Creekside Church Sermon of September 23, 2001 "One Weird Parable " Luke 16:1-13	Rev. David Bibbee
Send this sermon to a friend

Jerry Yellin was running late. He hated being late, and on this particular day he could ill afford it. He was meeting an architect named Rick Reilley who worked for the city development department. His approval was necessary if Jerry was to build a housing project. En route he got lost in an urban maze of one-way streets. More of his attention was focused on street signs than on the road before him. WHOP! He hit something. Looking in the rear view mirror he saw a large dog, dead on the street. He ran to a house and rang the bell. No one home. He ran to the next house, rang the bell and a young woman answered. "I just killed a dog and need to call the police. May I use your phone?" She looked to the street and said, "That's my dog."

It took her awhile to calm down, then she graciously offered him a cup of coffee while they waited for the police. As he sat down he saw a Dale Carnegie book on the table. Jerry was the manager for the area Carnegie course and knew everyone who was enrolled. "Who's taking the course?" he asked. "My husband," she replied. "Really? Who's your husband?" "Rick Reilley," she replied. E-Gads! He just killed the dog of the man whose approval he needed for his project. He told Mrs. Reilley he had an appointment with her husband, and asked if she would call and explain why he was late. He arrived at City Hall, and as he walked down the corridor he saw the architect coming toward him with a pronounced frown. He grabbed Jerry by the shoulders, gazed at him, then gave him a bear hug saying, "You've done us a great favor, Jerry. Our dog was old, blind, and had cancer and neither my wife nor I could bring ourselves to put him to sleep. Thank you for doing it for us."

It sounds weird to thank someone who just killed your dog. People who do questionable or destructive deeds usually are not praised for it. But this is what is going in a parable Jesus told. In it Jesus seems to applaud un-Jesus-like behavior. The parable of the dishonest steward is not one of Jesus' most beloved. As we read through Luke, we usually skip this parable. We are embarrassed Jesus told it and are unsure of what to make of it. It knocks us off balance… which is why Jesus told it.

There was a rich man who had a steward. We already have a picture in mind. The rich man probably made money hand over fist off the employees like the steward who probably only made minimum wage. Maybe the steward will put one over on Mr. Money. We love rooting for the underdog. Apparently other employees overheard something the steward said around the water cooler, and reported it to their boss, who called the steward into his office. "It's come to my attention that you've been wasting my goods." The Greek word for waste used here is the same word used to describe the prodigal son "wasting" his inheritance. "I don't tolerate carelessness in my company. You're finished! Clean out your desk, and before you go, show me the books."

The steward had to do some quick thinking. He couldn't dig ditches, his back wouldn't take it. He wasn't going to draw unemployment. He was too proud, and besides, it wasn't enough money with his oldest starting college in the fall. He would need to get on somebody's good side if he was going to make it, so he went to customers with outstanding accounts. "What do you owe Mr. Big?" When they told him, he said, "Tell you what. Sign this document that says you owe half that much and we'll call it even." The steward had cost the company revenue. Then he swindled his boss even more by writing off debts.

Now things get weird. The boss discovered what his ex-employee had done and he commended him for it. That 's commend… not condemn. What if you had been the boss? Would you have congratulated the guy who swindled you? I don't think so. But here is a boss who laughed at his losses. "I've got to hand it to you. You're good under pressure. Clever. Crafty. Calculating. Shrewd." This is NOT how we would work. But Jesus makes things weirder by telling the disciples and us as well, "You should be like the steward."

We read the parable and think we know where it is going. Jesus will say this is no way for a disciple to behave. Be a better person than the dishonest steward. Then he will finish with a moral to apply to our lives. But Jesus said nothing of the sort. "The sons of this world are more shrewd in their dealings than the sons of light. Make friends with unrighteous mammon so that when things get tight you'll be taken care of. Let the dishonest steward be your role model."

What's going on here? Luke was also uncomfortable with this parable. He tried to soften the blunt force trauma by including other sayings of Jesus like, "He who is faithful in little is faithful over much," and "You can't serve God and mammon." But it's not apparent how these texts relate to the parable. But we can begin to understand Jesus when we separate the steward's business ethics from his response to a personal crisis. In the case of this parable, there is something positive even in unscrupulous behavior.

