Bible Text: St Luke 16:1–13| Preacher: Rev. Andrew Richard
On the surface this is a very strange parable. It makes sense that a man who was committing fraud loses his job. It makes sense that if he had no scruples to begin with, then he’d have no problem committing more fraud to try to get himself out of his problem. It makes sense that the master’s debtors would sit down with the man they still thought was the manager and gladly follow his bidding to reduce their debts. And then it would make sense if the master, when he found out what his former manager had done, had him arrested or killed. But no, instead “the master commended the unjust steward because he had dealt shrewdly.” What? What is Jesus commending here?
Jesus states it outright. The steward is commended “because he had dealt shrewdly.” Now we have to understand what that word “shrewdly” means. It’s not a word we often use in everyday speech, and so it ends up being vaguely colored with various shades of smart or sly or slick or swindling. It’s also the only time this Greek word is translated with the word “shrewd,” so we get the impression that this is the only place in the Bible where Jesus talks this way. Fortunately, the Greek word used here comes up in a couple other key places in the New Testament that give us a clearer sense of its meaning.
At the end of the Sermon on the Mount Jesus says, “Therefore whoever hears these sayings of Mine, and does them, I will liken him to a wise man [a shrewd man, same Greek word] who built his house on the rock: and the rain descended, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it did not fall, for it was founded on the rock.” (Mt. 7:24-25). In the Parable of the Ten Virgins Jesus says, “Five of them were foolish, and five were wise [or shrewd]. For when the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them, but the shrewd took flasks of oil with their lamps” (Mt. 25:2-4). What was commendable about the man who built his house on rock? What was commendable about the virgins who took oil for their lamps? They had a long-term goal and understood that they had to act a certain way today if they wanted that kind of tomorrow. A house built on sand will last while it’s nice today, but what if the builder wants it to last next month during storms? The lamp might be lit now because it has oil in it, but what if I also want it to be lit later when that oil is consumed? The traditional virtue that Jesus commends here is called “prudence,” which at its core means, “looking ahead.” The man who built on rock was prudent, and the virgins who took oil were prudent, and the steward who cooked the books was prudent. He knew what he wanted tomorrow, so he acted accordingly today, and that is a virtue every Christian should practice, with an eye always on eternal life.
Now the prudent man in the reading was an immoral scumbag, and this leads to the question, if Jesus wanted to hold before us someone who exemplified prudence, why did He pick a scoundrel and not someone more admirable? He explains this too: “For the sons of this world are more prudent in dealing with their own generation than the sons of light” (Lk. 16:8). What’s the world’s goal? Generally, to get lots of money. And you’ve seen the singlemindedness, the all-consuming compulsion with which the world pursues it. The pagan knows that he can’t serve two masters. He’s going to be devoted to the one and despise the other. He’s going to love money and hate God.
When we see the fervor and devotion with which the world pursues its goals, we should feel ashamed, because, as Jesus says, there is a sense in which the sons of this world are more prudent than the sons of light. The pagan wants money, and he conducts life accordingly. Who among us is as devoted to his God as the pagan is to his? Which Christian here hasn’t felt the inward conflict between love of God and love of money? There have been times in your life when you have been focused very keenly on your goal of attaining eternal life. And there have been times when you have gotten off in the weeds, distracted from the end, caught up in pursuing things that serve a goal and a god that aren’t yours.
So you beat your breast, and say, “God, have mercy on me, a sinner,” because the true God is a God of mercy, unlike the false god of money, the god Mammon. A ten dollar bill won’t become a twenty dollar bill if you pray to Mammon hard enough. It doesn’t care about you at all. Mammon will string you along, trying to get you to trust in it, appearing trustworthy, and then being fickle and playing hard to get, disappointing you, failing you when you were counting on it the most. What a stupid god. The world may be fervent in its devotion, but it’s a devotion to folly and death. Your God is far greater. “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, that you through His poverty might become rich” (2 Cor. 8:9). “In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace” (Eph. 1:7). Can money redeem the life of man? Not a bit, as it says in Psalm 49, “None of them can by any means redeem his brother, nor give to God a ransom for him—for the redemption of their souls is costly, and it shall cease forever—that he should continue to live eternally, and not see the Pit” (Ps. 49:6-9). Our redemption is costly, too costly for man, yet that redemption shall cease―it has ceased, has been paid, not because man can afford it, but because Jesus has settled the account with His holy blood.
