Bloomsbury Central Baptist Church
22 September 2013
Luke 16:1-15 Then Jesus said to the disciples, "There was a rich man who had a manager, and charges were brought to him that this man was squandering his property. 2 So he summoned him and said to him, 'What is this that I hear about you? Give me an accounting of your management, because you cannot be my manager any longer.' 3 Then the manager said to himself, 'What will I do, now that my master is taking the position away from me? I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg. 4 I have decided what to do so that, when I am dismissed as manager, people may welcome me into their homes.' 5 So, summoning his master's debtors one by one, he asked the first, 'How much do you owe my master?' 6 He answered, 'A hundred jugs of olive oil.' He said to him, 'Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it fifty.' 7 Then he asked another, 'And how much do you owe?' He replied, 'A hundred containers of wheat.' He said to him, 'Take your bill and make it eighty.' 8 And his master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly; for the children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light. 9 And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes. 10 "Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much; and whoever is dishonest in a very little is dishonest also in much. 11 If then you have not been faithful with the dishonest wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches? 12 And if you have not been faithful with what belongs to another, who will give you what is your own? 13 No slave can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth." 14 The Pharisees, who were lovers of money, heard all this, and they ridiculed him. 15 So he said to them, "You are those who justify yourselves in the sight of others; but God knows your hearts; for what is prized by human beings is an abomination in the sight of God.
Amos 8:4-7 Hear this, you
that trample on the needy, and bring to ruin the poor of the land, 5 saying, "When will the new
moon be over so that we may sell grain; and the sabbath, so that we may offer
wheat for sale? We will make the ephah small and the shekel great, and practice
deceit with false balances, 6
buying the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals, and selling the
sweepings of the wheat." 7
The LORD has sworn by the pride of Jacob: Surely I will never forget any of
their deeds.
A Story – Based on Luke 16:1-15
I was born into a family that loved God.
In
an unbroken line from Abraham to me,
my
forbears had sought to serve faithfully the Lord who has saved us.
The weight of my Jewish heritage sat on my
shoulders like a golden cloak
–
surrounding all that I ever sought to do or be,
with
a glory and a brilliance that guided my very thoughts.
Since early childhood I had learned to love
the Law,
with
all its wisdom and grace.
Its commands lit up the path of my own
life,
as
I sought to love the Lord my God
with
all my heart, with all my mind,
with
all my soul, and with all my strength.
I suppose it was inevitable that I would
end up entering the priesthood.
Ever
since I could remember, I had wanted nothing more
than
to serve the Lord with everything I was;
and
no other occupation seemed to offer the same possibilities as being a priest.
The opportunity to spend my days in
full-time service of the Lord,
being
recognised as one of those whose lives
were
dedicated wholeheartedly to his will,
was
something that I could not afford to turn down.
So it was that when I reached adult-hood,
at the age of 12,
I
went on, for further education, to the big synagogue
in
the town near where I grew up.
It was at synagogue school that I learned
of the different orders of priesthood,
and
I resolved early on that I was going to be the best.
If I was going to dedicate my life to the
Lord,
then
it was going to be done properly.
Not for me some half-hearted service,
diluted
with the day-to-day drudgery of employment.
Not for me some mediocre religion
which
consisted of a life of compromise and hypocrisy.
I was going to serve in my master’s house,
and
I was going to do it the very best that I knew how.
I am sure that you can understand this
desire, can’t you?
After
all, what is the point in knowing the one true and living God
if
we then go on to live half our lives as if he didn’t exist?
I was never able to understand how people
could profess to follow the Lord,
yet
at the same time live their lives as if they had never heard of him
–
going about their daily business,
while
confining God to Saturday worship and holy-days.
If
God exists, as I fervently believe he does,
surely
he deserves more than this?
I resolved to give him everything!
He
was going to reign supreme in every area of my life
-
in my behaviour, in my relationships, in everything…
If
I was going to be a priest, I was going to be the best.
So
I began my training as a Pharisee.
The life of a priest has much to commend
it.
I
can think of no other way of living
that
combines all the elements contained within the priesthood.
The
education is second to none.
I
was trained to think in ways that I had never imagined possible.
I
understood the Law of the Lord,
and
spent many years learning to apply it to every area of life.
I
learned how it could be interpreted
to
cover just about everything that it is possible for humans to do,
and
this became my delight.
To show people how God’s claim on their
lives
could
affect every waking hour of their existence.
And to be paid for doing it!
What
more could a man ask for?
I would have done it for free,
but
having no independent resources,
I
accepted the wages that were due to me,
in
order that I might be free to pursue my calling.
Sometimes I thought I must be the richest
man on earth!
I
loved my life, I was free from the burden of financial want,
and
I was able to devote myself to serving the Lord whom I loved.
