The Rev. Carol S. Wedell
September 23, 2007

How many of you read advice columns?  Glancing through the Plain Dealer, you have several from which to choose:  Dear Abby, Financial Advice, even a wardrobe consultant!  Magazines abound with advice on a wide range of topics - relationships, money management, ethics, housecleaning, golf and other sports tips - you name it.  If someone has a question about a particular topic, the odds are good that someone is willing to offer his or her two cents on the matter.

My guess is that such columns are so plentiful, because people read them.  If not, it wouldn't be profitable for the publications to keep them.  On one level, it makes sense.  Instead of reading a whole book on a topic, or taking a class, or struggling to figure something out, you can get your question answered quickly - often with a fast and easy solution.

One of my more favorite distributors of advice is Lucy, in Charles Schultz's comic strip, Peanuts.  One comic strip has Charlie Brown sitting in front of Lucy, whose sign reads, "Psychiatric Help, 5 cents.  The doctor is in."  Charlie Brown bares his soul, "Everything seems hopeless.  I'm completely depressed."  Not known for an abundance of empathetic skills, Lucy quickly responds, "Go home, and eat a jelly-bread sandwich folded over.  Five cents, please."  After Charlie Brown departs, Lucy comments, "There are some cures you don't learn in medical school."

Well, there are also some passages of scripture that don't get adequately addressed in seminary - and this morning's reading from Luke would be one of them.  If you found yourself scratching your head this morning and wondering what on earth was going on in this passage, you're not alone!  Those who go to the Bible looking for quick and easy advice would be hard-pressed to find it in this story of the dishonest manager, which is found only in Luke's gospel.

Few passages in scripture have caused as much confusion among Biblical interpreters.  Some suggest that even Luke struggled to make sense of it, adding on somewhat loosely connected statements on faithfulness and money to the parable itself.  Early church theologian, Augustine wrote, ‘I can't believe the story came from the lips of our Lord!"  Amazingly different interpretations have been offered of this one short parable.

I am not going to try and walk you through all of the possibilities this morning.  Candidly, that would take far more time than we have - or certainly more than you're accustomed to in a Sunday morning sermon!  And even if I did, you and I would still not walk away with easy answers or quick solutions. As an online colleague said this week, if scripture were as simple as some people claim, we wouldn't need God, Jesus or the Spirit! (with thanks to Thom Shuman).

Parables, by design, are intended to have us look at things in a different way.  They're like a brain-teaser that challenges us to think outside the box.  Jesus used parables as a way to help people visualize what God's reign on earth looks like. Jesus took every day, common situations or events - then caught people's attention by adding an unexpected twist.  Often, the meaning is clear - although usually more multi-layered with meaning than we admit.  The parable of the dishonest steward, however, is so knotted up that there is no way to untangle it easily.

Prior to telling this parable, Jesus had been addressing the Pharisees and other religious leaders, with stories of the lost and found, parables which underscore God's willingness to welcome those who have squandered everything they have been given.  Now, Jesus turns his attention to the disciples.  That change in audience is important.  This parable isn't addressed to the crowds or to the religious leaders, but to those who are closest to Jesus. He's giving them some surprising advice about how they are to live as his disciples.

As would have been common in Jesus' day, he tells the story of an absentee landlord who has hired a manager to oversee his property.  The rumor mill has been circulating and the rich man hears that the manager has blown it.  The property has been squandered. Whether the manager was "cooking the books" or just incompetent, we don't know.  We do know that the rich man is not happy with the results.

So he calls the manger in and gives him his walking papers. Think Donald Trump on The Apprentice - "you're fired!"  Now in today's world, you would be escorted to your desk, and under supervision would be allowed to get your personal belongings, after which you would promptly be escorted to the door, where your keys would be taken.  Some commentaries suggest that even in Jesus' day, there would have been a similarly quick dismissal.

However, this manager had a small window of opportunity - and he took it.  His quick thinking makes me think that it wasn't for lack of ability that the master's property had been diminished!  The canny manager looks at his situation and knows that something has to be done.   He's too out of shape to do manual labor and is too proud to go on welfare.  This guy has no intention of starving.  So he comes up with a clever plan to insure his own future. 

Still acting as the legal agent for his boss, he sits down with several of those who are in debt to the rich man and brokers some deals.  "You owe him $100 bucks?  Tell you what - give me $50 and we'll call it even."  "You owe him $100? If you give me $80 now, your debt is gone."  As the manager well knows, he now has two new friends - who will be happy to turn the favor around in the days ahead.

Even in today's world, nothing so far is terribly surprising.  Embezzlers are common place.  Looking out for number one is the name of the game.  "Favors" are given to clients or contributors all the time -- even when the "favor" may not be theirs to give. Cheating is prevalent - in schools, in business, in life.  We may not like it, but it is a world we recognize.

