Using What You Have

 Luke 16:1-9

Now He was also saying to the disciples, "There was a certain rich man who had a steward, and this steward was reported to him as squandering his possessions.  And he called him and said to him, ‘What is this I hear about you?  Give an account of your stewardship, for you can no longer be steward.'

"And the steward said to himself, ‘What shall I do, since my master is taking the stewardship away from me?  I am not strong enough to dig; I am ashamed to beg.  I know what I shall do, so that when I am removed from the stewardship, they will receive me into their homes.'

"And he summoned each one of his master's debtors, and he began saying to the first, ‘How much do you owe my master?'  And he said, ‘A hundred measures of oil.' And he said to him, ‘Take your bill, and sit down quickly and write fifty.'  Then he said to another, ‘And how much do you owe?'  And he said, ‘A hundred measures of wheat.' He said to him, ‘Take your bill, and write eighty.'

"And his master praised the unrighteous steward because he had acted shrewdly; for the sons of this age are more shrewd in relation to their own kind than the sons of light.  And I say to you, make friends for yourselves by means of the mammon of unrighteousness; that when it fails, they may receive you into the eternal dwellings."

Sermon for Ninth Sunday After Trinity                                               07/28/24

Using What You Have

My Brothers and Sisters in Christ:

Have you ever had a bad day?  Of course you have.  But, I am willing to bet that it wasn't as bad a day as the day described by Jesus in the parable in our Gospel lesson this morning.  That steward was having a really bad day.  Jesus tells the parable to make the point about using what you have to the best effect.  I want to take you through the lesson and discuss that point.  Our theme is, "Using What You have."

In order to make sense of the parable, you need to remember a couple of facts about what Jesus refers to as a "steward" in our Gospel.  In English, we might call someone in his position a manager or an administrator.  In the day and culture of Jesus' Israel, the office was called, in Aramaic, a "shaliak".  A Shaliak would be a manager with extraordinary authority, from the twenty-first century perspective.  He could make deals that his master did not approve of, and the deal was made as surely and with the same authority as though the master had done it himself.  That is why the "squandering" of the master's possessions was such a serious thing.  His employer had no recourse to recover mismanaged funds.

Everyone in Jesus' day would have known this.  This is just how things worked back then.  What was happening was something like what happened to Joe Louis, when his managers squandered all that he had earned, and the champ was left penniless, and so had to keep fighting just to make a living, day to day.  Unlike Joe Louis, the master in the parable discovered the problem in time to keep from going broke, and when he fired the steward, the steward had to leave his employment with the shirt on his back and nothing more - unlike Joe's crooked managers, who left quite well-off.

So, the man was going from relative wealth to absolute poverty overnight. He faced reality squarely.  He was not cut out for heavy labor - probably as much due to age and long inactivity as anything, and he couldn't bear the thought of begging - which was the first century's unemployment and social security plan all rolled up into one.  Back then, you worked, or you begged and depended on the generosity of the townspeople, or you starved.  It was a simple equation.  Just like today, the townspeople would grudgingly support a truly needy beggar or two, but if too many were to appear, the generosity of the people around the area would dry right up.  Unlike today, they were often less than kind even to the beggars they happened to support.  That was strange too, because their religious duty required them to be generous to the needy- so they needed beggars.  But, in truth, they had an abundance of needy people around them, widows and orphans and the disabled, and they did not need or want any more.

So, our hero was not inclined to beg.  He faced an existential dilemma.  His conduct had deprived him of his livelihood, as the ways of the foolish often do, and he was unable or unwilling to do the things that were left open to him.  When he took stock of his situation, he found himself left with only one option; lie, cheat, and steal.  He could use the remaining hours of his authority over another man's riches to build a nest egg for himself at his soon-to-be-former master's expense.  That is what he did.

He reduced the debts of his master's wealthier debtors by significant amounts, in all likelihood with the expressed understanding that they would owe him for his duplicity on their behalf.  He certainly expected a return on his graft.  That is what "so that when I am removed from the stewardship, they will receive me into their homes" meant.  And when his duplicity was discovered, "his master praised the unrighteous steward because he had acted shrewdly".  

