The Kingdom Tool of Wealth

Sermon for Sept. 18, 2022
Luke 16:1-13

OK, does anyone else find that Gospel reading to be, shall we say, less than helpful?  Maybe downright confusing?  I mean, I prefer stories like the Good Samaritan, where you come to the end, and Jesus says, “Go, and do likewise” (Luke 10:37) – and then we do.  Well, this isn’t one of those.  This is a complicated story reflecting the complexities of human life.  

Looking at this parable, we start with a temptation to read it as an allegory and equate the rich man with God, right?  I guess the character of the rich man might be one way to view God’s nature – an absentee landlord, someone accumulating holdings, growing wealthy from them, and only passingly concerned with the people involved.  You could see God that way, but I don’t think our Scripture and tradition see God that way.  So, who is the rich man?  Well, maybe he’s … a rich man – a wealthy landlord overseeing the performance of his on-site managers.

OK, then, what about the manager in the story?  As we meet him, we learn he’s been “squandering” the landlord’s property (16:1), so the landlord fires him.  But what’s interesting is his response to being fired.  The manager works with the master’s debtors to cut their debts and win their friendship, building a new circle of support to help him through the crisis of being fired.  The landlord finds out about this and grudgingly commends the manager for being shrewd enough to engineer a soft landing for himself.  It’s a very human story – maybe a parable not so much about God as it is about us.

So, what might we take away from this very human story?  Perhaps that we have grudging admiration for a person clever enough to skirt the law and beat the system.  Perhaps that we cheer a little when the underdog debtors get an unexpected break at the expense of the rich landlord.  Perhaps we’d like to find ourselves in that kind of situation.  I probably wouldn’t argue too much if someone from my credit-card company called and said, “Listen, the computer system has credited you with double payments for the last year, so your balance now is only half what it should be.”  Would I ask to speak with the supervisor and insist my full debt be restored?

Well, if this is a story about people more than a story about God, why is Jesus telling it?  It must have something to do with what it means for us to follow him, right?  Like all Jesus’ parables, this story must be a window into what God’s reign and rule can look like, in contrast to the world as we construct it.  So, what does Jesus say as he reflects on this parable?  He says, “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.” (16:9)

What?  That seems like about the most un-Jesus-y thing Jesus ever said.  So, how do we make sense of it?

Well, you could argue that the Gospel tradition just got this one wrong.  Nobody was shooting video of Jesus on their phones, so all the Gospel writers had to draw on was decades of memory as they put pen to papyrus to share the Good News.  Maybe decades of telling this story had worn it away, confusing the meaning of Jesus’ words like a game of spiritual “telephone.”

Or, you could argue that Jesus is being sarcastic here.  Turning oral tradition into written, translated, and retranslated documents doesn’t capture tone of voice or facial expression.  Maybe what Jesus said was more like, “Yeah, right, sure – make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth, so that when it’s gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes.  Really?  You think that’s my point?”

You may be comforted to know that scriptural commentators ancient and modern have struggled with this reading and don’t agree about what it means.  Some say the manager isn’t dishonest but good because he’s cutting out his commission when he cuts the debtors’ bills.  Others say the manager is playing Robin Hood, taking from the rich to give to the poor, so even “dishonest” means justify those ends.  Hmmmm.

Well, if the scholars aren’t certain what this story means, I won’t pretend to be either.  This is one of those readings no preacher wants to draw.  But I do think maybe there’s a principle here from which we might benefit, now and eternally.  So, try this on.

Our Scripture and tradition are pretty clear that wealth and possessions can have an insidious effect on us.  They can become our focus, even consuming our hearts and minds.  We can spend much of our time and energy building and managing wealth.  We can indulge our desires for things we clearly don’t need, using resources that come from God in ways we’re pretty sure God would never suggest.  The potential power of wealth is so great that Scripture warns repeatedly about the danger of its becoming an ultimate power – that if getting more becomes our prime directive, that means we’re worshiping “more” rather than worshiping the God from whom all things come.  Spiritually, that’s skating on pretty thin ice.

Jesus teaches us many ways to break that habit of worshiping the power of “more.”  Give to all who ask of you, he says (Luke 6:30).  If someone takes your shirt, give them your jacket, too, he says (Matthew 5:40).  Feed the hungry and clothe the naked, he says (Matthew 25:35-40).  Recognize that, in God’s eyes, the poor are at the top of the priority list, coming in first in the Beatitudes as Jesus begins, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God” (Luke 6:20).  I sense a theme here.  The power of “more” is so great that we have to act intentionally against it.  The reign and rule of God is not something Jesus is going to bring in with the flip of a switch – not in our hearts nor in our world.  Both for our eternal well-being, and for the well-being of the poor person standing in front of us, we have to choose to say “no” to the power of “more.”

So, maybe one direction Jesus might be going with this parable is this:  People with worldly priorities are really good, really creative, at maximizing their wealth.  What if we “children of light” (Luke 16:8) got more creative, more intentional, about using the wealth God provides to reveal and build up the reality of God’s kingdom among us?  What if we prioritized getting more wealth to those who have less of it?  That might be a pretty practical way of “making friends for [our]selves” (Luke 16:9) with the folks whose well-being is at the top of Jesus’ to-do list.

So, how would we do that?  If we were at a conference right now, this would be the time when you all would break into groups and come up with solutions, because here’s my confession that you already know:  I don’t have the magic answer for bringing in the reign and rule of God.  And in my view, at least, Jesus doesn’t hand us a specific program for it either.  Faithful people would advocate many different ways to use wealth to help the poor.  Some would say, transfer wealth through government policy.  Some would say, incentivize training and hiring people whom our economy has historically left behind.  Some would say, raise up social entrepreneurship like the Grooming Project, which teaches people skills for success in private enterprise and, by the way, graduated another 21 students here last week.  Some would say, make educating children in poor households our national “moonshot” initiative.

Maybe part of the reason today’s Gospel is so opaque is that we’ve spent so little time taking seriously the notion that wealth is neither good nor bad.  Wealth is a tool, one that can build our own addiction to “more” or one that can build our hearts for an eternal future.  Just as Jesus says here that “you cannot serve God and wealth” (Luke 16:13), so he says elsewhere that the wealthy man Zacchaeus is saved when he gives to others (Luke 19:1-10) and that a hated Samaritan is holy when he pays for a beaten traveler’s care (Luke 10:30-37).  In the Gospels, it’s wealthy women who support Jesus and the disciples financially (Luke 8:1-3).  In Acts, the believers pool their resources to support everyone in their community equally (Acts 2:44-45; 4:32-35), and new converts in distant lands send back offerings to Jerusalem for the relief of the poor (11:27-30).¹ 

Wealth isn’t inherently bad.  What makes it good or bad is how we use it.  If we hoard it and worship the god of “more” – well, that’s pretty clearly idolatry, and God tends to frown on worshiping things that aren’t God.  So, maybe in this crazy parable today, Jesus is asking us to expand our view of wealth.  What if it weren’t just a potential idol, drawing our hearts away from the God who provides it?  And what if it weren’t just another issue to polarize us, spurring arguments over who’s right and who’s wrong about how to use it?  What if, instead, we saw wealth as a tool for building the kingdom among us – for helping the poor and for changing our own hearts?  Not only would that bless the poor, but it would bless us as we prepare to spend eternity with the God who puts the poor at the top of the list.

1.      Craddock, Fred P. Luke. Part of Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (43 vols.). Louisville: John Knox Press, 1990. 189