Who Me the Dishonest Steward? Luke 16:1-13 September 19, 2004, Year C, 16 Pentecost, Proper 20 The Rev. William V. Livingston, Rector Church of the Resurrection, Starkville, Mississippi In my seminary New Testament class our major assignment was to write a paper on a text which we found the most confusing. Well guess which one I chose. Today's Gospel text. So I hope you are prepared to hear my 40 page hermeneutical treatise on the Dishonest Steward. No, I couldn't do that to anyone. However, that research did reveal that from the third century St. Augustine and biblical scholars to this day have question what Jesus meant by this parable, whether he actually said it, where the parable begins and ends, whether the rich landowner represents God, whether the steward by reducing what others owed the owner was reducing what others owed the owner was reducing what was legally owed to the owner, reducing exorbitant interest the owners was illegally charging or reducing the steward's commission which was how he was paid. All I successfully accomplished was to document these debates and the rationale behind each. Today, I have the task of trying to offer a homily that somehow makes sense out of it. A couple of years ago while on a road trip together, some folks from here at Resurrection bought tickets for one of the power ball lotteries. The spent much of their trip fantasizing what they would do if thy won this massive amount of money. How they would spend it. How much they would give to the church. Almost all of us, at least secretly, have mused about sudden wealth: paying off our bills, fancy cars, quitting our jobs, exotic travels. What would you do if you acquired such unexpected wealth? As Ivan's recent attack proved, the opposite is more likely to happen: to lose a home, to lose a job, to have our retirement savings disintegrate in a volatile market. What would you do if everything that gives you material pleasure, assurance or security no longer sustained you? Before we too quickly give this parable its most common title - "the Dishonest Steward" - at the risk of convicting ourselves, let us realize that perhaps we are most like this steward than any of Jesus' other parable characters. The initial charge against the steward is squandering, not dishonesty. Who among us has not squandered our money, our health, our time, our relationship? For this the owner dismisses him. Then, the owner praises him not for his method but, rather, his prudence in taking stock of the situation and using his business acumen and acting decisively. Moving out of the parable, Jesus reinforces this point speaking directly to his hearers, "Make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes." Could this suggest that the "unjust" steward could act justly (or "shrewdly") for just causes just as the taxes raised and the money invested in the broader community by cassinos has resulted in better living conditions in Tunica or on the Choctaw Reservation? Let us not allow this misnomer - "the dishonest steward" - to confuse us. Let us instead hear the contrast: serving God or serving wealth. If there is a positive that comes out of catastrophes such as Ivan, perhaps it is for a few days, we quit serving wealth and genuinely care for others. For a few days, we consider the uncertainty of life and how little assurance our possessions and our false sense of security provide us. For a few days we forget about our petty desires and open our homes and hearts to those who are devastated. The shrewd steward had the forethought to see his world could not be the same and to plan ahead. Do we? Do we recognize our own vulnerability? Do we recognize that daily folks starve to death but CNN doesn't bring this awareness into our living rooms or are we affected by the countless numbers of innocent people killed by the violence waged in our name? We watch with horror as bodies of murdered children are pulled from a school in Russia. We have a tinge of sorrow as we hear an elderly woman describe how Ivan has destroyed everything she owned. But then, life goes on. In bewildering diversity, we exercise that fascinating, sanity-saving ability to compartmentalize. The news may be as portentous as any we have heard in our lifetimes, but life goes on. We cannot live only at the level of world events. In wartime, couples form partnerships in love and hope. Children still go to school. Neither can we live only at the grassroots, unaware another hurricane is moving in the Atlantic Ocean, that daily American soldiers and innocent lives are lost in Iraq, that millions face genocide in Sudan. The challenge is to see the connection. Catastrophic events touch lives in manifold ways, and the cause of these events or our response to them, in turn, are shaped by the restless churning of the populace which must pay the bill, bear the arms, send its sons and daughters into harm's way, and live the lives whose sanctity is what the struggle is presumably about. The realism of today's Gospel simply reminds us that life consists of a series of small opportunities. I doubt this week any of us will discover a cure for AIDS or cancer, save a drowning victim, bring about world peace, be invited to a State dinner, or be executed because of our religious beliefs. More likely the week will present no more than a chance to visit someone in a nursing home, teach a Sunday school class, write a check to the Episcopal Relief and Development Fund to help the victims of recent hurricanes, go to choir practice, make a call to a lonely neighbor, write a check to Resurrection to support our ministries, or feed a neighbor's cat. Or, to paraphrase Mother Teresa, this week will not call on us to do great things but to do small things with great love. This parable reminds us to use our possessions wisely with a view to eternity - to help others, to gain friendships, to secure one's future. But it also warns of the dangers of relying on our possessions, warns that wealth is personified as an idol, the service of whom is the rejection of God. Jesus says we cannot serve two masters. I, as do most of you, have one of these in my pockets (holding up a credit card). With 25% of our population with credit card debt exceeding their total monthly income, have you ever considered that the creators of "MasterCard" may have been more prophetic with its name than they intended? Nothing reflects our relationship with God more than our relationship with money. Our wills - or lack of one - serve as our last testimony of our faith. If giving away possessions in almsgiving secures a place with God, the worship of possessions and clinging to them means ultimate separation from God. Having little knowledge of first century Palestine, many tend to ignore this parable, considering it irrelevant to us. But, who among us hasn't squandered the most important things of life? Today's parable slaps us in the face with the fact that how we handle money serves as an indicator of our fitness to handle any responsibility. Turning it around the other way, our spirituality needs to be informing our financial decisions. Personal integrity and business are not to be treated as different worlds. The life of a disciple is one of faithful attention to the frequent and familiar tasks of each day, however small and insignificant they may seem. So what would you do if you won the superball lottery? What would you do if you were about to lose everything you own? What would you do if you could live a 1000 more years? What would you do if you had only one more day to live? What would you do if your whole way of life was about to change? And Jesus said, "Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much." Think about it!