This good news should enkindle in us the highest and most fervent devotion, and it does, according to the new man. The reason we’re torn in our devotion is because we’re Christians: we have received the Holy Spirit in Baptism, and yet we still have the sinful flesh hanging around our necks, and so as it says in Galatians 5, “the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for these are opposed to each other, to keep you from doing the things you want to do” (Gal. 5:17). The reason the pagan is so singleminded in his pursuit of money is because he doesn’t have the Holy Spirit, but is subject to the passions of the flesh. He may be prudent in directing his life according to his ultimate goal and desire, but his prudence is limited in the worst sort of way. Jesus says, “The sons of this world are more prudent in dealing with their own generation.” Their prudence only covers this life, and does not glimpse a wink past it. The Christian is truly prudent, because by the revelation of the Scriptures he sees farther forward, through time and into eternity, and the Christian orients his life toward the greatest goal. We go about life with knowledge of sin and death and eternity, and with hope in Christ to save us, and that shapes everything.
So as we see the fervor with which the world pursues its deadly goals, we should feel a certain indignation, and direct it toward our goal of attaining eternal life: shunning those things that would weigh us down and hinder our purpose, ripping out the thorns that would grow up with the Word and choke it, doing as St. Paul does in Philippians 3: “forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 3:13-14).
Our hope in Christ changes how we view our money in this life. First, we recognize that it’s not ultimately our money. We are stewards of God’s riches. He possesses everything, and we are merely managers of another’s goods: holding things in trust, accountable for their use. Since it’s God’s money and God’s stuff, we’re to use it in a God-pleasing way: supporting the Gospel, taking care of the daily needs of our households, serving our neighbor. Second, we recognize that money isn’t our ultimate good, because it doesn’t last, and because it cannot purchase that which we need most. Money is sometimes here, sometimes gone, as Solomon says, “Will you set your eyes on that which is not? For riches certainly make themselves wings; they fly away like an eagle toward heaven” (Prov. 23:5). And when we die, it doesn’t matter how rich we are: we can’t buy off Death, and we can’t take anything with us, as it says in Proverbs 11, “Riches do not profit in the day of wrath, but righteousness delivers from death” (Prov. 11:4), and that righteousness is the righteousness of Christ. He is our ultimate good. Third, we recognize that, while money itself will not last eternally, we can do things with money that do last eternally. This is Christian prudence when it comes to money: using it now while it lasts to serve our eternal goal. Jesus speaks of this in the reading: “I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous wealth, so that when it fails they may receive you into the eternal dwellings” (Lk. 16:9). Money won’t last forever, but people will, either enjoying eternal life with Christ, or else suffering in the eternal fire.
Now if God converted people apart from means, if He simply zapped men from heaven like Zeus hurling lightning bolts, then money couldn’t accomplish anything enduring. But God has chosen to save men through the means of grace: through the preaching of the Gospel, through the administration of the Sacraments. To point to a very concrete example: even though the bread and wine we use for communion aren’t particularly expensive, they do cost money. If nobody buys bread and wine using the money God has given him, then we don’t have the Sacrament. This is not to say that God has set a price on His grace. It says in Isaiah 55, “Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price” (Is. 55:1). We should always think of God’s grace as a gift, because it is. The money with which we pay pastors, and purchase Bibles and communion elements, and pay the water bill so we can fill the baptismal font―that money is itself a gift from God. So we shouldn’t doubt God’s grace, but we should delight in the fact that God has so arranged things that we can use money for eternal purposes to support the means of grace, and that such use of money receives commendation in heaven not only from our Lord, but also from those whom we benefited.
Picture that scene. You have just died. The money that God had entrusted to you is suddenly no longer at your disposal but has gone to others. You realize with joy and relief that the temptation of Mammon is gone forever, and you experience for the first time and forevermore singleminded, wholehearted devotion to your Lord who saved you. You appear before Christ, and hear those delightful words, “Well done, good and faithful servant” (Mt. 25:21). And then a group of people embraces you, some of whom you know, some of whom you don’t, and they thank you for using unrighteous Mammon to spread the righteousness of Christ, for supporting the church where they heard the Word of God, for supporting the school where they learned about Jesus, for making sure the Gospel would continue to be heard in the place where they lived. It would be an awkward moment if there were the possibility of pride or flattery, but there won’t be. It will simply be honest gratitude, and your response, and rightly so, will be to give all glory to Him who entrusted the money to you. Live now for that day, and may our Lord Jesus Christ, who purchased you and enriched you with His blood, keep you in faith and love until then. Amen.