A mixup mashup of words

September 22, 2019 * Luke 16:1-13

This morning’s Gospel text is one of the most troubling in the whole Bible for most people, and I include myself in that.  It’s the kind of story that I wish wasn’t in the Bible, but since it is, together, let’s wrestle with it and try to understand it.

It begins with classic story-telling words:  “There was a rich man who had a manager.”  At this point it has become very clear that Luke talks more about riches than any other Gospel.  The first character named here is the rich man.  We don’t know much at all about this rich man, other than he is a man, and he is rich.  Based on the information that follows, we discover that he is so rich that he needs a manager to handle his business, and he seemingly has a “diverse portfolio” as we’d call it.  Odds are, he owns a substantial amount of land and leases it out for a percentage of the yields.  He could possibly (and probably is) involved in other types of business dealings, but for today’s purposes, we’ll stick to the information Luke gives us. 

Something has happened; someone has come to this rich man and brought “charges” that his manager was squandering the money he was charged with managing (squandering means to waste in a reckless manner).  The rich man asks, “what is this I hear about you?  What have you been doing with my riches? I want a full accounting of what you’ve been doing…you can no longer be my manager.”  If this were to happen today, it would be 4:30, on a Friday, and your boss would come to you and ask you for your keys, your company credit card, and you’d be escorted out of the building.  But, for whatever reason, it seems that this rich man is allowing the manager to continue working, for however short or long a period. 

I’m sure this hit this man, this manager, like a ton of bricks!  He really had it made!  His boss (the rich man) probably trusted him with everything and was basically an absentee boss, he would have been well respected and while probably not rich himself, by virtue of his position would have been elevated to the upper level of the social ladder in this caste society.  He had it made.  And maybe because of that, he became too comfortable.  With a few sentences his whole world came crumbling down, and he began to do what any one of us would have done, and that’s moved into self-preservation mode.  He begins to evaluate where he is in life, the potential outcomes of this situation, and what his options are.  He’s not strong enough to do manual labor, he says, and too proud to beg.  So what is he to do?  How will he survive?  Woes me, says the manager.

Then, the light bulb came on and he knew what he would do.  Yes!  It’s the perfect plan!  I will call a meeting with my boss’s debtors and I’ll tell them what to do.  The one who owes a hundred jugs of olive oil, I’ll tell him to quietly take his bill, and with a little white out and some finesse…now you only owe 50!  And to the one who owes a hundred things of wheat…how about make that 80! 

This is where things start to get a little messy.  Theologians and scholars disagree widely about what just happened: 

One set of commentators allege that the manager could have actually placed an upcharge on the bill for his own benefit from the beginning; and this would fit with the squandering that was spoken of earlier.  Perhaps the manager had fraudulently sent out these billings with a little extra, to pad his own wallet, and when he was reducing the bills (without consistency, might I add), he actually removed the fraudulent portion and left the amount actually owed.  The rich man would not have noticed this because all along what was owed was actually 50 jugs of olive oil and 80 bundles of wheat.  Totally plausible.

The second popular belief surrounding this parable is the manager forfeited his commission.  He would have, as a part of his contract or benefits/salary package with the rich man, a negotiated percentage he would have collected as a commission for each transaction he brokered for the rich man.  So when he reduced the balance due on each bill, the rich man would have been technically out nothing.  It would be the manager who would be doing without these items of currency.

Thirdly, there is the mention of the word “mammon”, which translated means dishonest wealth.  Perhaps the rich man was involved in some unscrupulous and illegal business dealings.  Maybe he was charging interest on what was owed him, which would have not been ok per their legal system (Deuteronomy 23:19-20 and Ezra 7:22).  So perhaps by reducing what was owed, the manager was doing the “right” thing and removing the interest. 

These things aside, the manager’s motive remains the same:  be reducing the debt, by being the one responsible for this, the debtors would pay back the rich man and be freed easier of what they owe him, but in exchange they would become indebted to the manager, who would then make their balance due payable in full immediately when he found himself unemployed, and possibly even homeless (re:  “welcome me into their homes”). 

Before his dismissal (or exit interview as we call it), I’m sure the manager is prepared to hear the worst from his employer.  Instead, though, the rich man speaks words of commendation to the manager, applauding his strategy and shrewdness (shrewdness being using sharp powers of judgement). 

So does he follow through with discharging the manager from his employment?  Does the parable end with v8, or 9, or continue through 13?  What was Jesus doing praising a dishonest manager?  Why did Jesus tell us that we should emulate a man who potentially stole property that didn’t belong to him?  When Jesus has, so many times, told us to dispose of our wealth and not worry about tomorrow, why is Jesus commending someone who did just that?

So many questions.  I’m sure you have several swirling around in your head…those are just the surface of what came to mind for me.

The text ends with a familiar statement of “you can’t serve two masters:  you cannot serve God and wealth.”

We automatically equate wealth with money (or at least I do, anyway).  But, that’s not necessarily always the case.  While you and I may not be wealthy with money, when we open our minds and our eyes we begin to see that we all, are indeed, wealthy people.  Perhaps we are rich with love, or peace, or humility.  Maybe we have been blessed with a spirit of wisdom, or discernment, or influence.  Maybe we have a position of status in the community or at our places of work.  Perhaps we are surrounded by a large family and a friends so numerous we’d never be able to count them.  The ways in which we can be wealthy are more numerous than there are fish in the sea; which then begs the question:  how are you managing your wealth?  What are you doing with the riches at your disposal?  Are you squandering what you have, recklessly wasting it with disregard, or are you making shrewd decisions? 

This parable can be interpreted a thousand different ways; I’m not saying what has been revealed to me is the only way.  But, for me, all paths in this parable wind their way back to stewardship, and we know the spirit of good stewardship is at the heart of discipleship.  We are tasked with being good stewards of the Gospel, of the church, of each other.  We are expected to be responsible stewards of the earth, of justice, of peace.  We are to be honest stewards of our riches. 

To reflect back on that final statement in this morning’s text, I’m left questioning myself, how do I serve God and not my wealth?  I think I need to start that examination with the question, “how am I using (or stewarding) my wealth to serve God?”