The parable doesn't tell us if he managed to keep his job, or whether his scheming worked or anything like that, because this is, after all, a parable - and not a real recounting of historical events.  The point of the story has been made, so Jesus did not need to add any more to the story.

The point is, "the sons of this age are more shrewd in relation to their own kind than the sons of light".  People tend to exercise more intelligence and realistic thinking when they deal with the passing things of this world than Christians do dealing with the eternal realities of Christ.  People manage their portfolio's with care.  They know where their money is.  They calculate cash-flow and appreciation rates and almost always know how this or that action will serve their self-interest before they act.  This is not universally true - there are poor people and lousy managers out there, but generally, people pay attention to their things - and generally they follow easy to understand principles for self-preservation and self-advantage.  We lock our cars.  We don't loan our credit cards to strangers.  We try not to create havoc for ourselves when we are thinking clearly.

Christians are not so ‘shrewd'.  We often fail to live according to our theology.  We say we believe something, but we will act as though we do not.  We frequently value the things of this world in ways that suggest that they are more permanent and significant than they actually are, and faith, and fellowship with our fellow-believers, and doctrine, and the life of our family - the congregation - take a back seat to toys, and personal pleasures, and ideas and activities that often directly contradict our faith.  Christians often have their ‘faith' in a mental "lock-box" kept separate from how they think and how they speak and how they act in regards to life-in-general.  We see Christians placing the esteem and society of the unbelieving before the people and things of our faith.  We frequently care about those we count as acquaintances more deeply than the things of God or of our faith. And we behave as though life in this world is to be adhered to at any cost, as though the promises and hope of the Gospel are not real.

Jesus means to draw your attention to that by means of this parable.  When he says, "And I say to you, make friends for yourselves by means of the mammon of unrighteousness; that when it fails, they may receive you into the eternal dwellings", He is addressing what we might call that disconnect between what we confess and what we actually do.

The ‘mammon of unrighteousness' refers to the ‘stuff' of this world.  When Jesus says to make friends for yourself with it, He doesn't mean to use it to make friends of society or of the people around you, but to use it in ways that are consistent with your Christian confession.

Let's face it, if we were to look at the church with the expectation that how we used our gifts of faith, doctrine, forgiveness, and the ‘mammon of unrighteousness' reflected our true values, we would come away with an entirely different picture of what the Christian faith was about than what we confess that we believe.  Synods and church bodies would appear to be about the accumulation of buildings and nest-eggs filled with cash and promoting a progressive social agenda in society at large.  Teaching about that Jesus guy in the Bible would not appear to be a priority at all.  Sound doctrine and clear confession appear to have no particular place among congregations and church bodies here.  Advancing Biblical morality would seem to be less worthwhile than looking good in the eyes of the world around us and garnering the esteem of worldly authorities.

Judging by their actions, almost all congregations would appear to be having a race about size and impressive buildings, and hosting picnics and so forth.  Sharing the good news of the grace of God, helping people to hear about their salvation, and encouraging one another to stand firm in the faith once delivered to us does not appear to dominate congregational activities very often, if ever.  The most active churches in our community give away food to anyone who wants to take it, provide clothing for those who want to wear hand-me-downs, and host concerts and other cultural events for the community.  Garage sales are big.  Dinner fund-raisers are common, although they rarely seem to be raising funds for the actual spread of the Gospel.  We are instructed to build "evangelism" by meeting the community needs for day-care centers and alcoholic anonymous meetings.  And we are told that this sort of social service is "mission work".

Finally, individual Christians often behave as though everything else in life is more urgent to them than the faith - - or the other faithful.  The situation reminds me of the observation that if you want to quit fishing, move to the lake.  People do that, you know.  They move to the thing they say they value, and then, because it is right there, they know they can do it any time, and so everything else steps in and takes it's place.  Before you know it, you haven't been out in a boat for years because, ‘Awwww, you can do that any time - so let's go do this or that today and fish tomorrow.'

