"Now Is the Time"

First Presbyterian Church
Peter S. Buehler
September 23, 2007
Luke 16:1-13

…and his master commended the dishonest manager
because he had acted shrewdly.

Years ago I had a summer job working for a seed company. My job was to drive around southern New England and New York in a van packing up seed rack displays that had been shipped to retailers in the spring from the company's headquarters in Kentucky. I would inventory the racks, counting the remaining seed packets -- flowers, vegetables and herbs -- then box up the racks and seeds and ship them back to Kentucky. The retailers would be billed based on my records of what they had sold.

During the training in Kentucky, I and the other college kids were told that accuracy was important; this, after all, was how the company made its money.
But we were also told that we'd be paid minimum wage, along with a bonus based on the number of retailers we visited. It seems that I heard the first part of that message more than I heard the second part, so much so that over the course of the summer I made a point of being accurate, counting every single seed packet in every rack, being sure to make no mistakes. It didn't occur to me why my paychecks from the company were so dismally small, even when I heard from headquarters about how my co-workers were doing in their respective territories, especially one shrewd fellow who was at the top of the list and making fistfuls of money. I remember saying to myself, There's no way he's counting every seed packet! It's not possible. It never occurred to me that the job was really about speed, and therefore estimating, eyeballing what was on the seed racks, maybe giving the retailers the benefit of the count, was not only an accepted practice but the expected practice.

I made about $500 that summer, which, after expenses, netted me, I think, roughly $1.25. I was not shrewd. Though to this day were it not for our Gospel passage from Luke, I wouldn't think of shrewdness as a virtue, let alone a Christian virtue. After all, shrewdness implies cunning and trickery, bordering on dishonesty; we may admire certain shrewd people we know, but we're wary of them.

So it strikes us as odd and confusing that Jesus tells a parable about a dishonest manager who is somehow praised for his shrewdness. It's a strange story. If we were putting New Testament together, if we were its editors, this parable would wind up on the cutting room floor.

But scripture is never so predictable, and Jesus doesn't tell us what we already know. So if we're puzzled by his choice of parables, it shows we're paying attention.

If we're paying attention to the parable, we take note of several things. And if we can bring to mind for ourselves what it's like to be in the midst of a personal crisis, we will pay special attention -- and if that crisis happened to be one which we had a part in causing, one for which we were largely responsible, we will find ourselves paying extra special attention. After all, there have been times when we have blundered, when we have done things we are not proud of. While we may cringe remembering those times, here they help us listen well to Jesus, who speaks gently, I'm not going to embarrass you, and I'm not going to judge you, but right now I want you to be thoroughly yourself -- a patchwork of good and bad, of pride and shame. Be unsettled for a moment and listen to the story. What do you notice?

We notice that the manager's dishonesty is not specified -- did he swindle his master's clients? Did he skim his accounts? Or pad his expenses? Or was he incompetent? Or indiscreet? In today's world we would want to know exactly what he did wrong, we expect to hear all about it on the evening news -- but the details of the dishonesty are not important here. It's harder therefore to distance ourselves from him.

We notice as well that the manager doesn't object to what his master says. He accepts his termination without defensiveness or bitterness. And he does not panic. Instead he calmly and candidly assesses his situation, admitting that he's too weak for manual labor and he's too proud to beg. My options, he says to himself, are few! What shall I do? How am I going to survive? I have to do something now!

If nothing else, our friend is cool-headed in a crisis. Then the light bulb goes on: I know what I'll do. I'll go quickly to my master's best clients and ingratiate myself so I can go back to them later and they'll take me in, maybe even give me a job.
He calls an olive oil grower in. The man owes his landlord 100 jugs of oil -- 900 gallons -- but the manager, subtracting his commission, plus some of his master's profits, tells the grower, You owe 100 jugs; how about we make it 50?
Same thing to the wheat farmer: You owe 6,000 pounds of wheat. Would you settle for 4,000?

But then the biggest surprise of all: the landlord's reaction. Instead of throwing his manager into prison, instead of casting him out into the darkness, instead of raining down condemnation and punishment upon his head, the master smiles and commends him "because he had acted shrewdly." "Astutely," say other versions of the Bible. Or "prudently." All positives. We shake our heads. What is Jesus teaching?

Elsewhere he says, Strive to enter through the narrow door; for many, I tell you, will try to enter and will not be able (13:24). Is there a new door to heaven we don't know about? Have the rules changed?

