Lessons from the Dishonest Manager

Ordinary Time XXV; September 23, 2007

Luke 16:1-13

 

When I read this story in the chapel at Princeton Seminary, one of my fellow students accosted me after the service. “Is that really in the Bible?” he said. I laughed. In retrospect, I realize I could have been offended that he thought I would make up a story and pass it off as Scripture, but this story is so outrageous that his reaction is perfectly understandable. It’s not every day that Jesus tells a story in which the hero is a scoundrel.

 

Let’s go through the story again; I choose not to assume that you necessarily got it the first time. And a story this good bears repeating.

 

It may interest you to know that Jesus has just finished telling the story of the Prodigal Son, one of his Greatest Hits. It’s the end of chapter 15; the story of the Dishonest Manager is the beginning of chapter 16. Does he descend from the sublime to the ridiculous? Or, remembering that he tells the story of the Prodigal Son in order to poke all the good and righteous people in the eye, does he tell this story in order to pour salt on their wounds?

 

“There was a rich man who had a manager.” From the rest of the story, I assume that this is what Jesus has in mind: the owner of an estate, who does not live on the estate, but who leases the land to several tenant farmers. The manager’s job is to look after the accounts, collect the rent (which is usually paid in kind, not in money) and generally keep an eye on the boss’s interests. Some of you rent land for your farming and others own land that you rent out to others. It puts me in mind of Mary McConnell, who owned the Taggart Farm south of here. She looked in on it from time to time, but generally trusted the tenant to manage it. In Jesus’ story, the rich man owns enough land to support several farm families, so he has a manager to look after it for him.

 

And the manager is a crook. It’s of no interest to the story what he did wrong but the owner eventually finds out and determines to fire the guy. He tells him to clear out his desk and settle his accounts, because he’s out of there. The boss is somewhat gentle with him, compared to some. I heard about a Vice President at NCR Corporation who ticked off the President and found out he didn’t have a job when he arrived at work one morning and found his desk in front of the headquarters building – in flames. The President had ordered the desk set out front and set on fire. That’s one for National Boss’s Day, isn’t it?

 

So, while settling his accounts, the manager has a heart-to-heart with himself. If he were a good guy – the sort of person you expect in one of Jesus’ stories – he would repent of his wrongdoing, beg for forgiveness, and be given another chance. Not in this story. He says to himself, “What am I going to do? With my reputation, no one is going to give me another job in management. Blue-collar work definitely doesn’t suit me, because I’ve been a paper-pusher for so long I can’t even lift a shovel. And I do have my pride: I’m not going to get a tin cup and sit on the street corner selling pencils. So what shall I do?”

 

He figures it out, of course. What’s a little more graft, between business associates? While he’s settling the accounts, he tells the tenants, “Here, change the amount you owe. Cross out 100 and write in 50; cross out 100 and write in 80.” What’s he doing? Oh, but he’s clever. There’s an outside chance that he’s trying to make the boss look good. Perhaps the boss has been adding interest to the debts, which is against the Bible’s law, and so the manager thinks he’ll make the boss look like a good guy by canceling the interest. But that’s not really likely. Probably what he’s actually doing is simply changing how much they owe – downward.

 

And see how clever he is. He gets them to change it themselves, so it’s in their handwriting. And why does he do it? Perhaps he figures he’ll make them so grateful that they will let him live off their good-will for the rest of his life. Sure, why not? Just go from one tenant to another who appreciate that he’s given them a break on their rent. Or perhaps he’s even more devious: perhaps he figures that if they don’t look after him then he can blackmail them. Extortion means never having to say you’re sorry, I guess.

 

The boss finds out what the manager has done. And how does he react? You know, I really suspect Jesus was pulling the disciples’ legs big time, at this point. Think about it: if you were about to fire one of your subordinates, and he quickly feathered his nest by cheating you even more, how would you react? Jail sounds too good for him. But what does the boss in Jesus’ story do? He praises the dishonest manager for being so shrewd! What, is the boss an even bigger crook, that he recognizes slime when he sees it in another? No wonder my schoolmate thought I had made this up, rather than reading it from the Bible – although I have never been clever enough to make up a story as fantastic as this one. My story of Trudy giving flowers to a dragon is more believable than Jesus’ story of the dishonest manager. Don’t you tell me Jesus doesn’t know how to have fun with a story.

 

So, what’s the lesson from the story? That’s part of the problem: Luke is so befuddled by it that he adds four morals to the story. Which one Jesus originally told is difficult to decide. Besides, the lessons do appear in the Gospels in other places, so they are surely legitimate teachings of Jesus. But which one is the lesson of the Dishonest Manager? It’s impossible to tell, so let’s just talk about all four of them, briefly.