The Church is here, and presumably will be next week, and next month, so the weekend visit to someone someplace else is more urgent.  One ‘needs' the things of life, and one can theoretically give more financial support tomorrow, so one buys things today that aren't needs, and treats the Gospel and the fellowship of the faithful like something that they might attend to when there is nothing more exciting - nothing interesting - to do.  You really do care about fellow believers, but your garden, your projects, your relatives, your vacation get away's, and your (you can fill in the blank here) are urgent, and just as important as . . . , and consume your attention.

But let's face the truth: what is more important than God's Word?  What do we need more than the gifts of God which He delivers to us in worship?  Who is really more important than our brothers and sisters in Christ, given to us by God to love and to care for and to encourage?   What does it profit a man to gain the whole world, and to lose his own soul?  Are we dealing with the things of Christ as we want to when we think about faith and the Gospel and such?  How are you using what you have?

What Jesus is teaching by means of the parable is that we ought to be more shrewd in our dealings with the things of the world in ways that reflect our confession and our hope.  We are to use the things of this world in ways that help the proclamation of the gospel, or in ways that tend toward our spiritual health - you know, like going to church and Bible Study regularly, or reading good books, or financing the preaching and teaching of the Word of God both here and in the distant parts of the mission field.

Being shrewd might suggest not throwing money at mission programs that do not actually do missions, or not allowing ourselves to be confused by the popularity of social ministries of so-called compassion and thinking that they are evangelism of some sort.  Social ministries are surely good works, and we should be about helping others in such ways, but we should never confuse that with missions or evangelism.  Being "shrewd in relation to your own kind" as "sons of light" means dealing with one another as beloved brothers and sisters in the household of God.  That means we care about one another, and know who is hurting, and who is in need of something we can provide, and understanding – or at least thinking about – what we can do to encourage one another and help each other live lives of peace and contentment here and now as the children of God in Christ Jesus.

Our failures in regard to one another are legion - and when I preach like this, I suspect I stir up a bit of guilt.  Some of you probably think that I am preaching down to you, as though I think that I do this stuff all the way it should be, and you are the only ones to miss the mark.  But it is not that way.  I recognize that I am not as "shrewd" in regard to my brothers and sisters in Christ as I might be either.  My only comfort is that we are, together, "sons of light".  We are redeemed and forgiven for the sake of the death of Christ on the cross on our behalf, and His resurrection for our justification.

So, if you fall short of this shrewd stewardship of the mammon of unrighteouseness, take this comfort; your sins are forgiven.  But take a lesson from Jesus about using what you have.  God has given you all that you possess, your time, your abilities, and your possessions and wealth, for His purposes, not merely for your own enrichment and entertainment.  Think about the steward in the parable and ask yourself how will you want to have used what you have been given when you are called to give an account of your stewardship?  You are going to go to heaven because of Christ, so that is not the question.  The question is, how do you want to be using what you have, as one of God's chosen and beloved children?

He that has ears to hear, let him hear.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.

(Let the people say Amen)

Better Than the Best

 Matthew 5:20-26

"For I say to you, that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven.  You have heard that the ancients were told, ‘YOU SHALL NOT COMMIT MURDER' and ‘Whoever commits murder shall be liable to the court.'  But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother shall be guilty before the court; and whoever shall say to his brother, ‘Raca,' shall be guilty before the supreme court; and whoever shall say, ‘You fool,' shall be guilty enough to go into the fiery hell.

"If therefore you are presenting your offering at the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your offering there before the altar, and go your way; first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and present your offering.  

"Make friends quickly with your opponent at law while you are with him on the way, in order that your opponent may not deliver you to the judge, and the judge to the officer, and you be thrown into prison.  Truly I say to you, you shall not come out of there, until you have paid up the last cent."

