security in mercy

Several weeks ago it was my assignment to preach on Luke 16:1-13, the parable of the unjust steward and Jesus' ensuing interpretive comments.  This parable tied my mind in knots, not least because the moral that Jesus draws from the parable does not ring true in my ears: "make friends for yourself by means of dishonest wealth, so that when it is gone, they make welcome you into the eternal homes" (16:9).  I do not usually associate Jesus with dishonest wealth.

What I do associate with Jesus, on the other hand, is his statement that "you cannot serve both God and money" (16:13), a phrase that given its location must surely have something to do with the parable that precedes it.  So how might we reconcile such seemingly contradictory statements?

I found some measure of clarity by reading the parable in light of other parables, and particularly the parables that just precede the tale of the unjust steward, namely the parables of "the lost" in Luke 15.  In fact, it seems that Luke would want us to read these (four) parables together, as they all fit within a common frame: references that Jesus told these stories in the hearing of the Pharisees who were "grumbling" or "sneering" at him (15:2, 16:14).  In other words, these parables illustrate a common theme illustrated in a long textual unit stretching from 15:1-16:14.  That theme touches upon other themes, but it may be best expressed by a simple phrase from Jesus' aforementioned moral: "make friends for yourself."

The counsel to "make friends for yourself" is precisely what Jesus' opponents (the Pharisees) didn't want to hear, and what Jesus' disciples (to whom he told this parable) might accept or reject--thereby going the route of the Pharisees.  In telling the three parables of the lost (15:3-32), Jesus was responding to the Pharisees' complaint that he ate with and welcomed sinners and tax collectors (15:1-2).  The third and probably best-known of these, the parable of the two sons ("the prodigal son"), most directly connects the two parties--"the sinners" and the "Pharisees"--who were always around Jesus (with the disciples perhaps caught between these two).  It is not hard to see, for example, that the younger son in the parable of the two sons represents "sinners", those who have "squandered" the wealth that their father has graciously given them.  It is equally easy to see that the older son in that parable stands for the Pharisees, those who have not left the home or active service of their father but who grumble unmercifully--unlike the father whose character they purport to share--at those who have.

The parable of the two sons, then, sets the table for the parable of the unjust steward. For, just as the younger son in the preceding parable had "squandered" the wealth of his father, so the steward of a certain rich man "squanders" the wealth entrusted to his care (15:13, 16:1).  And just as the prodigal "comes to his senses" in an inner monologue before putting his words to action, so the unjust steward when stripped of his stewardship decides what he will do to provide for himself before putting the plan into action (15:17, 16:3-4).

What then did the unjust steward do?  The answer to this question makes all the difference, for it describes the action which Jesus commends.  That action is to use his authority to in some measure "forgive" the debts others owe to his master, thereby winning their favor.  Seeing that his job security is gone on account of his mismanagement, the unjust steward determines that his life no more rests in the service of "unjust mammon" but in the mercy of "God" through the welcome of his master's servants "into their homes."  Though the steward may not be commended for having come to such a realization freely but only when pressed to act out of utmost need, his seeking of security in mercy rather than mammon makes him too a child of God.  Like his fellow "tax collector" Zacchaeus a few short chapters later (19:1-10), the steward on occasion of the master's call transfers his allegiance from the realm of mammon to the realm of God.  No more is he a servant of money, enslaved to one master, but the servant of God, enslaved to Another.  The unjust steward, like "the sinners and tax collectors" who wandered far from home, is the one whose repentance ("turning around" or " changing direction") has gained him welcome in "everlasting homes."  Specifically, that repentance which leads to eternal security is the "making of friends", the welcoming of others in order that they may welcome you.

What then of the "dishonest wealth"?  To "make friends" may seem like good counsel, but shall we do so "by means of dishonest wealth?"  As other English translations have it, the Greek phrase which the NRSV translates "by means of dishonest wealth" might also be rendered "use worldly wealth" (NIV) or, as the New Jerusalem Bible puts it, "use money, tainted as it is."  That would seem to strike close to the reality of our own situation.  Who could argue that the world in which we live is not built upon "tainted" wealth, that the lands in which we make our livelihoods were stolen from others, that the food which we buy was produced from lands unjustly possessed and using means often degrading to the earth itself?  The world of mammon is incontestably unjust.

