The Smartness of Grace

Luke 16:1–13

Grace, mercy, and peace be to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

There is something rather unusual about today's Gospel reading.

We are approaching the end of the Church Year. The Sundays are running out, and our readings are turning our attention towards the end of all things: the return of Christ, the final judgment, and the day when we will all have to give an account of our lives.

And what does Jesus give us on a Sunday like this?

A story about a dishonest manager!

A man who has been wasting his employer's money, gets caught, realizes that he is about to lose his job, and then comes up with one last dishonest scheme to secure his future. And, just when we expect Jesus to condemn him, the man is actually commended for his cleverness.

It is a strange story. Perhaps one of the most difficult parables Jesus ever told.

And it leaves us with an uncomfortable question: What does it mean to be ready for the future that God has prepared for us?

Let's take a closer look.

A wealthy man has a manager who is responsible for looking after his property and business affairs. But something is wrong. The manager is accused of wasting his employer's possessions.

Notice that the accusation is not necessarily that he has stolen the money. It is that he has been wasting what was entrusted to him.

Eventually, the employer calls him in and says:

"Give me an account of your management, because you can no longer be my manager."

In other words: You're finished. Hand over the books. Your time here is up.

The manager suddenly realizes that he has a problem. And he knows it.

He says to himself:

"What will I do now? I'm not strong enough to dig, and I'm ashamed to beg."

He has reached a point where he cannot continue as before, but he has no idea what comes next.

So he starts thinking.

And he comes up with a plan. He calls in the people who owe his employer money and reduces their debts. One man's debt of a hundred measures of oil becomes fifty. Another man's debt of a hundred measures of wheat becomes eighty.

He is not suddenly having a change of heart. He is not overwhelmed by generosity. He is making sure that, when he loses his job, there will be people who remember him kindly and perhaps give him somewhere to stay.

He is looking after his future.

And here comes the surprising part: his employer actually commends him for acting shrewdly.

Jesus then makes a comment that should make us stop and think:

"The children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light."

In other words, people who belong to this world often know exactly how to look after their own interests. They plan, calculate, make arrangements and act decisively when their future is at stake.

But what about us?

What about those of us who call ourselves children of light? Are we just as thoughtful, just as determined, just as intentional about the things that really matter?

That is where Jesus wants us to look.

But first, let's be clear about what this parable is not saying.

Jesus is not telling us that dishonesty is acceptable as long as we are clever enough. He is certainly not suggesting that we can buy our way into heaven by giving money away or doing enough good deeds.

The manager is not being praised for his dishonesty. He is being commended for recognizing the seriousness of his situation and acting decisively.

He understands that his present circumstances will not last forever. Something is coming to an end, and he needs to prepare for what lies ahead.

And that is the point Jesus wants His disciples to consider.

We, too, have been entrusted with something. In fact, we have been entrusted with a great deal.

Our money, our possessions, our abilities, our opportunities, our time, our relationships, and even the days of our lives are gifts placed into our hands for a while.

They are not ours to keep forever. We are stewards, not owners.

And one day, our stewardship will come to an end.

That is one reason why the final Sundays of the Church Year are important. They remind us that life is not an endless possession. Our time here is limited. The things we spend so much energy worrying about will not last forever.

The question, then, is not simply what we have accumulated, but what we have done with what was entrusted to us.

And here we need to be particularly careful as Lutherans and our theology.

Because whenever we hear a sermon about good works, generosity or responsible Christian living, something inside us can quickly turn it into a checklist.

Perhaps we begin to think:

"If I give a little more, if I volunteer more often, if I help enough people, if I become a better Christian, perhaps I will be safe when God calls me to account."

But that is not the Gospel.

That is simply the old human desire to earn what can never be earned.

We cannot purchase God's forgiveness. We cannot accumulate enough good deeds to secure a place in heaven. We cannot balance our spiritual accounts through our own efforts.

Martin Luther would remind us that we are justified by faith alone, through Christ alone.

Our salvation is God's gift, not our achievement.

And that changes everything.

We do not practice generosity in order to become God's children. We practice generosity because, through Christ, we already are God's children.