I've held onto a cartoon that shows some scraggly looking men climbing up over the pearly gates, grabbing haloes and angels' wings off a table, and, with grins on their faces, bolting off into Heaven. Nearby, looking on, are more saintly looking characters, also with haloes and wings, but with quizzical looks on their faces, as if to say Who are these guys? The caption reads: The kind of thing you hate to see after taking the pains to lead a good and honest life.

We concur. Heaven may include people more deserving than we are, but there had better not be anyone there who snuck in!

You know the story about the florist's new assistant who took a telephone order from a customer. "The ribbon must be white," said the woman on the phone, "with gold letters reading 'Rest in Peace' on both sides, and, if you can squeeze it in, 'We Shall Meet in Heaven.'" When the floral tribute reached the home of the deceased, the inscription read: Rest in peace on both sides! If you can squeeze in, we shall meet in heaven!

I imagine there will be a lot of people there who, by the grace of God, have squeezed in. I think we'll be surprised -- I hope we get the chance to be surprised!

But that's not the point. The real surprise is in the parable Jesus tells. The surprise is the message about shrewdness, being smart about the time we have here on earth. Because when the Lord speaks about the kingdom of heaven, he's speaking about the present, not just the future.

His parable is about an un-heavenly, imperfect individual because disciples need to get the point: If we had to settle accounts tomorrow, would we be judged faithful? Are we above judgment? And if, as we think about our assets and our lives and where we are with what we have, we were given a chance to vastly improve our chances of being judged faithful, what would we do?

What would be the shrewd thing to do?

I find myself at odds with this. I don't believe we can perform our way into heaven. I don't believe we can negotiate our way into heaven. It's all by the grace of God, though I believe we hardly have a clue about the breadth of his grace.
If as the apostle says, the cross of Jesus Christ is a stumbling block to some and foolishness to others, it is also as he says: to us the power of God and the wisdom of God. The more we turn ourselves over to God, the more faithful we become, and the more sure of God's goodness. It is this promise, this goodness, which creates in us the freedom we know as generosity.

The message of the parable of the dishonest manager is that it is shrewd to be generous. Now is the time, says the Master, to deal with the people in your life generously. And yes, the word "shrewd" does apply. The first definition, after all, is "having keen insight; discerning; astute." All words that reflect clear thinking, wise choosing. Because true generosity is not just about generous feelings, showing kindness toward those who move us, people we judge to be deserving.
Jesus would have us look at our giving, our generosity, in a very different way.
It's not just about supporting worthy causes we feel good about -- this is the way the world does it, this is not how God's people do it. Disciples, says Jesus, are determined to be generous; that comes first. Who benefits comes second.

St. Augustine, writing in the fourth century, said that the parable of the dishonest manager is about giving alms, about giving to the poor. And he says something striking, especially to us today who tend to be cautious in our charitable giving.
"…we must not really pick and choose to whom we give (alms)," he writes, "because we are unable to sift through people's hearts."

I don't imagine that means giving money to people who will use it to stay stuck in addictions -- that's neither wise nor astute. I do think it means we are called to risk more of what we have for those who have very little; I do think it means that it is good to show kindness toward those who do not seem to us to be deserving.
For how we think is also a way of practicing generosity.

There are simple and practical things we can do. There are those, for example, who keep boxes of energy bars, or bags of sandwiches in their cars, giving them out to people standing by highway off-ramps. Who the recipients are really doesn't matter; it is the giver who gets a chance to be generous on a daily basis.
A win-win, and the giving keeps him, it keeps her, in practice for those occasions, those unprepared-for moments when great generosity is required.

Jesus adds a comment to the parable. While the dishonest manager cuts deals on hundreds of gallons of oil and thousands of pounds of wheat, and is commended for his shrewdness, the Lord teaches his disciples that faithfulness has as much to do with small things -- small amounts, small checking accounts, small acts of generosity -- as it does with large donations and one-time gifts.
God commends all generosity.

Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much, says the Lord. If there is a verse to memorize it is this. If there are good words with which to start the day, these are the words. Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much.

Because often we're tempted to see the world like a K-Mart, everything discounted, even human life. We're tempted to imagine that who we are and what we have does not amount to that much, that the difference we make in the world is slight, that what we have to give is hardly worth giving.

But Jesus says Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much. Every act of faithfulness matters. Every expression of human generosity shows a wealth of kindness. Every time a follower of Jesus helps even one person who is poor, the world gets a peek into heaven.

Heaven will include some surprising faces, people who, even late in life, changed their minds and changed their lives. Maybe hearing a parable about a rascal property manager caused them to realize that God is far more open-minded than they thought, so they quickly did what they needed to do make peace with their past.

God, after all, is the most generous one of all.