Nevertheless ensnared, God holds us responsible to use our "worldly wealth" to "make friends" out of enemies, to apply what resources we manage not to the breaking but to the building of relationships.  That in itself, creating a community of mutual care, would go a long way toward alleviating the suffering of our world.

-Joe

the beginning of wisdom

Because I may be called upon to preach whenever we attend Harvest Time Ministries, a small Pentecostal congregation in Mandela Park in Mthatha, I keep myself immersed in scripture by following the Revised Common Lectionary. We also read these--four readings per week--every morning at breakfast before the boys go to school and we go to our office.

The readings from the lectionary may not be appropriate for some Sundays in Mandela Park; I need to keep myself free to speak a word from wherever in the Bible the Spirit might direct me. More commonly, however, the work of the Spirit is in making connections between my preparation in certain texts and the particular needs of a Sunday morning.

One such example comes from two weeks ago. The pastor had informed me in the week leading up to that Sunday that two special events were to occupy the service: a church blessing for a newly married couple and the welcoming of another young couple into positions of leadership in the ministry. I was assigned the marriage blessing; the pastor would do the welcome. However, when the newlyweds did not show, the pastor gave me the other assignment. I had to switch from something I was preparing in my heart from Ephesians 5 to--well, I didn't know what. But what came to me was what I had been reading that week from the lectionary: 1 Kings 3:3-14.

It so happens that 1 Kings 3:3-14 is a most appropriate text for exhorting new leaders; it describes something of a divine commissioning of Solomon to leadership of Israel. The commissioning comes in the form of a test set in a dream of Solomon.

God asks Solomon to ask God what God should give him. Solomon assumes a humble posture in response to the revelation of God, acknowledging God's "steadfast love" in the past, that is, to his father David, and his own inability for so great a task as "leading the people whom you have chosen, a great people, so numerous they cannot be numbered or counted" (v. 8).

Solomon's request pleases God. Solomon asks "only" for the wisdom to "discern between good and evil" in the cause of leading God's great people. Solomon's request for wisdom to do the good and shun the evil is significant in the text in light of that to which it is in opposition--"long life or riches" or "the life of your enemies." God does not want a leader for God's people who looks first to external things, to the things outside oneself, but internally, within his own heart. That is, as in words ascribed to Solomon's very father, David, the leader of Israel, God wants someone who asks God,

"search me and know my heart; test me and know my thoughts. See if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting" (Ps. 139:23-24).

The enemy which God's appointed leader seeks to slay lurks not without but within. The enemies from outside are not the greatest danger to God's people; danger attacks from within.

The leader cannot buy "long life and riches"--prosperity--for the people. Neither can the leader protect the nation through the forcible removal of its enemies. Rather, the leader provides and protects by being who God has called the leader to be.

When confronted by the greatness of the God who "alone is good" (Mk. 10:18), the humble leader, like Solomon in the text, sees himself as he is: "a child", lacking in understanding ("I do not know how to go out or come in", v. 7), in need of the higher wisdom in order to do the good. In the piercing light of perfect love, complete knowledge (omniscience), and total capability (omnipotence), the humble leader rightly fears, for he now sees that perfect love and light cannot abide the bitterness and darkness within his own heart; "God is light, and in him there is no darkness at all" (1 Jn. 1:5). The leader either submits to the God who can cleanse her, thereby saving her life, or clings to her desire for wealth and the life of her enemies, thereby subjecting herself to the destructive cycle of greed and jealousy with those very enemies who seek her life. The leader has only two options: fear God or fear humans.

The latter is the way of mutual destruction. The former is "the beginning of wisdom", the way of peace for the people of God (Ps. 111:10).

-Joe