That is where the Gospel begins to shine through this rather uncomfortable parable.

The manager in the story is worried because he knows that his employer will demand an account of what he has done.

And if we are honest, we know that we, too, have not always been good managers of what God has placed in our hands.

We have wasted opportunities. We have sometimes been selfish with our time. We have held on tightly to what we could have shared. We have overlooked people who needed our attention. We have worried more about protecting what we own than about caring for those around us.

There is plenty in our lives that would not look particularly impressive if we had to present the accounts ourselves.

But the good news is that our relationship with God does not depend on the quality of our bookkeeping.

Christ has taken our account upon Himself.

He has carried the burden of our failures, our selfishness, our wasted opportunities and our sins to the cross. He has paid the debt that we could never repay.

And the One who did this is the very One who, though He was rich, became poor for our sake, so that through His poverty we might become rich.

He did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many.

That is our security. Not our cleverness. Not our achievements. Not our carefully balanced accounts.

His grace.

There is another beautiful thought worth considering.

Throughout His ministry, Jesus was often accused of being far too generous with the wrong sort of people.

He welcomed tax collectors and sinners. He sat at the table with people respectable society preferred to avoid. He touched lepers, forgave those who had failed, and made room for those who had been pushed aside.

The religious authorities complained about it:

"This man welcomes sinners and eats with them."

They intended those words as an accusation.

But, thanks be to God, they were absolutely right.

Jesus does welcome sinners. He welcomes people like us.

If there is any squandering in the Gospel, it is the extraordinary generosity with which God pours out His mercy upon people who have done nothing to deserve it.

And that mercy is what has made us friends of God.

Not our shrewdness. His grace.

So what does a shrewd child of light look like?

Not someone who is desperately trying to earn a place in heaven.

Rather, someone who knows that heaven is already God's gift in Christ and therefore begins to look at everyday life differently.

If everything we have comes from God, then everything we have can become an opportunity to serve Him and our neighbor.

Every rand we give. Every hour we offer. Every act of kindness. Every opportunity to listen, encourage, forgive or help someone who is struggling.

These things do not buy God's favor. They are ways of reflecting the favor and love we have already received.

Perhaps that means helping someone who is struggling to put food on the table. Perhaps it means visiting someone who is lonely, welcoming someone who feels like an outsider, or giving a little more time to someone who simply needs to be heard.

Sometimes it means supporting the work of the Church, here in Beacon Bay and King William's Town, and beyond.

And sometimes it is much simpler than that.

It means not allowing our possessions to become more important than people. It means remembering that money is a useful servant but a terrible master. It means asking ourselves not only, "What can I afford?" but also, "Who might need my help?"

That is what Christian stewardship looks like.

It is not about having a great deal. It is about being faithful with what we have.

The children of this world can be remarkably determined when it comes to securing their future. They make plans, take opportunities and act when they believe something important is at stake.

Jesus asks us to bring that same seriousness and intentionality to the things of God's kingdom.

We know that this world will not last forever. We know that our lives are in God's hands. We know that Christ will come again.

So let us not spend our lives simply collecting things that we cannot take with us.

Let us use what God has given us. Let us be generous. Let us be attentive to the needs of others. Let us make room for people who need to experience something of God's kindness.

Not out of fear. Not to earn a reward. But out of gratitude for the grace we have received.

And then, when that final day comes, when our earthly stewardship is over and we stand before our Lord, we will not need to present an impressive record of our own achievements.

We will have nothing to boast about.

We will stand before Him trusting in Christ alone.

Our hope will not be in how cleverly we managed our lives, how much money we gave away, or how many good things we managed to accomplish.

Our hope will be in the One who loved us, gave Himself for us, and has already paid our debt.

And because of Him, the future is not something we need to fear.

The eternal home is not something we have to purchase.

It has been prepared for us through Jesus Christ.

Dear friends, may God give us the wisdom to use faithfully what He has placed in our hands, the generosity to share His gifts with others, and the faith to trust Him with our future.

For the Master who calls us to give an account is also the Savior who has given His life for us.

And that makes all the difference.

Amen.