September 23, 2007 at Saint Mark Church in Norman, OK
Amos 8: 4-7 + Psalm 113 + 1 Timothy 2: 1-8 + Luke 16: 1-13
As I sat for several days with these verses from Luke 16, the G-8 Summit was concluding in Australia, and the media was highlighting international concern for the earth. Global warming seemed to weave its way in and out of every other issue. While there are some who insist the whole matter
is simply a media event, there are others who prefer to believe that this is all just a matter of climate cycles; but they are growing fewer in number and a bit less insistent in the face of scientific facts and reports, and our growing realization that as usual, the biggest impact will be felt by the most helpless and poorest of peoples. The statistics are staggering and disturbing. Most disturbing of all to me is that the underlying cause of global warming is the cooling of the human heart. What else can account for the squandering of an environment that belongs to every living being. What else can account for our apathy toward the well-being of others. Even scientists are beginning to speak about a “moral obligation” to care for the earth. If scientists are concerned about the morality of human decisions, how much more should disciple of Jesus Christ have this concern for practicing good stewardship not only of the earth, but for all who live on it. These good stewards would be the “children of light” spoken of in this Gospel.
The complexity of this parable makes it difficult to be absolutely certain as to what specific point Jesus is making. The reversals are surprising. The ending is incomplete since we have no idea how things work out for this steward or for the “master.” The parallel between Jesus and his works of mercy and this debt-reducing steward is interesting; but this dodges the issues of Stewardship that emerge boldly from this text. How Jesus used the parable is not clear. What Luke was doing with the parable is complex. What we do with it is another thing altogether. Spoken in this community in the early fall of 2007, the parable raises some troubling issues as we hear of a shrewd steward who chose to serve his own needs rather than the interests of his employer.
Proclaimed here and now, this parable is story about us, busy resourceful stewards whose track record in terms of the resources we have at hand isn’t anything to brag about; and God the master who may at any moment decide to call for an audit. We are beginning to wake up to the fact that some of our resources are not unlimited, and the supplies are running low. We like to talk these days about “rights”, and usually about our own. We talk about the right to life, but we too often limit that to questions of reproduction, war, or capital punishment. There is also a right to eat, to be clothed, to be sheltered,
and to be nourished by the beauty of this world of which we are a part. We don’t seem to ask any questions about how much and what quality of food we have a right to when others do not eat. How many changes of clothing do we need when others who have a right to be clothed go naked? How big a home do we have a right to when there more of us with no homes on this earth?
Our consumer society suggests we have a right to everything we can earn. But is that true? Our religious tradition raises some objection to this thinking and the behavior that comes from it. In a world of limited resources, how much do we have a right to?
The man in today’s reading is not condemned because of his economic privilege but because he used it only for his own advantage. Children of the Light are more than insatiable consumers. Our value is not found in the measure of our possessions. It is in the quality of our relationships, in particular in our relationships with our deprived brothers and sisters.
We are not called to disown the world because this world is where we belong right now. We are called to live in it gently, using what we need and sharing all we can. We are after all only stewards of the things we have. We will take none of it with us into the next life. We have not earned anything, because we did not call ourselves into this life nor give ourselves any of the opportunities that have come our way.
For the second Sunday in a row, the word “squander” appears in the Gospel. Last week an inheritance was squandered. This week the Master’s property is squandered. Both men ask the same question which perhaps we might ask ourselves: “What shall I do?”