For example, a Rabbi told his students that a friend had been arrested for burglary. "My friend the burglar is a good teacher." "How can that be?" the students asked. "Every day he teaches me something. When we are sleeping, he is busy working. When others go about their business chattering aimlessly, he is quiet and adept. While others carefully lock doors, he skillfully opens them. My friend… he is a true teacher and artist." The Rabbi was saying don't do what he does, but learn from the manner in which he is going about it.

What did the steward do when the boss said, "You're fired!"? Did he curl up in the fetal position and whimper? He felt threatened, but he immediately went to work doing what he could to make the best of his situation.

In the days since the horror of last Tuesday we have heard our leaders say, "Terrorism will not lock us in a prison of fear. They will not bring us to our knees. They will not bring our economy to a halt. Your terror will not determine our future. The people of America will stand proud and strong." I suppose it's important to hear words like these because there is a strong tendency in the face of crisis to retreat and protect ourselves and sometimes, concede defeat.

The parable of the dishonest steward could also be called "A Crook in Crisis." A bomb exploded in the middle of his routine, predictable life. The order crafted over time shattered. That which he had relied upon was being abruptly taken away. It's one thing to prepare yourself for a major challenge, when you know its coming, but the events we file under the category of crisis come without warning and find us unprepared:

You are summoned to the office of a supervisor. "You have served the corporation well, but we are going in a different direction now, and your expertise will no longer be needed."

The phone rings. The voice on the other end says, "Your son was in an accident. Come to the hospital immediately."

The doctor enters the consultation room where you await your test results. You remember nothing he says except for the words, "You have cancer."

What could possibly have prepared us for the shock of watching two airliners slicing the World Trade Center like an exploding knife?

The losses are devastating. Over six thousand people are missing and presumed dead. Lost are friends, family, employees, whole companies, buildings, innocence, security, and the notion that we are in control of our lives. We cannot choose what happens to us. We can however choose our response to what happens to us. This is one of the lessons contained in this wonderfully odd parable.

The steward faced a frightening future if he did nothing. But he had faith, if in nothing more than his ability to wheel and deal and find some way to take advantage of the situation. "Take note of the wheeler dealer," Jesus said. "Watch how the children of this world turn their problems into profits. How much more able to creatively cope with crises are those who believe that the future belongs to God?" The children of light do not rely on their ability to turn life's lemons into lemonade. They rely upon the faith that God is in the thick of life, directing and redeeming events in ways we cannot see or know.

Barbara Taylor poses an arresting question. "Do we trust God to act in all the events of our lives or only in the ones that meet with our approval?" Life can be frightening. Tomorrow may bring trouble. It may bring terror, but whatever it brings us, we don't need to fold because come the end of tomorrows, we believe all life belongs to God. Life is sometimes a terror, so is following God when we haven't a clue about how things will turn out.

Imagine the terror Abraham with his knife in hand about to sacrifice his only son Isaac. Imagine the terror for Jesus who was obedient to the point of being nailed to a cross. Did such moments meet with their approval? "But God intervened," you say. "Made things right. Provided a ram to sacrifice instead of Isaac. Rose Jesus from the dead." That's right… but they didn't know the outcome. In the face of terror all they had to go on was their faith and trust.

The dishonest steward had a cloud of crisis hanging over him, and went to work doing something about it. "We should be so shrewd," Jesus says, "not because we finally trust in ourselves, but trust that God holds the reigns of tomorrow though terror grips today." We are being tried and tested. The response is not resignation but confidence. And the belief that we will be stronger for having faced it.

Once there were two starlings perched in a tree on the shore of Lake Michigan. One was a seasoned veteran who had been around a long time. The other was getting his first look at life. Suddenly, a tremendous storm formed over the lake rushing toward shore. The old bird said, "Hang on tight, junior. This is going to be a tough one!" The storm was so strong it uprooted the tree by the roots and sent the starlings furiously flapping inland. Fifty miles inland they landed side by side on another tree. "I hate storms!" said the old bird. "Not me," said junior. "If that one hadn't come along, I never would have know I could fly."

All of the sermons that have appeared in text form on our Web Site since August 1996 are available here in the On-Line version. Use the search engine below to find the sermon you want. You may search by date, sermon title, or content. The sermons are full-text searchable.

Sermon Search:



Exact phrase    All words (AND)    Any word (OR)