Unjust
Propers: The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Lectionary
25), A.D. 2016 C
Homily:
Grace, mercy and peace to you from
God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
Today’s parable is a story of judgment.
The dishonest steward—a money manager who’s been skimming off the top—is caught
flat-footed by the wealthy man he serves. His employer does not move to arrest
him, but demands that he turns in his books, because the rich man can no longer
trust this steward to manage his property.
The manager panics. What is he to
do? Surely no one else will hire him for such a cushy position, given that his
crimes have been found out. And he knows himself well enough to admit that he
is too soft for hard labor and too proud to beg. So he cooks up a scheme. He
calls each of his master’s debtors and drastically slashes what they owe.
Twenty percent, fifty percent, gone with the stroke of a stylus! Imagine
someone in middle management at the bank doing this for you: secretly cutting
your mortgage in half, making a year’s worth of college debt disappear.
It is their gratitude he’s after, a
little quid pro quo for when he finds himself out on the street. But again, he
is discovered, and this time the reaction is not at all what he expects. The
rich man commends his manager, praises him for acting shrewdly. But why? Why
should his employer, who was ready to fire him for secretly squandering his
wealth, suddenly be happy that he’s done it again—this time on a far grander
scale? Well, let’s put it this way. Who benefits? Who reaps the reward for this
dramatic alleviation of debt?
In point of fact, everyone does.
Everyone benefits from this. The debtors rejoice that their burdens have been
so noticeably lightened. The manager gains their favor for his, shall we say,
unorthodox accounting. And the rich man, having uncovered the plot, benefits
most of all—by showing magnanimous largess. Think of the goodwill this would
produce for the employer. Think how he would be loved for his mercies and praised
for his superabundant generosity! He gains reputation, prestige, glory,
respect, and honor. And all he loses is some money, which he apparently has
plenty of as it is. What a twist!
This is, of course, a parable of
judgment. Imagine, if you will, that the rich man stands for Almighty God. Everyone
knows, every culture, every mythology, that someday we shall all stand before
the judgment. The details may vary from story to story, but we all know that
the light of truth shines down on the dead. No more hiding. The unjust steward,
meanwhile, would be us. Like him, we have been entrusted by God with
innumerable gifts: ourselves, our time, and our possessions. Every breath we
take is drawn only by the grace and love of the One in whom we live and move
and have our being. Yet we have squandered His gifts, haven’t we?
Come on, we can all admit it; we’re
all sinners here. We haven’t always done what’s right, what we know we ought to
do. We have been prideful, selfish, slothful, cruel, all of that: too weak to
work, too proud to beg. And we know that God will call us out, that judgment
cometh and that right soon. We know that when we have to turn in our books,
they’re not going to balance. He who made our eyes, does He not catch our every
covetous glance? He who made our tongues, does He not hear our every whispered
blasphemy? He who knit us together in the womb, was He not there for every
cutting word, every nasty act, every horrid deed that we hid in the shadows
from everyone but Him?
And so we get scared. We fear the
judgment, fear the truth. We fear that when the fires of God’s glory come, they
may burn us away completely in our impurities. And so how ought we to act? How
ought we, as sinners under judgment, behave in a fallen world with the
uncertain time left to us? We ought to be generous, Jesus implies. When we see
our own debts, we ought to forgive the debts of others. We who cannot stand before
our own judgment, who are we to judge others? It does no good to despair, no
good to grow bitter or selfish or angry. What sense is there in that? We are to
open our hands, to free our neighbors from their burdens, to be shrewd with the
gifts entrusted to us that we’ve already mismanaged. At this point, we might as
well.
Then the hammer falls. Then the
judgment comes. Murder will out, as they say, and someday, when the light of
God banishes every shadow, there will be no more darkness to hide our lies, and
everywhere truth will shine out. Here it comes. Brace yourselves. The final
reckoning is upon us. The books have been turned in. Now we come to our just
rewards.
But what’s this? Why, the Lord
seems to be smiling. Smiling, even as He sees how we have squandered His
property! How can this be? And now, mirabile dictu, He laughs! He commends us
for our shrewdness, for playing the spendthrift with wealth not our own! He is
pleased by our mismanagement. How can this be? We expected the harshness of
truth, the fires of judgment, but we never expected this warmth, this
generosity, this magnanimity. He is pleased that we have been generous with His
gifts. He is joyous that we’ve scattered His wealth all about.
Everyone knows, every culture,
every mythology, that someday we shall all stand before the judgment and the
light of truth will shine down upon the dead. But what we did not know, what we
barely dared to dream, is that the Judge who sits upon that throne loves us,
truly loves us—not in some theoretical or transcendent way, but as the Father
who calls us all His children, as the Spirit who chooses to dwell within our
breast, as the Christ who bled and suffered and died to forgive us, to heal us,
to raise us up from the dead to life everlasting!
The Judgment has already been
revealed from the Cross: “Now is the judgment,” proclaims
the Lord: “I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to Myself.” In the words of St Paul to St
Timothy this morning: “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. For there is one God; there is also one mediator between God and
humankind, Christ Jesus, Himself human, who gave Himself a ransom for all.”
Every Sunday, brothers and sisters,
we confess the faith of the Church in the words of the Apostles’ Creed: “I
believe in Jesus Christ, God’s only Son, our Lord … He will come again to judge
the living and the dead.” That is not a threat. That is not a terror. That is
nothing to be scared of. It is in fact a promise of joy and relief and hope and
infinite comfort. The face of our Judge is revealed as the face of Jesus
Christ, the Lion of Judah and Lamb of God; the same who forgave us our sins
even as we were murdering Him; who plunged into hell to release the worst of
history’s sinners from their chains; who rose again into Heaven to prepare a
place for us in His Father’s house where there are, oh, so many mansions.
Do not fear the Judgment, dear
Christians. Our world was judged long ago when it turned upon the axis of the
Cross. Yes, we are sinners. Yes, we have done great harm. And yes, we must repent,
with open hearts and open hands. But our Judge is none other than our own High
Priest, our Advocate who poured out His life for us, His Spirit for us, His own
Body and Blood for us. Have faith in Him, in His love, in His shocking
magnanimity and superabundant grace. Trust in Him above all else, in His Word,
in His Sacraments, and the truth shall not harm you. No, indeed—the truth shall
set you free.
In the Name of the Father and of
the +Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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