Sermon for Sixth Sunday After Trinity                                               07/07/24

Better Than the Best

My Brothers and Sisters in Christ:

Sometimes planning only makes things harder.  Have you ever noticed that?  As some of you know, I plan the services a month or more at a time.  I do that primarily to plan the hymns so our music people have time to make their plans.  It is more challenging to produce the music for the service than it might seem, if you have never participated in doing so.  When I plan the services, I read the text and try to plan the theme of the sermon - that is how I know which hymns to pick.

Usually this sermon-theme planning works out okay.  Sometimes, however, I come back to the text and discover that I overlooked something, or I cannot imagine what I was thinking of when I planned the theme that I put on the planning form.  The hymns are almost always appropriate - but writing the sermon can get to be a challenge, trying to fit into a theme I no longer see or resonate with.  I am sure you have had the same experience now and then, you know, reading a Bible passage and seeing one thing in it at one time, and reading it again weeks or months later and seeing something else, or something more -and wondering how you missed it earlier.

The reason for that is that the Word of God is living and active - according to the Bible itself.  God is at work through His Word, and He opens up certain things to us at the time we need them - as they apply to our situation at the moment.  It is the same Word, and it says the same things, and means the same things - but we just pick up on how it applies differently in different situations and according to the need of different moments.

I only mention that because each time I read our text for this morning, I see something more - something I either did not see earlier, or saw and dismissed from my planning, and cannot put out of my mind as I consider the text anew.  So, while we wrestle with this Gospel lesson, this morning, we will do so under the theme, Better Than the Best.

The theme came from the first sentence of our Gospel, "For I say to you, that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven."  Although we carry a prejudice against the Pharisees because of the condemnation of Jesus, the truth is that they were pretty good people.  They were ultra-moral.  They were the most diligent of the Jews in minding the Law and keeping their religion's rules and regulations.  They were the kind of people who made others feel unclean by comparison, and they didn't have to brag about it to do so.  They did brag, but they didn't need to in order to make others feel less religious or less righteous.  They were really the Best.

Jesus didn't condemn them for keeping the Laws, but for their hypocrisy.  They were keeping the rules, but they had forgotten God.  They had the form of their religion, but they did not love God.  They didn't understand the reasons for the rules they were keeping.  They were just about being the best without really thinking much about why or how their observance of their own religion matched up with the religion they were supposedly observing.  Some of them were masters of putting on a good show publicly, and accommodating every vice and lust privately, without anyone seeing it.

Jesus knew the truth, however.  He saw their empty formalism.  He saw the pride behind doing outwardly and slavishly what God desired they do from their heart - out of love for their God and Savior.  The Pharisees didn't even call themselves "Pharisees".  That name means the "separated ones".  They initially called themselves "Haberim", meaning "The Associates" or "The Brothers".  Their public nick-name is the one that stuck, however, because they thought they were better than anyone else.  And, in terms of keeping the rules, they were.

And Jesus said "that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven."  You need to be better than the best.  Then Jesus goes on to sharpen the Law for us so that we understand that even if mere formalism were our goal, we would find it far more difficult than we might imagine.  It is not just enough, for example, to refrain from killing our neighbor.  We must also not speak ill of him or call him a rude name.  Even being angry is as bad as murder, but calling tem a name or saying "You fool!" is enough to send you to hell.  The demands of the Law are far more exacting than we like to think.

They are so exacting that if we were to try honestly to measure up for ourselves, we would find ourselves failing miserably.  And that is the point of the Law.  It accuses.  The Law always accuses.  The law should always remind you forcibly that you are fit for hell, and you deserve no good thing from God whatsoever.  If you hear the Law preached and come away from it feeling pretty good about yourself, and think that you're not so bad after all, either I haven't done my job right, or you have not been paying attention.

So, just in case, listen up: the Pharisees were the very best at outwardly observing the Law and keeping the rule, and Jesus said that unless your righteousness was greater than that of the scribes and the Pharisees, you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven.  Note that Jesus did not say "might not" or that you could miss - but that you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven.  You've got to be better than the best. 