But
over and above this, I was entrusted with the great privilege
of
helping others to serve him also.
Can you not share in my delight?
God
had truly been gracious to me,
giving
me the means and the opportunity to serve him
and
share him with others.
Would
you not also desire to live your life as I have lived mine,
un-compromised,
devoted, set aside?
Every
area of my existence permeated with the Law of God.
From the moment I awoke to the moment I
shut my eyes at night,
it
was my delight to obey and live the law,
modelling
for others how it can be done.
By my public prayers, by my attire,
by
my clear and eloquent exposition of the scriptures,
I
enabled others to see how pure a life devoted to the Lord can be.
Of course, the demands of public piety can
take their toll after a while.
The
exterior does not always match up to the interior.
Sometimes I wondered if I was just a hollow
shell,
projecting
the Lord for others,
while
inside I struggled as they struggled.
But the nature of my calling was to be a
focus for the community.
I
was set aside to be strong and faithful
where
others were weak and faithless.
My
service to God was to be found in my service to others.
So I persisted in my prayers, in my careful
dress, in my teaching.
And
still they supported me in it.
I
was truly blessed by the Lord.
I wasn’t the only teacher to be found in Palestine
And
part of my responsibility was listening to, and debating with,
other
exponents of scripture.
Weighing
what they said, and applying it for the community that I served.
This was how I first came across Jesus of
Nazareth.
A
strange man: compelling, yet disconcerting.
Not trained as a priest at all,
I
believe he spent most of his life as a carpenter,
yet he had a command of scripture that I
would have given my right arm for!
As was the case with some teachers,
he
rarely preached sermons.
He
taught by telling stories.
Many professional teachers found this
repellent,
that
someone would reduce the exposition of the law
to
common story-telling.
Yet I found them interesting.
A
creative way of communicating his message.
So I often used to make the effort to stop
by
and
listen to him when he addressed the crowds.
I often found myself wondering if I could
make use of his technique
to
enhance my own teaching style.
It was on just such an occasion
that
he told his story about the dishonest steward.
This man had been entrusted with handling
his master’s affairs,
and
had eventually been called to account
for
his handling of the wealth he had been trusted with.
Just when it looked as if he about to have
the rug pulled out from under him,
since
he had been squandering his master’s property,
he
pulled a solution out of the bag which saved his neck.
Caught in his squandering of his master’s
goods,
the
steward retrieved the situation by yet further squandering.
He was truly a shrewd man, this steward,
because
if he had attempted to move wealth in his own direction,
the
master could surely have done something about getting it back.
But the steward did the exact opposite
–
he acted for the benefit of others,
thereby
ensuring that they owed him a debt of gratitude,
which
he could then call in when he was out of his job.
A very fine story, I thought.
The
steward had been so shrewd in his handling of his affairs,
that
even his master had to grudgingly commend him in his cleverness.
Even after the steward had been found out
in his crime,
with
his number clearly up,
he
still found a way to swindle his master yet again right under his nose,
and
in such away that the master, even though on the spot
and
alerted to the steward’s ways,
could
do nothing to restore the situation.
A clever, realistic story,
and
the application, I thought, was clear:
We are to be worldly-wise in the way we
deal with the world’s riches,
and
heavenly-wise in the way we deal with heaven’s riches.
Let us use the wealth of this world
to
further our own higher purposes,
so
that we can be free to follow the Lord’s calling on our lives.
You can see how this story would appeal to
me.
After
all, was I not doing just what this Jesus was suggesting?
I was living my life holding heaven in one
hand
and
the world in the other.
I was dedicated to the Lord, and committed
to serving him,
and
I also had the financial support
and
consequent freedom which enabled me to do this.
I gratefully received the money that came
to me,
treating
it as if it was from the Lord himself,
and I used it so that I could fulfil my
calling as priest,
dedicated
to the service of the Lord from whom all riches come.
Not for me the disgrace of digging or
begging for my living.
I
used what my master gave me,
to
buy myself the freedom to fulfil my calling.
I liked Jesus’ story,
with
its realistic recognition of the nature of the world
in
which we find ourselves.
After all, which of us is totally free from
dishonest wealth?
All
the money we touch
must
have at some point passed through dishonest hands.
Who
can ever claim that their bankers have behaved with ethical integrity?
We
don’t ask them to – they would earn us no interest if they did!
This
Jesus seemed to me to have a very firm grasp on the nature of reality.
Use
worldly wealth for higher purposes.
Purify
it by our use of it!
These thoughts were going through my mind
as
I stood mulling over the story he had just told,
and it was then that I noticed him looking
at me.
He seemed to be concentrating on me
particularly.
I
have to say that I found his slightly knowing smile most disconcerting,
and
his dark brown eyes bore straight through me.
It
was almost as if he and I were the only people there.
