewards of dishonest wealth.
Keep in mind that ancient Israel
had no government bureau of weights and measures. How do we know today that a
pound is a pound, a yard a yard? When we fill up at Cenex and watch the gallons
flow to the second decimal, how do we trust that the numbers aren’t off? How do
we know that they do not make our ephah small in order to make their shekel
great? Well, today there’s a little sticker on each pump vouching for the gas
station’s certification. A licensed government agent has investigated and approved
the fair dealing of our local merchants. But ancient Israel had no such safeguards.
The only institution that
maintained fair and uniform weights and measures was the Temple. The Temple
insured that every weight matched the uniform amount, that every coin held the
proper precious value, that all goods were honest and legitimate. It was a
concern of social justice, and thus a concern of religion. God cared about the
poor. He cared about justice and fair dealing. He cared about goodness, truth,
and beauty in all human life. And woe be unto those who would violate the trust
of the people for whom God cares!
This, mind you, was quite odd in
the Middle East: a deity concerned with the powerless and poor. After all, what
could they possibly offer to His glory? They could build Him no great temples,
offer Him no opulent sacrifice. Other gods, false gods, supported the rich and
the strong. But this backwards Israelite God—He championed the weak. Very
strange. By the way, do you know what institution took over this function
during the Middle Ages—what institution concerned itself with standardized
weights and uniform measures? It was the Church. Social justice, again, was the
domain of religion. We don’t often think of accurate
measurements and verified coinage as something particularly Christian. But I
assure you that such everyday concerns for fair dealing were something downright
spiritual for the vulnerable and
needy in society. And if the poor care, then I very much assure you that God
cares.
We find this reflected as well in
the First Epistle to Timothy, wherein St. Paul urges “that supplications,
prayers, intercessions, and thanksgiving be made for everyone, for kings and
all who are in high positions, so that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life
in all godliness and dignity. This is right and acceptable in the sight of God
our Savior, Who desires everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of
the truth.”
Imagine that. We are to pray for
everyone, including all people in high and lofty position, so that we might all
lead quiet and peaceable lives of godliness
and dignity. God does not demand
great tribute and bloody battle. God does not counsel rebellion or violence.
God seeks the salvation of all through quiet and peaceable lives of justice,
godliness, and dignity for all peoples. That is astounding! Salvation is not
preached by cosmic warfare or opulent temples but by everyday peace, everyday
justice, everyday dignity for all human beings regardless of birth or position
or wealth. He cares not for empires or conquest but that we provide true dignity,
wholesome food, and fair dealing for all.
My God! What sort of a Deity is
this? He does not demand that we pull ourselves up from the rabble to ascend
into Heaven, but rather that we meet Him in a manger, as a small child held by
a poor yet noble Mother. He does not call us to extraordinary heroism but to
holiness in the home, in our work, in our communities. The God of infinite, boundless
expanse meets us in the small, the commonplace, the humble. It’s what we do here that matters, how we
treat the neighbor, the stranger, the unimportant nobody whom we may never see
again!
This is not the God Who encourages
a Dishonest Steward. So again we must ask, what are we to make of Jesus’
parable today? What message take we home? Obviously we are not meant to emulate
the manager’s motives, lazy and self-serving as he is. Some Church Fathers even
believed that the Dishonest Steward represents the Devil getting wind of God’s
swift-falling justice. But we are to emulate his shrewdness in understanding
just what wealth is for.
Wealth exists to serve our
neighbor. Wealth exists to be given, to be used. We are entrusted with wealth—not
just money but also property, talents, opportunities—all for the service of the
greater good. We are to use it shrewdly,
intelligently. Jesus commanded we be wise as serpents yet innocent as doves.
This does not mean that we are all called simply to shed all worldly
possessions. Christ has called some to that, yes, but He has also called the
rich and powerful to other service. Ours is a complex economy with many
choices: saving, investing, purchasing, almsgiving, all oiling the wheels of a
financial machine that, though often rife with injustice, has nonetheless
lifted more human souls out of poverty than any other economic system in
history. This is no bad thing! It is a blessing.
Yet beware that the good gifts of
God not become tyrants and false gods among us. When money ceases to be a tool
and becomes instead an idol—when the almighty dollar is no longer a means to an
end but our end in itself—then we worship not God but mammon, the wealth that
separates us from God. Beware the demon mammon! Subtly in he creeps, in the
desire for useless accumulation, in houses full of things we neither need nor
ultimately want. He drowns us in our
own possessions, our own suffocating excess. Wealth cannot be a god! Wealth
cannot give you life.
Rather, wealth is a gift. Wealth is
a tool. It is entrusted to us by God, though it is not truly ours, and we are
tasked with stewarding it wisely for the benefit of all: earning it, spending
it, giving it, investing it. You are not your bank account; you are not your
job. You are nothing less than God’s own wise steward, serving neighbor and
community, in godliness and dignity, with the unique riches entrusted unto you
in the Name of Jesus Christ.
Thanks be to God, Who calls
dishonest stewards. In Jesus’ Name. AMEN.
Prayers of Intercession:
With the whole
people of God in Christ Jesus, let us pray for the Church, for those in need,
and for all of God’s Creation.
Holy God, Who
gives good things, loosen mouth and tongue
To praise You for Your gracious ways,
here preached and prayed and sung
Pour out Your
provision for the winter cold ahead
Provide for bird and beast alike, for
children warm in bed
Let our
witness lead the lost to seek Your loving care
Restless, let us rest in You. In
Jesus—hear our prayer.
Fill the
leaders of our nations with Your justice true
Guide them in decision bringing peace
the whole world through
Make known
Yourself amongst all those who suffer in distress
Bring healing to the hopeless, ill,
and all who are oppressed
Surround us
all with comfort; let Your love our lives ensnare
Restore us in Your wholeness, Lord.
In Jesus—hear our prayer.
Inspire us to
ethics in our businesses and work
Move employers to fair wages and
employees not to shirk
Let Your
justice permeate our economics as we strive
To grant meaning, purpose, dignity to
all our neighbors’ lives
Lead us in our
faithfulness, our witness now laid bare
Unite us, Lord, with all the saints.
In Jesus—hear our prayer.
Lord, we pray
for those we lift before You, both silently and aloud: for Dave, Mike, Pat, Chuck,
and Lon; for the people of Our Saviour’s in Sebeka, and for those who violated
their trust; for families in mourning who search for a merciful God; for the
unity of the Assyrian and Chaldean churches; for peace in the Middle East; and
for all who dare not pray to You.
Into Your
hands, O Lord, we commend all for whom we pray
Trusting in
Your mercy to light and guard our way. AMEN.
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