Sermon: "Wheeling and Dealing With Jesus"

WHEELING AND DEALING WITH JESUS
Luke 16:1-13

A rancher had a horse that sometimes walked around with a limp and at other times walked normally. He contacted a local vet and asked him what he thought he should do.

The vet thought for a moment and then said, “Well, the next time he walks normally sell him.”

Dennis the Menace caught his friend, Joey, trying to get a paper out of a newspaper machine without putting in any money. He said, “Hey, Joey, wait! First, you hav ta put in the money. . . and then you can have as many papers as you want.”

A young boy asked his dad about the meaning of the word “ethics.”

The dad was a fairly well-off businessman. After thinking for a few minutes about what he might say, he finally said, “Well, son, you know your uncle and I are in business together. Well, suppose that a customer comes in and pays for something that only costs ten dollars with a twenty and then leaves before the cashier can make change.”

Then he paused, took a deep breath, and added: “Ethics is whether I split the extra ten dollars with your uncle.”

Now, we could continue down this path for a very long time – this path of making light of dishonesty. There are plenty of humorous illustrations with punch lines making light of dishonesty. The truth of the matter is though: we really don’t regard dishonesty as a humorous matter. Dishonesty, especially the dishonesty of others, we view as, well, wrong – something to be avoided.

I think that's one of the reasons the parable Luke records Jesus telling about a man praised by his boss for doing something dishonest so shocks. I don't know about you, but I scratch my head every time I read it and wonder to myself: “What on earth could Jesus possibly have been thinking when he told this parable? What was he trying to say? What was his point?”

In 1919 one of the most notorious events in the history of sports took place when the Chicago White Sox and the Cincinnati Reds met in the World Series (there have certainly been others more recently, such as Lance Armstrong's doping and the current Major League baseball drug fiasco!). The “war to end all wars” (wrong!) had just ended and the excitement about the series grew to the point that the series expanded into a best-of-nine event instead of the normal best-of-seven.

It was the Cincinnati Reds first World Series appearance and they were considered the overwhelming underdogs. One of the greatest hitters in the history of baseball, “Shoeless” Joe Jackson, led the Chicago team. The atmosphere was electrifying. Some thought it was the hype that caused the first pitch by the Chicago pitcher to be wild and hit the Reds’ batter.

The truth of the matter was, the errant pitch was actually a prearranged signal to the gamblers that the fix was on. Eight members of that “Chicago Black Sox” team, which is what they became known as, including the famous “Shoeless” Joe Jackson, were arrested for conspiring to throw the series.
It’s possibly just a legend, but one of the stories repeated over the years has Jackson leaving the courthouse after his arrangement and being confronted by a little boy who looked up at “Shoeless” Joe and begged, “Say it ain’t so, Joe. Say it ain’t so.” It’s a cliché that has become a part of our popular American culture. It’s a familiar response we offer one another when something worse than we want to believe is happening. “Say it ain’t so.  Say it ain’t so.” (1)

It’s certainly one of the things we’re tempted to say after reading or hearing this parable attributed to Jesus in Luke’s Gospel. It’s just incomprehensible that Jesus could possibly mean here that we should “wheel and deal,” or, “cook the books” – that we should resort to being dishonest, do anything necessary to get by in this world.

We’re not the only ones uncomfortable with this passage. Bible students and preachers alike through the centuries have struggled with this parable. Some have suggested that the parable was mistranslated some time down through the years. Some have suggested that Jesus was just trying to overstate his point so that his disciples would pay closer attention. Still others have suggested that the total amount owed to the landowner included some interest and that it was this amount that was forgiven. It’s also been suggested that the manager was on a commission and that the amount he cut was his slice of the pie. (2)

The truth of the matter is that while they are clever explanations, there’s nothing in the text to suggest any such things were the underlying cause for the manager being dishonest and being praised for it by the master thus explaining away Jesus’ questionable affirmation at the outcome of the story. For those interested, here’s my take on it.

I choose to believe this is a story about grace – God's grace - about God’s totally over-the-top, beyond human reason, undefinable, radical concept of grace. God does not give up on us. One preacher referred to it in one of his sermons as “bonus points for a little ingenuity.” (3) His point was that despite the reality that we sometimes do bad stuff, that God allows bonus points for those times when we’re a little creative in how we try to undo our wrongdoing. There are simply times in our lives when we mess up – do bad – but then we attempt to make amends for our wrongdoing, which may in and of themselves not be all that great, but they get God’s attention because they say to God that we’re trying.