 

1. “The children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light.” (v. 8) You can almost hear Jesus sighing. “Why can’t you people be as smart about things as the business-people are?” No, Jesus is not advocating cheating on our bills or lying to our bosses. But why be foolish about things? When I was doing some volunteer work for a Presbytery, trying to help out a small church, I was horrified to discover that all of their money was in a checking account that was not bearing interest. My colleagues and I never convinced them to invest very shrewdly, but at least we got them to put some of their money in a savings account that bore a little interest.

 

Christians don’t have to be stupid about money. For the sake of the Church’s ministry, it should be invested wisely, used wisely – all right, “shrewdly,” to use Jesus’ word. But I think he has more than just money in mind, although money is of course part of it. What do the “children of light” have to deal with, most of all? Truth, goodness, beauty, human well-being – we don’t have to be stupid about those things. As William Barclay put it, if only Christians were as eager and ingenious in our attempts to obtain goodness as others are in their attempts to gain money and comfort, we would be much better people than we are.

 

2. “Make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes.” (v. 9) When Jesus says, “dishonest wealth,” I don’t think he’s encouraging us to start robbing banks to support the Church’s ministry. One of my predecessors in Miami, Arizona learned that one of the Church’s large contributors was the proprietress of a, well, sophisticated establishment of the night. I’m not sure how long the Madame had been contributing before he figured it out, but when he did he told her that the Church didn’t need her money any longer, thank you.

 

Jesus seems simply to be assuming the cynical attitude that all money is essentially rotten and anyone who has large amounts of it has probably done something unethical to get it. So, “dishonest wealth.” Thus, the second lesson is to use it to make friends where it matters. But remember, where does it matter, in the mind of Jesus? In the Kingdom of Heaven. So, how do you make friends in the Kingdom of Heaven? The clue is in Matthew, chapter 25 and other places. You feed the hungry, you give drink to the thirsty, you visit the sick and those in prison, you provide clothes to those who need them – you can go on from there. Jesus seems to suggest that when the Judgment Day comes you had best have several recipients of your generosity to vouch for you.

 

This is a good time for an almost-tangent. Although your giving to the Church had better not be the extent of your generosity, it should be a major part of it. And one way you can make friends with later generations is to leave something to the Church in your will. We are in the midst of the largest transfer of wealth from one generation to another in history. You may have noticed what younger generations are doing with the money, and they are certainly not giving to the Church with the same generosity as their forebears. So leaving a portion of your estate to the Church for the Endowment Fund, where it will be invested so that the income can continue the ministry of the Church is one way to make friends by “dishonest wealth” with future generations.

 

3. “If you have not been faithful with the dishonest wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches?” A good boss doesn’t load an important responsibility on someone who has not proven the ability to deal with a lesser responsibility. God knows what he is doing. So if you cannot deal with the things that do not really belong to you, things that are passing away – land, money, goods – then God is not going to bother you with things that last – spiritual gifts. If the Gospel is right – and I believe it is – then when it comes to your fancy house, your car or SUV, your stock portfolio and your basement full of toys, “you can’t take it with you.” But when it comes to your experience of God, your friendships, your temperament, your spiritual gifts, your emotional and intellectual maturity: that’s what really belongs to you. How well are you handling the things that pass away? How well can you handle the things that last?

 

4. “You cannot serve God and wealth.” Sure, all of us have multiple types and levels of responsibility. I’m a Christian, but also a Rotarian, a Parliamentarian, a teacher of philosophy – and you are much the same. We worship, we serve, we learn and love, and we also go to work and earn our daily bread. But Jesus is speaking from a society in which “service” is identified through the institution of slavery, so he probably has in mind the sense that you cannot have two owners. You may do multiple things for multiple people and institutions, but you have only one owner. Either you belong to God or you belong to things that are passing away: take your choice.

 

Well, you can take your pick of which of these the story means – or maybe it means something else entirely. And maybe Luke is right and it means all of them. This is one of the funniest stories Jesus ever told and it’s no wonder that lots of people aren’t even aware of it, particularly since it is overshadowed by that magnificent tale of the Prodigal Son. I’m somewhat inclined to go with number 4, myself, simply because it makes a nice summary of the other three: We either belong to God entirely, or not at all. And a God who can generate a story like this one is someone I’m happy to belong to.

 

God of grace and generosity, we pray for wisdom in our handling of the things that pass away and of the things that last to eternity. Thank you for the teachings of Jesus, for their wit and passion, and for the wonder of what they teach. Amen.

 

Robert A. Keefer

Westminster Presbyterian Church

Clarinda, Iowa