| Amos 8:4-7 | 1 Timothy 2:1-8 | Luke 6:1-13 |
Today’s Gospel is a difficult one to understand and has presented problems for commentators throughout the centuries. At first glance, it seems as if Jesus is praising the wickedness of the unjust steward and even recommending that we do the same. Of course, that cannot be the case, because our Lord would never condone evil. So what is the meaning of this Gospel?
The first thing to realize is that what the unjust steward does is probably not as bad as it first appears. When he reduces the debt of those who owe his master money, he is not cheating his master. Rather, he is simply deducting his own commission—the cut of the profits that he had been in the habit of skimming off all these years. In doing this, he has won the friendship of his master’s debtors, and he gains his master’s approval for his cleverness. You see, the servant had built his career on dishonest gain; but now, when his job is in jeopardy, he’s clever enough to know that a little self-denial will gain him the security he needs.
And this is the first lesson of today’s Gospel. It’s contained in our Lord’s words: "the children of this world are more prudent in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light." In other words, righteous people ought to be just as clever in doing good as bad people are in doing evil. And, if the wicked can do a good deed to save their own skin, how much more should the righteous do good out of love for God and neighbor?
The second lesson is found in these words: "The person who is trustworthy in very small matters is also trustworthy in great ones; and the person who is dishonest in very small matters is also dishonest in great ones." This should remind us of the parable of the talents. Remember? The servants who put their master’s money to work, earning him more were told, "Well done, my good and faithful servant. Since you were faithful in small matters, I will give you great responsibilities. Come, share your master’s joy."
There are many ways we can show our fidelity in the small matters. For example, faithfully denying ourselves meat or some other legitimate pleasure on each Friday during the year; or never failing to say grace before meals, even in restaurants. During the next few months, Father Brian and I will begin implementing the changes to the liturgy which have been mandated in recent documents from the Holy See. Generally, these are very small and seemingly insignificant changes. Most of them are simply reemphasizing rules and regulations that have been in effect for decades. Now some might say, "Why do these rules matter? They’re not that important." And, admittedly, they’re certainly not as crucial as the big rules like the Ten Commandments and the Precepts of the Church. You might forfeit eternal happiness by breaking one of those, certainly that’s not the case with the liturgical rules. But this is a good example of being trustworthy in small matters. When we’re careful to observe even the most insignificant of the Church’s expectations, we tell the Lord that we can be trusted with great matters—things that really do affect our eternal salvation. Furthermore, why should we set ourselves up as judges over which rules are worthy to be obeyed and which ones can be ignored? Christ himself asks us to be faithful in small matters, and that’s good enough for me.
The third lesson is found in the final verse of today’s Gospel: "No servant can serve two masters. He will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon." Or, to put it another way, you will serve the one you love. If you love money and the things money can buy, then money will become your master, and God will take second place. But if you love God above all things, then money will become simply another tool with which to serve God, and you will be the master of your money, not its slave.
How do we use our money to serve God? Well, that brings us to the fourth lesson in this parable. It’s contained in this somewhat puzzling expression from the lips of Jesus: "I tell you, make friends for yourselves with dishonest wealth, so that when it fails, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings." Is the Lord telling us to use our wealth dishonestly? No, he’s saying that wealth, of its very nature, is dishonest: money beguiles us into thinking that it will buy us happiness and security. If only I could win the lottery, then I would be free. If only I could hit the jackpot on the slot machines, then I would be happy. But this, dear friends, is an illusion that has bewitched many innocent people.
So, how do we make friends with "dishonest wealth"? By almsdeeds—by giving money to the poor. That is how saints and theologians have consistently interpreted this passage, and it is the interpretation implied by today’s liturgy. The first reading, from the prophet Amos, condemns those who refuse to give alms: "Hear this, you who trample upon the needy and destroy the poor of the land! … The LORD has sworn by the pride of Jacob: Never will I forget a thing they have done!"
Our wealth is nothing more than a gift entrusted to us by Almighty God. We can use it for our own selfish ends, or we can use it to help those in need, thereby making the poor our friends. They, in turn, will pray for us and at last welcome us into the "eternal dwellings" of heaven when our wealth—and our life—come to an end. Giving alms—using our money to help those in need—is charity in action. Listen to these words of the great 3rd Century bishop and martyr St. Cyprian, whose feast we celebrated last week:
An illustrious and divine thing is the saving labor of charity; a great comfort of believers, a wholesome guard of our security, a protection of hope, a safeguard of faith, a remedy for sin, a thing placed in the power of the doer, great and easy; a crown of peace without the risk of persecution; the true and greatest gift of God, needful for the weak, glorious for the strong, assisted by which the Christian achieves spiritual greatness, deserves well of Christ the Judge, makes God his debtor. For this palm of works of salvation let us gladly strive. … If the day of reckoning and persecution should find us running swiftly in this contest of charity, then the Lord will never fail to give us the reward of our merits. In peace he will give to the winners a white crown for our labors; in persecution he will add to it a purple one as a reward for our sufferings.
May the Lord assist us in using our money and all the gifts he gives us with wisdom and love.
© 2004, The Rev. Timothy W. Castor