He started to quote proverbs:
“Whoever
can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much,
whoever
is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much”,
“if
you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth,
who
will trust you with true riches?”,
“No
servant can serve two masters”,
“you
cannot serve both God and money”.
What had this to do with me!?
Was
he implying that my loyalties were
divided?
Was
he saying that I could not be
trusted?
Me!
who all my life had sought to be the one who got it right,
in
the midst of a world that was getting it wrong.
Me!
who fought against compromise
and
championed integrity.
Me!
who prided myself on combining a firm grasp on reality
with
an unswerving love for the Lord.
Me!
with my realistic approach
towards
the benefits and rewards of this world.
How dare
he?!
I looked back at him, and as I did so I
could feel my heart growing angry
and
my gaze growing defiant.
A slow boiling started in the pit of my
stomach and rose through me like a fire.
Who did this man think he was?!
This
uneducated carpenter who told stories,
this
simplistic naïve fool with no grasp on reality!
What
was his point?
Why
had he told the story of the dishonest steward?
And
why did he keep looking at me?
Why didn’t he turn his gaze to others in the
crowd
– there were many there who were far more
compromised than I.
There
were many there who never even attempted to serve God.
And yet here was I, dedicated to the
service of the Lord,
and
he was condemning me!
But his words gnawed away at me,
sapping
my self-confidence.
As is often the way with those who appear
so sure of themselves,
uncertainty
always lurks not far beneath the surface,
and the expression of his face wasn’t so
much one of condemnation
as
it was a look of pity and compassion.
Could
it be that I had misunderstood his story?
Could it be that I had misunderstood something
about my own life?
Could
it be that I was wrong about what God was asking of me?
But then the anger returned,
as
I realised that this Jesus seemed to be implying
that
I was hopelessly compromised.
This simpleton without two shekels to rub
together
seemed
to be implying that I had sold out.
That I was serving money not God.
That
I was not fit to be trusted with heavenly riches.
But what does it mean to be trustworthy
with worldly wealth anyway?
What
was he getting at?
Had I not done as the steward in his story
had done?
And
had not the steward been commended?
And then I stopped.
And
a cold sweat started to break out on my forehead
and
ran down my spine like a chill.
I realised that that was not the point of Jesus’
story.
The point this carpenter was making
was
to do, not with human wealth at all,
but
with eternal riches.
I was using my wealth here and now.
Living
in relative luxury, buying myself my freedom to live now.
Everything about me was focussed on the
present.
And
I justified my existence on the basis of my life today.
Believing that all the good things in my
life
were
mine by right,
given
to me by God as his response to my faithful service.
But what if, just what if, none of this meant anything to God.
What
if my life today, with its freedom and ease of living,
was
worthless in God’s sight?
What if God had trusted me with such wealth
and privilege for a higher purpose,
and
I had been dedicating my life to simply squandering it on myself,
and then publicly justifying my actions in
the sight of others
by
claiming that I was doing God’s will.
That surely would be the worst kind of
waste!
And
it would make me the worst kind of hypocrite!
Then, truly I would be like the steward in
the story,
but
the steward before master caught up with him.
Using his position to live a life of ease
and luxury,
squandering
his master’s wealth on himself.
What if this was where I fitted into Jesus’
story:
a
privileged and wealthy man
making
the most of my life and my opportunities,
believing
that the master had entrusted all this to me,
for
me to use as I saw fit.
But what would it do to my life, to the way
I lived,
if
the master still wanted me to squander his wealth,
but not on myself.
What if the master wanted me to waste his
wealth on others?
What
would it look like if I became like the steward
after
the master had caught up with him?
What
if the Lord wants me to take his wealth,
not
just my material prosperity, but all the riches of life and eternity,
and
start giving it away freely to others?
What if the purpose of having
is
not to have and enjoy,
but
to give away
to
the benefit of others.
What if the master is more pleased with
servants
who
win him friends by generosity and grace,
than he is by those who win him profits
by
protectionist practices.
Is it possible that God could be that rich?
Is
it possible that God could be that generous?
This would certainly be a different kind of
God.
This
would be a God who loves and gives, and gives and loves.
A God whose eternal treasure-house is
inexhaustible.
Maybe the steward in Jesus’ story was
commended
because
he finally realised
that
by squandering his master’s wealth on others,
he was exchanging it for eternal
riches.
Substituting
his here-and-now treasures
for
assets that endure
Trading
his present luxurious living
for
a welcome and a home that has everlasting value.
What if that was why Jesus kept looking at
me?
What
if the Lord is displeased with the
way I have used
that
which has been entrusted to me?
What if he wants me to squander his wealth
on others?
Is
God really that rich?
Is
God really that generous?
Questions
for consideration
Is wealth always dishonest?
Who is wealthy?
How would God have us use the money and
resources we have?
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