James Howell went on in his sermon to say, “I don’t know what to make of this story except that it must apply to many of us in terms of our Christianity. There are a few of you whom I know are really holy and noble, and you always do God’s will, so this sermon is not for you. This sermon is for the rest of (us) who are like this servant.” (4)

Yep, this sermon is for those of us who know we’re called to be concerned for God’s world and know that our lives are God’s, but who live at times as if we don’t know it. We long to be paid attention to by community leaders or celebrities and we love our money and the material things it helps us surround ourselves with. We enjoy eating, drinking and having fun. We enjoy lounging around - we can’t wait to get back at those who’ve wronged us and we long to obtain something else that someone else has that we don’t. The church used to refer to these things as the seven deadly sins: pride, envy, greed, lust, gluttony, sloth and anger. And the above illustrations cause us to admit to ourselves that at times we’re guilty of several of them. “Prayer? Reflecting on God’s word? Serving the poor? (We’re geniuses) at leaving these things undone.” (5) As stewards we have squandered what our master has given us.

We all can remember a time or two when something got to us in a sermon and we thought to ourselves, “Man, when I get home today, I’m going to really be different. I’m going to strive to be more like Mother Teresa. I’m going to cut back on my shopping, start praying at every meal and when I get up in the morning and when I go to bed at night. Yes, ma’am, I’m going to be different when I leave this sanctuary today.” (6)

And what often happens is we barely make it to lunch or to the middle of the afternoon, before we mess up – before we forget about it – before we lose our inspiration. I believe that God understands, that God is merciful and just wants to see a little creative imagination – a little attempt made – a little belated ingenuity.

Again, in the James Howell sermon I’ve been referencing, he puts it this way: “An alcoholic has lied, connived, ruined his marriage, dumped garbage in his children’s souls, corroded his own liver. But he walks into AA and begins the hard work of recovery – no pretension to sainthood, no turning back the clock – apologies, pleas of forgiveness, a hint of life.

“You lose your job – just as this steward lost his job, although you were probably more diligent. How can this bad situation, over time, become God’s calling to you to move into something new that God is calling you to for the rest of your life? You may bring in less money, but in the world of Jesus’ parables, prices are being marked down.

“Belated ingenuity. We have polluted rivers and spattered clear skies. The Christian businessman cannot tear down his factory, but he settles for a little less profit and applies environmental standards that are actually superior to the governmental minimum. The rich, the stockholders, get less money back.

“A terrorist strikes. War breaks out. Flawed foreign policy, an inability to negotiate peace. Violence seems necessary to restore peace, a peace which is no more than a policed kind of security where we forever look over our shoulders. But somebody seizes the opportunity and builds a bridge, a hospital, marking down debts owed by other countries in a too-late but yet earnest effort to rebuild relationships frayed for far too long.” (7)

No, we’re not likely to give everything we have to the poor, but, perhaps we can do a little more than we’re doing. Maybe we could share what we have a little better. Perhaps God is a bit angry about how we’ve been living our lives. And perhaps God sees some of our lame attempts at changing or being better and notes them as enough to keep us among the chosen and blessed ones.

Throughout history there have been scoundrels, persons who have made grave mistakes only to have ended up doing some pretty wonderful things despite the “sin” hanging over their head. No, we’re not saints in the never do anything wrong sense that most understand it to mean, and we never will be. But, we are forgiven stewards who have often been unfaithful and who will often be in the future. Wheeling and dealing with Jesus involves doing the very best we can with whatever situations we find ourselves in – recognizing when we’ve messed up and trying to do something about it because we trust that we serve a gracious, an understanding and a loving God. The point of the parable is that God is gracious and that the door is always open for us to come around. Isn’t that good news to hear – to believe – to share – to live?

Consider offering this prayer as your own today: "Lord, Jesus, creator of all, judge of all, we don’t enjoy taking an honest look at ourselves. We avoid the truth about our lives. We escape from reality and into fantasy. We say we want to be near you, but then when you come in all your fierce and wonderful truth, we flee. Yet you have made us and named us and are determined to have us grow up to be the creatures you intended us to be. Go ahead, Lord Jesus. Keep at us, despite us. Amen."

1.  Timothy B. Cargal, “Say It Ain’t So!,” Emphasis, September/October, 2004, p. 22.
2.  Ibid., p. 23.
3.  James Howell, “Belated Ingenuity,” Pulpit Resource, July, August, September 2004, p. 50.
4.  Ibid.
5.  Ibid.
6.  Ibid.
7.  Ibid., p. 51.