Then comes the part that jumps up and grabs me - the part I didn't think about before.  Jesus talks about making friends with your opponent at law.  "Make friends quickly with your opponent at law while you are with him on the way, in order that your opponent may not deliver you to the judge, and the judge to the officer, and you be thrown into prison.  Truly I say to you, you shall not come out of there, until you have paid up the last cent."

I have to confess that I have preached this as I have heard it preached in the past - reconcile with your brother now - you know, make hay while the sun shines.  But as I prepared to write this sermon it just didn't fit.  The thought is okay, God would have us reconcile with one another - its just that it really never seems like that is what Jesus is getting at there.  He does that in the verses before, when He tells us to leave our gift at the altar and go and be reconciled with our brother before we present our gifts.  More than just saying, "God loves a cheerful giver," Jesus is saying there that God doesn't want anything from you - not offerings or worship or anything until you get right with your brother down here.  It is like where John writes, in 1st John, "If someone says, ‘I love God,' and hates his brother, he is a liar; for the one who does not love his brother whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen."

Jesus tells us in our Gospel that we have no business even approaching God with anything standing between us and our brother - that is, a fellow believer.  He speaks there of reconciliation and setting things right man to man and woman to woman so clearly that it cannot be what He is talking about in these last verses of our Gospel.

Then it struck me, our ‘opponent at law' is God Himself.  The judge will be Jesus at the end, and jail from which we shall never escape ‘until we have paid the last cent' is hell.  Jesus is preaching the Gospel here, sort of.  He is saying fix the problem of sin while you are on the way - you know while you are alive, before you face God at the end.  But we cannot.  We need to be better than the best.  We need to be better than we can be, and each one of us has dared countless times to come before God with anger and hard feelings standing between us and someone else, even between ourselves and those who also profess faith in Christ.  So what are we to do?

Since we are lost already - and we cannot make friends with our opponent at law while we are on the way - we need Him to rescue us.  And that is precisely what He has done.  He took the entire burden of our sins and paid the price, bore the penalty, endured the wrath of God which was ours by right and by deserving.  Jesus did all of that on the cross with His brutal death, and He invites us to make friends by taking Him at His Word and trusting His promises and believing that because of His death, and it is proclaimed by His resurrection, our sins are fully and freely forgiven, and that He that believes and is baptized shall be saved!

How do you make friends?  Trust Him.  Take Him at His Word.  If you do, and you take that seriously, you have that righteousness which surpasses that of the scribes and the Pharisees, you have the righteousness of Christ by His gift and grace.  You are cleansed by the waters of Baptism, and you are filled with the righteousness of Christ by forgiveness and by the indwelling of Jesus Christ in you which you receive as you eat of His body and drink of His blood in the Holy Sacrament.  In Christ, you are declared by God to be better than the best – at least the best that man can accomplish by his own powers and natural abilities.

Our lesson this morning is a portion of the Sermon on the Mount.  Many people love the Sermon on the Mount because Jesus taught it and they interpret it as pure Gospel, somehow.  It is not.  It contains some of the sternest Law of the entire Bible.  Jesus made the Law more demanding and exacting and comprehensive – as He did in our Gospel lesson this morning – so that no one could misunderstand and dream that they could earn eternal life.  Obviously, that hasn't stopped most people – not even most who call themselves Christians – but you should not allow yourselves to be deceived.

The message this morning is, give up on yourself.  You are not good enough.  Throw yourself on God's mercy, and He will have grace and forgiveness and salvation for you, if you humble yourself and repent, and trust Him.  When you do, the Holy Spirit will work in you through Word and Sacrament, and your life will demonstrate the sincerity of your faith as He leads you to live a changed, repentant life.   Sadly, your life on this earth won't be perfect even then, but our life and our perfection is not our hope.  Our hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness.  In Jesus Christ, and only in Jesus Christ, are we better than the best.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.

(Let the people say Amen)