It Depends Where You're Standing

Luke 16: 1-15, page 740
Jesus told his disciples: “There was a rich man whose manager was accused of wasting his possessions. So he called him in and asked him, ‘what is this I hear about you? Give an account of your management, because you cannot be manager any longer.’
“The manager said to himself, ‘What shall I do now? My master is taking away my job, I’m not strong enough to dig, and I’m ashamed to beg – I know what I’ll do so that, when I lose my job here, people will welcome me into their houses.’
“So he called in each one of his master’s debtors. He asked the first, ‘How much do you owe my master?’
“’Eight hindered gallons of olive oil,’ he replied.
“The manager told him, ‘Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it four hundred.’
“Then he asked the second, ‘and how much do you owe?’
“’A thousand bushels of wheat,’ he replied.
“He told him, ‘Take your bill and make it eight hundred.’
“The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly. For the people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light. I tell you, use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.
“Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much. So if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches? And if you have not been trustworthy with someone else’s property, who will give you property of your own?
“No servant can serve two masters. Either he or she will hate the one and love the other, or he or she will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.”
The Pharisees, who loved money, heard all this and were sneering at Jesus. He said to them, “You are the ones who justify yourselves in the eyes of humanity, but God knows your hearts. What is highly valued among people is detestable in God’s sight.
Sermons
Jesus tells stories, but as you can see, they’re not always easy to follow and they sometimes take work to understand.
You particularly find out that this is true when re-telling Jesus’ parables to children.
I was thankful this past Wednesday morning to be standing where I was, in the back of the crowd, while our Pre-School director Pam McClure was standing in front. She was telling a group of three and four year old children the story of the Good Samaritan.
“There was a man hurt on the side of the road,” she said. “His body was covered in boo-boos.”
“Were they bug bites?” a little girl with curly blond hair asked.
“No honey,” Pam responded, “they weren’t bug bites.”
“Bug bites hurt,” the little girl responded.”
“Yes they do honey, but let me get back to telling the story,” Pam said.
“Do you like my hair?” the little girl asked.
You see – even just finishing the story gets complicated when you are telling it to children, but what is also difficult is leading them to associate with the character you want them to associate with – because where they stand in the story matters – where they stand changes how they hear the lesson.
Take Robin Hood for example. It’s a complicated story, especially if the stories hearer’s begin to associate with the rich – “It’s wrong to steal, isn’t it?” a child might rightly ask.
And a response: “Yes he steals from the rich but he gives to the poor,” might or might not clear anything up.
This morning we are faced with a particularly difficult parable to understand – whether you are a child or a seminary trained pastor who has tried to unravel it by reading it in Greek – this parable will give you a hard time.
The place to begin though is knowing who to associate with – knowing where you stand in the story.
There are three main players: the rich man, also referred to in the parable as the master, is easy enough to figure out – this character represents God – the source of all the possessions possessed by any character in the story. Then there are the debtors – one who carries a debt of olive oil, another of grain. To figure out who these two represent you need only be reminded of your credit card bill or the prayer that we pray every Sunday, “forgive us our debts.” This character in the parable represents you.
And the third – maybe the most important as he is the main character – is a little harder to figure out – so you must go to the end of our passage to hear who this parable offended. The manager, the manager of the debts, the middle man between you, the debtor, and God, the master, are those powerful religious elite who had a particular interest, not in your ability to pay off your debt free and clear, but had a particular interest in keeping you in-debt so that they might make a living off your gradual payment, so that they might hold power over you keeping you in a hole that they had no interest in you ever getting out of.
In today’s world we have known religious professionals who have taken the same approach – maintaining a sure sense of your indebtedness and lording that indebtedness over you so that even once you feel as though you’ve gained some salvation in comes a fear of back-sliding putting you right back where they want you.
But surely here, while I have hit my hand against the pulpit once or twice, it’s not a religious authority who holds you in debt – so this parable isn’t just about guilt and shame and those people who make a living from your guilt and shame – this parable is also about money.
Money that controls, and keeps folks chasing after it. Greed that defines, and redefines priorities so that profit matters over all else. And debt that confines, holds down, and imprisons – keeps folks from freedom, peace of mind, and security.
There are plenty in our world who would play the part of the manager flawlessly.
There are those banks that, from their commercials, appear to be about getting people on their feet, small businesses off the ground, and families in houses that they can afford. But too many have found that the reality is that so many who have loaned money out don’t want to help, don’t even want you to pay off your debt, but want you in the trap of accumulating interest for as long as they can hold you. Credit cards that come in the mail and appear to be the answer to our prayers – veritable interest rate loans that start off just fine – but the goal of these companies is not to help you – but to control you and squeeze as much money out of you as they can.
Then there are those people, those brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, so kind, so comforting in times of mourning, but who circle like vultures when the will is read. Money becomes what matters – and the relationships that are the only ties that bind are forfeited in the name of who gets what.
There are those bosses who want you as long as you’re producing, those friends who offer you favors, not to be kind but who are looking forward to you repaying in kind.
We hold grudges rather than give forgiveness, hold interest rather than forgive debts, and chase money rather than holding on to each other – as like the Pharisees before us – we know that this kind of power can be nice.
But who are we, but managers of what God gives – and shouldn’t we be both surprised and afraid to find that God has no interest in lording over us, holding our debts over us, keeping us tied down – but only desires that our debts be reconciled offering a lower rate than we would ever expect – that our relationships to each other and to our God be made right as though our God only desires that we be set free – only desires that we give up our pursuit of worthless treasures in favor of something that truly matters: “I tell you, use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.”
I have a debate with myself whenever I check out at the grocery store. I was at the Kroger the other morning, in a hurry but not too much of a hurry.
I thought about the self-checkout line – there were a couple people there – then I looked at the sole check-out line peopled by a Kroger employee and went there though there was a line.
The man in front of me bought cigarettes, cat food, and a newspaper – I’m a nosy person you see.
I was surprise that he started talking about a book he’s reading to the woman at the register.
“It’s a work of science fiction – it will probably take me six weeks to read it – you have to have a physics back ground to understand it – I have to sit and think awhile after I’ve only read five pages.
“And could you also give me change for a ten – two fives please,” the man said.
“I’m taking my mother to get her hair done and if I only have a $10 bill she’ll want to tip the stylist the whole $10.”
“It looks like you got a hair but too,” the woman at the register said. “You look nice.”
“Not too nice though,” he replied. “I lost another tooth so I’m scared to smile because when I do I look like I’m from Appalachia.”
“I’m getting a new one though,” he said.
“Well then, you come in here smiling once you do,” the woman said.
He covered his mouth, “I’m smiling now, but don’t look – you may hear the theme song from deliverance.”
Then he left.
“I love seeing that man. He makes me smile every time I see him,” the woman at the register said to me.
Profit drives stores to have those self-checkout lanes – and we like them too, not just because they’re convenient but because if they save a little money the stores will save us a little money.
But there are things more important.
Self-checkout lines don’t get jokes. They can’t smile.
So it depends where you’re standing. In one line or the other.
And money goes – you lose it by spending it away, wasting it away, or by dying without the option of taking any of it with you.
Friends on the other hand – real friends – are there for keeps.
God on the other hand – the Alpha and Omega – the beginning and the end – will always stand with you.
But so much depends on where you stand.
Amen.