Then comes the surprise - and it's not a small one.  The rich man finds out what the manager has done.  Now you would think he would be totally enraged.  You would think this would put him right over the edge.  Since the manager was acting on behalf of the rich man - or so those in debt think - the rich man would have to live with the outcome of those negotiations.  The master would totally lose face and credibility if he tried to reinstate the original amounts.

But instead of anger, we hear words of affirmation - "Great job - you really figured this one out creatively."  Huh?  And we're left wondering if this guy was actually fired after all. 

This is where the commentaries have a field day - offering a myriad of explanations, some so convoluted that I can barely follow the logic.   It certainly appears that Jesus is commending this dishonest manager.   Why?  We expect Jesus to remind us that honesty is the best policy, or that we can't cheat our way into heaven.  We don't expect him to praise immoral and likely illegal actions.  We don't want the swindler to win.

But remember that Jesus used parables to get us to look at something familiar in a different way. Perhaps this guy is praised because he didn't give up when the going got tough.  Perhaps it's because unlike so many of us, when things looked down, he looked forward to the future, not back.  I think it is his creative determination - his shrewdness, if you will, that is being affirmed - not his lack of honesty.

This is the kind of parable that says, "If a guy like this can be so clever for his own sake, how much more should you put all of your creativity and insight to use for things that really matter!"  When we are tempted to simply throw our hands up in the air and say, "there's nothing I can do about it - I'm only one person," this parable suggests that we should use the same kind of smarts that we see being used for dishonest purposes, but use that practical wisdom to help create the kind of world that God desires.

I read this week of Jim Wallis, an evangelical activist who noted how inner-city gangs ruthlessly defend their "turf," and how drug lords mark off a neighborhood and make it theirs.  "I want churches to learn from these guys," he said.  "I want some inner-city churches who will say, ‘This is our turf and we control this neighborhood of the six blocks around our church and we are going to do what's necessary to make sure you don't trample our turf."

Wallis then told a story of one inner-city church which posted some of their little old ladies on each corner in foldout lawn chairs, armed with video cameras and how overnight they changed an entire Detroit neighborhood.  They had no idea of how to work the cameras, but the drug dealers didn't know it.

Those old ladies were not simply savvy to the ways of the world, beating the world at its own game.  Rather, they were determined to move forward toward the reign of God. They firmly believed that God had an investment in the future. That conviction gave them the courage and wisdom to act accordingly. (As told by William Willimon, in a sermon entitled, The Future and What to Do About It, found on the Duke Chapel archive).

This strange, confusing little parable is actually a gentle kick in the rear for those of us who get discouraged when things aren't going as we think they should.  Instead of being timid or fearful about what the future may hold, we're called to take advantage of every opportunity and to put our best and most creative thinking to work - not to save our own skin, as this crooked manager did - but to work toward the kind of world that God has in mind.  This unscrupulous manager basically wouldn't take no for an answer - and neither should we.

Why?  Because ultimately scripture tells us, the future is in God's hands.  This parable offers us some surprising advice -but it's not like the advice you'll find in Dear Abby or even Peanuts.    Yes, we need to dig down and put our best selves out there.  But our confidence doesn't rest in our own ability to pull it through.  Our hope for the future rests in the grace and love and power of God.  That's the kind of hope that allows us to take risks, to be bold and courageous in seeking to be faithful.

William Willimon tells the story of a pastor in Florida, whose once great urban congregation now found itself in a declining neighborhood.  Like many such churches, its membership now lived in the suburbs and commuted in on Sundays.  There were typical city problems, including homeless men who hung around the church.  The church would put locks on the doors, and at night the vagrants would break the locks.  A meeting was held to discuss better security - bigger locks, better doors.  What could be done to protect their building?

"I'm bothered," said one woman on the board, "by the church locking out, and shutting doors, particularly to those in need."
"Well what do you want us to do?" asked one of the members of the board, "just throw open the doors and tell 'em, ‘come on in, help yourself'?"
"Why not?" piped up a voice at the back of the room.
What? "Why not?" it was one of the oldest members of the congregation. "We've been having a tough time attracting folk to this church. Here are people who are so eager to get into the church they break the doors down. Let's let em in."
"I move the question!" said someone else. They took a vote. That night, they left the doors unlocked, wide open. Twenty homeless men showed up. To be sure, there were problems, but gradually the church did what was necessary to accommodate them. "Those men have given new life to our church," the pastor said. "They helped us be a real church." (William Willimon, ibid).

You know, we're a small church. And at times I hear anxiety about the future  -- worries about whether we'll meet a budget, get more children, find younger leadership.  I feel that anxiety at times.  As a denomination, many of us are worried about what the future may hold, what will happen if too many churches or people go elsewhere.  We've been there personally, as well, anxious about security, financial and otherwise. When we get in those situations, it is so easy to pull in and go to defensive posture.  But we miss the point, if we just circle the wagons and hunker down.  If we look to the past, instead of imagining the future as God would have it.  If we truly trust God's leading, the surprising advice of this parable is to be courageous and creative as we tackle the challenges that come. Let's be bold as we move toward a future that God is already creating.