Luke 16:1-13
Well, that wasn’t confusing at all, was it? Okay, so, to get to the heart of what Jesus is trying to tell us in this parable, and to understand how this is a message of God’s Good News for us, we’re going to have to do a little bit of Bible study here.
So, the most important thing that’s helpful to know is that the very last sentence of our Gospel reading is supposed to shape our interpretation of the very first sentence. “You cannot serve God and wealth.” “There was a rich man...” Right from the get-go, we are supposed to understand that the rich man in Jesus’ story is not a sympathetic figure. He is not someone who’s supposed to be a role model for our journey as a Christian, and so we need to be suspicious of everything he does after this point. When he tells his manager that he’s going to dismiss him because the manager has been accused (without proof) of financial misconduct, we should be suspicious. When he then commends the dishonest manager, we should be suspicious. We so often think that if someone appears in the Bible that that means they are perfect examples of the godly life, but that isn’t always the case. This rich man is serving wealth, and therefore not serving God. Whatever he does, we should be doing the opposite.
Now, the second thing that it’s important to pay attention to is the way Jesus talks about the “children of this age” versus the “children of the light.” The “children of this age” are people who live in this world, in the present, in this concrete, material world. The Gospel calls them “shrewd,” which really means practical. They want to make the best of what’s in the here-and-now, because it’s not practical to get too attached to a future that may or may not happen. Jesus contrasts them with the “children of light,” who are not so practical. We might call them the people with their heads in the clouds, idealists, not quite in touch with the realities of the world. The children of light often get taken advantage of; the word “shrewd” just isn’t in their vocabulary. That being said, the children of light are the ones who serve God, not wealth.
And finally, the last thing we’re supposed to have in mind is that leading up to this point, the Gospel of Luke has said a lot of things about who is in the kingdom of God, about who is already being brought into the eternal homes: Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, all the prophets, the “last” (as in the last shall be first), and the poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame. These are the ones whom God is already bringing into the kingdom.
Okay, so, rich man and children of this age, the ones who serve wealth––bad. Children of the light and those already in the kingdom, the ones who serve God––good.
And now, let’s look at the most puzzling thing Jesus says, which makes this whole parable so confusing the first time we hear it. After telling us how the manager falsifies the bills so that the debtors will take care of the manager after he’s fired, Jesus says, “and the master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly; for the children of this age are more shrewd (or practical) 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.”
So, for one thing, when the rich man commends the dishonest manager, remember: we’re supposed to reject everything that the dishonest manager did. There are lots of preachers who have tried to twist his actions and struggle to find something good in what the manager has done, but there’s nothing good. Whatever the rich man commends is something we should reject, in this case, shrewd, practical (if dishonest) behaviour.
But it’s that last sentence that’s really supposed to tip us off to what Jesus means: “make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes.”
Wait a minute, it’s not the shrewd, practical, servants of money who welcome us into the eternal homes. Jesus is being sarcastic. I know, we never think he is, but here he is. Jesus knows that the ones who are going to welcome us into the eternal homes are the ones who are already there. You can’t welcome someone in unless you’re already in. And the ones who are in are the “last,” the poor, the crippled, the blind, the lame. The ones who are in are the children of light, the completely impractical ones, the ones who said, “No, I’m not okay with falsifying my bill, it’s not okay to cheat the rich man out of what I owe him, even if he is rich and I’m poor.” The ones who welcome us into the eternal homes, into the kingdom of God, are not the practical, or the shrewd, or the ones whose friendship or protection or loyalty can be bought, but the ones who serve God, who hold to their integrity, who hold to their idealism, even in the face of a world that demands practicality.
And so now we can get to the heart of what Jesus is saying. Jesus is speaking to the disciples, and so to us, and warning us that there are two worlds, two masters fighting for our allegiance. There’s the practical one, where money or the economy is the top priority, and God’s, where the “last” are supposed to be put first. And he’s saying that we can’t live in both worlds. We can’t be both practical and idealistic at the same time. We’re going to have to choose. We can’t live our lives from Monday to Saturday making decisions based on what “makes the most sense,” or trying to make friends with dishonest people, or being practical with our money or our possessions or our lives or our votes. Sure, this way of living probably does makes our lives easier in the here-and-now. I mean, yes, sure, we can prioritize those things, and enjoy this life, but Jesus is saying that if we do, we need to be fully aware that we who call ourselves Christians and followers of Jesus are not, in fact, loving or serving God.
Which is not super-encouraging to hear. I like being practical. I can definitely see the appeal of making friends who have money and power and influence. I used to be idealistic, when I was young, and the stakes seemed lower, but as I get older, I find myself becoming more practical. My kids depend on me. The stakes seem higher. Wealthy people welcoming me into their homes seems like a good back-up plan in uncertain economic times. Voting for the federal party that’s going to protect, or even improve, my financial well-being makes sense. And Jesus is showing me that I need to give that up. To give up being practical. I don’t like this parable. I can see why preachers try to find ways around it.
But it’s important to note that Jesus is speaking to the disciples. He’s speaking to people who have already started following him, who have already very impractically left behind their careers and their security on the shores by the Sea of Galilee. He’s speaking to people who have already given up practical thinking and put themselves in last place. He’s speaking to those who have made the very impractical decision to spend their Sunday morning in church, instead of running errands or cleaning the house or being efficient with their time. He’s speaking to you. Who already know you can’t have it both ways. And he’s telling you that he recognizes that you are sacrificing things to follow him. He acknowledges the cost you are paying to be idealistic rather than practical. He’s telling the disciples and you that when you are faithful in the little things of this life, as you are, that he trusts that you will be faithful with the big things. He’s saying that as you are faithful with what God has given you––your life, in particular; as you are living the life God has given with integrity and honesty, that you will be compensated with God’s own life. That you will be welcomed––by Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, by the prophets, by the poor, the crippled, the blind, the lame––into the eternal homes, into the kingdom of God.
And this is encouraging to hear. Because Christ is not like the dishonest master, who dismisses his manager. Christ is the good master, the one who takes care of his servants no matter what. When you were baptized, Christ became your master, and that means you already have a home to be welcomed into. By virtue of our baptism, we are already guaranteed a place in the kingdom of God, which means we don’t need to act like the manager, creating back-up plans through dishonesty, or putting money and the economy above everything else. We can be last in this life, because in God’s presence we are already first. You are freed from having to live up to the standards of this world because you are already claimed by God. There are different standards for you, which have already been met in baptism.
It’s true, in this world, living with Christ as your master means that things will not always be comfortable. The children of this age will always be ready to dismiss you, especially if you say you’re going to vote as a Christian first. The children of this age will accuse you of being impractical, of being idealistic, of not dealing with the realities of this world. But there is more than just this world and this practical, wealth-focused existence, and so you can hold to your ideals in the face of scorn, you can be impractical in the face of criticism, you can follow Christ as your master. Because even if the children of this age scorn you, even if your family or your friends dismiss or outright reject you, in this world you are in good company with the disciples of Jesus and the children of light. And in the world to come, you are already being welcomed into the company of God and all of God’s children. Thanks be to God. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment