C, Post-Pentecost 18, Proper 23 - 2 Timothy 2:8-15 "Chewing the Fat of Faith"

Perhaps you’ve heard the saying, “chewing the fat”. This is what people do when they sit round the campfire, the bar with a beer, or at the kitchen table — killing time, talking, perhaps gossiping, or just discussing the day’s events in a bid to overcome boredom. One chews the fat by having a chat with someone else. Chewing the fat is usually done with friends.

But from where did such a saying arise? Is chewing the fat a healthy thing to do, or not? Or is chewing the fat neither good nor bad — just a way of remembering and reminding, a mental regurgitation, coughing up what was once buried deep within the mind?

There are a number of legends that seek to explain how the phrase “chewing the fat” entered common speech. However, in recent times there’s an army of health experts warning people off eating fat. To eat lean, they say, is to live a serene, healthy life. One must deny oneself fat, let alone chewing the fat.

Yet this is what soldiers would do to pass the time of tension and boredom before battle broke out. They would chew on tough salted meat or fat to distract the mind and socialise with one another — in the calm before the storm, to keep calm.

Or “chewing the fat” may have been a saying that arose from people doing so in times of food scarcity or on long voyages across the ocean, chewing the fat to get every last morsel of goodness out of a limited supply of food. Even so, it was still a communal activity.

Another possibility is that the saying came from a Native American cultural practice where, during peace talks, “chewing the fat” was a ritual.

Another possible derivation is that “chewing the fat” may have come from another saying, “chewing the rag”, where musket ammunition was kept in paper or cloth soaked in animal fat, which was bitten off when loading the musket. It is thought that the bitten‑off ends of rag or paper soaked in fat would then be chewed to reduce nerves amid the battle. Here again, chewing the fat was a communal exercise amongst comrades.

Saint Paul calls himself a soldier bound in chains as he encourages Timothy also to be a good soldier. He says to Timothy, “Share in suffering as a good soldier of Christ Jesus. Remember Jesus Christ, risen from the dead, the offspring of David, as preached in my gospel, for which I am suffering, bound with chains as a criminal. But the word of God is not bound!” (2 Timothy 2:3,8–9 ESV)

Chewing the fat, like chewing gum, requires muscle memory. Paul encourages Timothy to chew over the word of God, which is not bound as he is bound. Remember Jesus Christ, remember his resurrection, remember he is the offspring of David, remember my preaching of these things — which is my gospel, for which I am suffering. Make it yours too! Chew over the word of God, remember the word of God.

Although “chewing the fat” of God’s word is not literally tearing pages from the Bible and eating them, the symbolic saying does bring to light an issue from Old Testament law. The fat was the most valuable part of a sacrificial animal; eating it, let alone constantly chewing it, was forbidden. The fat and the blood belonged to God:

“And the priest shall burn them (that is, the fat on the entrails, together with the kidneys, the liver, and the fat covering them) on the altar as a food offering with a pleasing aroma. All fat is the Lord’s. It shall be a statute forever throughout your generations, in all your dwelling places, that you eat neither fat nor blood.” (Leviticus 3:16–17 ESV)

There would be no literal eating or “chewing of the fat” in Jewish practice. Yet today we eat and drink the body and blood of Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh. We remember what Christ did to be our Saviour at the cross as we eat his physical and spiritual body and drink his physical and spiritual blood, hidden in the elements of bread and wine. In this we gather as congregation to remember Jesus Christ, to chew the fat, one could say!

Paul, imprisoned, encourages Timothy to share in these things with him despite being separated by prison bars and fifteen hundred kilometres as the crow flies — and further if on foot. Likewise, we gather not just here, nor just at this time, nor just as a parish, nor as a Lutheran denomination, but with angels, archangels, and the whole company of heaven as we are faithfully gathered by the Holy Spirit to “chew the fat” of God’s word, and his Word made flesh in the body and blood of Jesus Christ.

This is a mystery that takes Holy Spirit‑given faith to grasp, and it also takes Holy Spirit‑given faith to pass on to others so they too can “chew the fat” of this faith mystery and receive salvation.

Paul also reminds Timothy of this, since he is a minister of these mysteries at Ephesus. In his first letter to Timothy, Paul lists what is required of Timothy and others who serve, saying: “if I delay, you may know how one ought to behave in the household of God, which is the church of the living God, a pillar and buttress of the truth. (1 Timothy 3:15 ESV)

Then Paul calls Timothy to chew over the following trustworthy saying: “Great indeed, we confess, is the mystery of godliness: He was manifested in the flesh, vindicated by the Spirit, seen by angels, proclaimed among the nations, believed on in the world, taken up in glory.” (1 Timothy 3: 16 ESV)

Now in his second letter he gives Timothy another piece of truth to chew over as he says: The saying is trustworthy, for: If we have died with him, we will also live with him; if we endure, we will also reign with him; if we deny him, he also will deny us; if we are faithless, he remains faithful— for he cannot deny himself.” (2 Timothy 2:11–13 ESV)

On hearing this saying at first you might hear the law of God, as Paul says, “if we deny Jesus, Jesus also will deny us.” This certainly is a dire place to be! I imagine none of us want to be denied by Jesus Christ. Chewing the reality of being Christless is more hopeless than an Anzac assault from the trenches of Gallipoli.

However, I want us to hear the inclusive language of Paul to Timothy: If we have died with him, we will also live with him; if we endure, we will also reign with him; if we deny him, he also will deny us; if we are faithless, he remains faithful— for he cannot deny himself.” (2 Timothy 2:11–13 ESV)

One might think the last statement, “he remains faithful — for he cannot deny himself”, is not inclusive. However, Paul wants Timothy to chew over the richness that has been given to all: to him, Timothy, the congregation at Ephesus, and to us as well. Even though Jesus can deny us when we deny him, and leave us to our own devices, to discipline us, he will always be faithful to us, because the Holy Spirit has been planted in us in baptism. The Holy Spirit reminds us to remember and endure — or remain — in Jesus Christ, and to chew over the truth that allows us to reign with Jesus. Although it is hidden and only seen by faith this side of our physical death and resurrection.

Where Paul calls Timothy to remember Jesus, his works of denying and being faithful, now he encourages Timothy to continue being faithful to his call as pastor at Ephesus, saying: “Remind them of these things, and charge them before God not to quarrel about words, which does no good, but only ruins the hearers. Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth.” (2 Timothy 2:14–15 ESV)

Paul calls Timothy to rightly handle the word of truth, by remembering and reminding. Like a cow chewing its cud, Paul remembers and reminds as he “chews the fat of the faith”. He calls Timothy to do so too. And Paul does this so the church can continue to be gathered and pass on the faith, chewing the fat of God’s richness in Jesus Christ, given and shed for the salvation of souls, so people might participate in the reception of God’s peace.

As we hear Paul speak to Pastor Timothy too, we’re called to chew the fat of faith for our eternal peace as well. We’re called to remember and remind others of God’s faithfulness to us. To gather with our friends and family, our colleagues and neighbours, to chew the fat of our faith and peace. Be it sitting round a campfire, at the bar with a beer, or at the meal table — killing time, talking, demonstrating our desire to glorify God, as we discuss the day’s events in the light of our salvation from sin as we patiently wait for Jesus’ return.

Amen. 

C, Post-Pentecost 17, Proper 22 - Luke 17:5-10 "Faith in Flying Trees"

Luke 17:5–10 (ESV)  The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” And the Lord said, “If you had faith like a grain of mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you. “Will any one of you who has a servant plowing or keeping sheep say to him when he has come in from the field, ‘Come at once and recline at table’? Will he not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, and dress properly, and serve me while I eat and drink, and afterward you will eat and drink’? Does he thank the servant because he did what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were commanded, say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty.’ ”

It is an amazing thing to see a tree flying through the air. Dad, my brother, and I had great faith that the tree would fly that day, as we stood out in the middle of the cultivation. We were careful in our preparation; we drilled a hole deep down into the base of the tree as Dad prepared an inch piece of gelignite with a detonator and fuse wire. Now, this would not lift anything out of the ground, let alone a forty-metre-high gum tree. But it did make a nice reservoir down inside the base in which we could deposit the motherload of explosives.

My brother and I had great faith that the tree would fly that day as Dad slid stick after stick, down the inch hole into the reservoir, surgically giving each a prod with an old broom handle. I lost count after the twelfth stick of gelignite was delicately poked into the hole. Finally, Dad got to the last piece—another inch piece of gelignite, with detonator embedded and enough fuse wire running from it to ensure a safe escape once lit. We had great faith the tree was going to fly that day.

Dad fumbled with the matches. He must have known what havoc he was about to unleash in the quiet valley, only broken by the occasional aark-aark of an old black crow. He got a match to burn, grabbed the end of the fuse wire, and held the flame just under it. The yellow plastic around the fuse began to melt, and then all the sudden the wire began to hiss, warning us that the spark was on its way to the motherload. With great faith, Dad sprung onto the back of our old 1954 Land Rover and yelled, “OK, let’s get out-a-here!” He had great faith the tree was going to fly!

I turned on the key and hit the starter button—click click went the starter motor, and then nothing. My brother’s eyes grew to the size of saucers as I repeated the process again, only to hear the same click click. Just out of the corner of my eye, the hiss of the fuse disappeared down the hole, like a brown snake retreating down its hole. The fact that the fuse was now only three feet from its destination was not lost on the others as Dad alarmingly yelled, “Give her one more go and then we’ll have to run for it!” He had great faith the tree was going to fly!

I, on the other hand, didn’t have much faith in the old Land Rover. This old farm bomb had been through the wars—and a number of gates—when the brakes had failed to work. But there was no problem with stopping that day; rather, the problem was starting. This old farm bomb was about to go boom if we couldn’t get her to move.

But with the tension of an action Hollywood movie, I hit the starter button and two of the four cylinders sprung to life. I shoved her in gear and gave her a gutful of juice as I slammed my foot on the accelerator and took off. We had just enough time to get down the paddock, turn the Land Rover sideways, jump out and take cover behind it. With eyes wide, we watched—an almighty sonic boom reverberated up the valley as the tree began to defy gravity and lift from the ground like a spaceship taking off for the moon. We saw the tree fly. It was only for a moment until gravity took over once again and limbs, leaves and trunk came crashing back to earth. It was over. Now we had the tiresome task of picking up all the sticks scattered like shrapnel across the cultivation. But we were not disappointed! In fact, we were relieved that we lived to tell the tale of the tree that flew.

The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” He replied, “If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it will obey you.”

The poor apostles, bewildered as usual, asked for an increase in faith. And why did they ask for it? Well, just before this text, Jesus tells them about the rich man and Lazarus, whom we heard about last week, and then he instructs about sin by saying to them, “Things that cause people to sin are bound to come, but woe to that person through whom they come. It would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around his neck than for him to cause one of these little ones to sin. So watch yourselves. If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him. If he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times comes back to you and says, ‘I repent,’ forgive him.” Then the apostles said to Jesus, “Increase our faith!” (Luke 17:1–5)

This must have put the fear of God into them. In fact, Jesus gave them the law and it scared the living daylights out of them. The law showed them who they were; it showed them they were trapped in their old vehicles of sin, not going anywhere, while the fuse of life was burning to its end.

So, they asked for an increase in their faith as if this would cure all their problems. As if faith was an antidote for sin. Their faith was not one which saw the tree rip out of the ground and plant itself in the ocean; rather, their faith was one which foresaw the tree ripping from the ground and killing them. Their faith was a faith in their own ability to get themselves going and avoid ruin from the flying debris of sin. Just as Dad, my brother, and I put our faith in an old faulty Land Rover to take us out of the path of an exploding gum tree, they sought to place their faith in the faultiness of their sinful natures.

In Paul’s letters to the Romans and the Galatians (Rom 3:28, 5:1; Gal 2:16, 3:24), he talks about being justified by faith. What is being justified by faith? And weren’t the apostles seeking to do just that—to be justified by faith, to be made right by an increase in faith? Many churches today speak of being justified by faith but, like the apostles, lose sight of what this faith actually is, its source and destination, and what the word of God says about it. In fact, it is your problem too! So often our faith is one in which the mulberry tree—or the gum tree—is removed from the ground through the action and genius of me and you. Where is the faith in God?

Jesus knew the apostles’ wonky ploy; he saw their desire for justification through faith—but without grace. Jesus saw their desire for self-righteous justice rather than mercy through the grace of God. So, he showed the apostles, his right-hand men, the servants that they are, and replaced their question for an increase in faith with a servant’s plea—begging for mercy.

We don’t ask for faith that makes us powerful over sin. The speck of faith God gives us is enough for us to do the work he has called us to do and then look to him as servants still in need of mercy. The speck of faith God gives to us may be smaller than that of a mustard seed, but it enables us to look to God and trust in his grace.

In Ephesians 2:8–10, God’s word tells us, “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

We are justified by a faith not of our own, given to us as a gift by the Holy Spirit when we hear God’s word, and true faith always points us to the foot of the cross—our tree of life, our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. And, while we seek to be justified in Christ, it becomes evident that we ourselves are sinners (Gal 2:17); we are unworthy sinners; we are unworthy servants. However, through his power, we are severed from sin and are planted in the waters of baptismal life, where we can continually live by mercy in this stream of God’s grace. Amen.

C, Post-Pentecost 16, Proper 21 - Luke 16:19-31 & 1 Timothy 6:12 "Remember and Repent"

We have all done things in our lives that, the moment we’ve done them, we regret. In a second everything changes. Over and over in our minds we remember with such clarity, bit by bit, blow by blow, what occurred—but now it’s too late. It matters not how much we replay in our head how the events unfolded; we can’t take them back, nor the consequences, which after the fact cause so much torment in our remembrance. If only I hadn’t done this, then that wouldn’t have happened! The remembrance of deeds done wrong, whether deliberately or accidentally, makes the pain all the more hellish.

Jesus tells a parable about a nameless rich man and a remembered poor man, Lazarus—named and remembered by God, the angels, and Abraham. This parable reveals heaven and hades, before and after death; before and after the moment death stops us doing anything. In that second, we give up the fight and everything we once had control over.

Today we hear Saint Paul’s words to young pastor Timothy at the church in Ephesus. This is a church that is being tempted to return to Judaism and the synagogue, to the rigours of the law and circumcision, to put off the Holy Spirit and forget the work and reproach of Jesus Christ—to return and remember human works once again. But it’s also a church aroused by pagan Ephesian society, tempted to rethink the faith in Jesus Christ, to believe it is missing out on something, so it flees to the ways of the Greek goddess Artemis (or the Roman goddess Diana) and the temple priests who encourage female worship and idolatry.

To Timothy, Paul says: “Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and about which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses.” (1 Timothy 6:12 ESV)

One can fight for the faith, or fight against the faith. Similarly, one can flee to the faith, or flee from the faith. This is the plight of all human beings, as God watches to see if we remember and allow ourselves to be daily returned to the way of Jesus Christ and the cross—before that moment or second in time when our body can no longer take a breath and we take our last.

Picture your life as it is today. Now imagine your country, your town, your home being invaded by an aggressor. Everything you have, in the blink of an eye, becomes someone else’s property.

You no longer have control over yourself. You are taken by force and, having lost your identity, you are given a new one. It’s impersonal: a number is tattooed on you for identification. Your identity has no name, no gender—just a number in a vast expanse of other numbers. You’re used for whatever purpose your controller sees fit.

Your life today is gone in the blink of an eye; in an instant it is different. Freedom is gone. No longer rich or poor, you are someone else’s possession.

This very thing has happened throughout history as nations invade nations. It doesn’t even need to be annexation by another country. It has happened within countries where culture convulses and a revolution in ideals changes everything in a second. Last century the Bolsheviks overran Russia, and Fascists overran Germany. People lost everything—their property, their identity, and their freedom. Jews in Germany and Christians in Russia were considered second-class citizens, or worse, lower human lifeforms. Picture this against yourself, your time, and your possessions today. Would you survive?

The rich have a lot to lose. If the thought of loss like this frightens you, then perhaps you might consider yourself to be like the rich man in Jesus’ parable. He was tormented, having lost his riches in hades or hell. He was caused to remember what he had, what he lost, and this caused him to be tortured with torment. In that moment he went from wealth to wanting, from succulence to suffering, from delight to desperate desire—making it all the things hell and hades are: remembering in eternal separation. The eternal, “if only I had done that, then this would not be the reality!”

This is the picture of the rich man in the parable who eternally remembers and cannot repent, nor cross the chasm to comfort.

Opposite the rich man in the parable is Lazarus. Lazarus is known by the rich man, because he names him as he cries out from hell. But the rich man didn’t sustain Lazarus in his sumptuous and succulent lifestyle, even though he knew Lazarus was just outside his gate. Lazarus now stands with Abraham.

Abraham is the rich man of the Old Testament. Yet his wealth was more than his many possessions and people.  Rather, Abraham’s true wealth was his faithfulness towards God.  So, Lazarus stands in richness with Abraham who once was rich towards God but is now in God’s eternal richness. Abraham sought the kingdom of God and received it and more while he was alive.

Abraham calls the rich man to remember everything changes once death is in place. What carried the rich man while alive does not carry him anymore. His aggressive nature bound in human sin and self-centredness was not put aside to trust, give thanks, and supply those in need. Now he has an eternity, to remember the earthly opportunity he had to repent, to remember with regret that he chose not to repent, and to eternally remember his separation from God and God’s word of salvation and peace.

So how do I not become like the rich man with all the gifts God has given me? How do I become like Abraham, who trusted more the richness of God than the possessions he had? How can I be eternally comforted like Lazarus?

Notice the reality of Lazarus! Lazarus lay at the rich man’s gate. He could do nothing for himself. He desired what fell from the rich man’s table but lay outside without access. He was covered in sores, and they were licked by dogs.  He was doubly unclean. This poor Jew had no way of working his way into the richness of the rich man.

But not only notice Lazarus—notice you have need like Lazarus too. Despite the many riches you have, using them for security in this life or the next makes you doubly unclean. Like the rich man in the parable, trusting your earthly riches and not remembering from whom they came makes you poor.

Remembering and repenting now is better than remembering with regret in hades that “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” And “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.” (Matthew 5:3,6 ESV)

Today we all have many possessions, choices of identity, and ways to spend our time. All of them tempt us to build our own kingdoms, full of unclean idols leading to eternal death. How does one prepare themselves so there is no regret once death comes and our earthly choices are translated into an eternal and holy reality?

We return to what Paul instructed the Ephesians to do before Timothy was sent to be their pastor. He says: “Put on the whole armour of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armour of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm.” (Ephesians 6:11–13 ESV)

Like Lazarus, who lay at the gate unable to do anything, Paul calls the church to stand in the active victory of Christ, in God’s armour. He continues: “Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end, keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints.” (Ephesians 6:14–18 ESV)

God gives you the privilege to remember, reflect in his richness, repent, and stand in his armour before death comes and all is eternally set. Instead of failing in your poverty for eternal sustenance, allow the Holy Spirit to dress you with armour, allowing Christ’s victory to do its work. We stand in the good fight already fought and won at the cross.

With the active sword of the Spirit—the word of God—let the Holy Spirit help you see, like Lazarus, your helplessness, so you remember Jesus Christ now; so now you remember his victory for you; so in these days before death you allow the Holy Spirit to put you in good standing with God for peace through repentance.

There are no eternal regrets remembering and repenting this side of death. Amen.

Lord God, Heavenly Father, together with your Son Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit, you are the blessed and only Sovereign, the King of kings and Lord of lords, who alone has immortality, who dwells in unapproachable light, whom no one has ever seen or can see. Therefore, to you, Lord God, let us give honour and eternal dominion. Amen. 

C, Post-Pentecost 15, Proper 20 - Luke 16:1-13 "Management Mastery"

Luke 16:1–2 (ESV) Jesus also said to the disciples, “There was a rich man who had a manager, and charges were brought to him that this man was wasting his possessions. And he called him and said to him, ‘What is this that I hear about you? Turn in the account of your management, for you can no longer be manager.’”

We hear about mismanagement every day. We experience mismanagement in every facet of life. We see mismanagement occurring everywhere around us.

Fraudsters seem to have their fingers in every pie these days—Internet scams, overpricing, double-dipping, half-truths, con artists painting false pictures of the real situation, and political pork-barrelling to get votes and seize power.

We only have to look at our roads, the debt governments have incurred, and the increasing profits of multinational companies, executives, and politicians. We don’t have to look too hard to hear, see, and experience mismanagement in the Western world.  Managers not managing to manage!

Occasionally, we have the power to remove managers from their positions—at the polls, through motions of no confidence at meetings, or via legal proceedings. Despite this, there still seems to be a golden handshake for those who’ve mismanaged their responsibilities. So, in the scheme of it all, there’s a growing sense of helplessness in our society as “the rich get richer, and the poor get the picture.”

Today and next week, we hear about two rich men from Luke chapter sixteen. Today, the rich man is the master who removes his manager from management. Next week, we will hear about the rich man and Lazarus, who die and stand accountable before God.

So, I put this question to you: “What is being rich?” Or, “How much does one need to have to be considered wealthy?” “Do you consider yourself to be a rich person, a person of wealth?” In my experience, most people look to someone else who is rich—or richer than them. Often, we think of wealth in monetary terms or in one’s number of possessions.

Although we might consider someone else richer or wealthier than ourselves, that doesn’t necessarily mean we see ourselves as poor. This says much about the reality of our riches and how proud we have become of our wealth and possessions.

But whose possessions are they? We only need to be reminded of the rich fool and Jesus’ warning to us: “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.” (Luke 12:15 ESV)

I don’t believe anyone would enjoy hearing God say to you, “Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” Jesus concludes, “So is the one who lays up treasure for himself and is not rich toward God.” (Luke 12:20–21 ESV)

This rich fool mismanaged the possessions and life given to him. And when God required him to return the management of his life, he was found foolishly short in being rich toward God.

In the parable before us today, the manager is not the rich man, but only the manager of his master’s riches.

The master says, “What is this that I hear about you? Turn in the account of your management, for you can no longer be manager.” (Luke 16:2 ESV)

Just as we hear, see, and experience mismanagement by those called to manage our society today, the master’s attention is turned to the mismanagement of his dishonest manager in the parable. The master is about to end his management.

Although the manager may not have thought of himself as wealthy, he feared losing the management of his master’s wealth and becoming poor. Like the rich fool who did not recognize he only managed the riches of a greater master, the manager was about to lose his life and the riches of his master.

Humanity, from the beginning until now, has been called to manage the common wealth of God given to us in His creation. It’s always easy for us to see and point out the potholes in others’ mismanagement. But every one of us will be called upon to turn in our management and give an account.

How have you managed the riches God has given you?

In the parable, the dishonest manager takes the bill of one debtor and cuts it in half. For another, he reduces the debt so that only eighty percent needs repaying. And when Jesus tells us the master commends the dishonest manager for doing this, it’s easy for us to see the injustice and question: How can this be? Does the manager have the right to cut the master’s debt when one hundred percent should be paid back? It’s understandable that our sense of righteousness kicks in over the seeming injustice of the master’s commendation and the dishonest manager’s continued mismanagement.

Again, we can ask ourselves: “How have I managed the riches and wealth that God has given me?”

These are not just the riches of money and possessions, but the wealth of our time and our freedom too. Then there are the riches of ourselves—our talents, our relationships, our communications, our sexuality, our desires, and our deeds. Each of us can measure our management of God’s gifts by looking within to see where the glory of our management is going!

Going by our own sense of justice, shocked by the parable of the dishonest manager, one hundred percent should be given back to God for all the things we’ve mismanaged. That means every mismanaged feeling, desire, interaction with others, false witness, lustful glance, hateful thought, misuse of authority, and failure to submit to authority, requires one hundred percent repayment.

When God recalls your management at the end of this life, He requires an account. And by our own judgment, fifty or eighty percent repayment is not good enough. The debt of mismanagement must be repaid one hundred percent.

We feel the sting of our own justice bite us when we begin to contemplate the truth of our management. The reality that the removal of our management occurs in death is enough to grab our full attention. But having to give account of our management on judgement day, to receive a room in the house of God causes all to cry out over our mismanagement: “What shall I do, since my master is taking the management away from me? I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg.” (Luke 16:3 ESV) More so, digging or begging our way out of death and judgement is not possible either!

Unlike the dishonest manager who used unrighteous wealth to make friends and be welcomed into their houses, we can also use the righteous riches of God to receive others into his kingdom. We can cut the bill of others by forgiving them their sins. We can take what they owe and clear their debt.

“Clear their debt! How can this be?” you say! The manager in the parable only dropped the debt to eighty or fifty percent—not one hundred percent! However, Jesus tells us to pray, “Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.” (Matthew 6:12 ESV) Jesus one hundred percent forgives you your sin as you’re called to forgive other people one hundred percent of theirs.

Again, the sting of our own justice returns to bite us—or better still, the reality of our own dishonest and unrighteous management haunts us. Only having to be half-hearted or fifty percent repentant, or eighty percent forgiving, now sounds not too bad when it is our mismanagement of richness toward God at issue!

The gospel in this parable is not immediately apparent, even though the master commends the dishonest manager. Therefore, the good news for us is that Jesus takes our dishonest management and manages it in the richness of God’s debt removal at the cross. Not fifty percent, not eighty percent—but your management is one hundred percent shrewdly forgiven, despite it being recalled in death.

God the Father commends Jesus as the shrewd manager of your salvation and mine. You and I are received into the rooms of God’s eternal house—one hundred percent guaranteed—only because of Jesus. Our efforts are dishonest at best. Yet trusting in Jesus is the shrewdest thing any human can ever do.

While we are called here to manage God’s riches, we continually cry out to God in our mismanagement: “Forgive me my sins as I forgive those who sin against me!”

If God the Father is great enough to forgive your debt through the shrewdness of Jesus Christ at the cross, and the Holy Spirit rests upon us as He did on Jesus, trust that the Holy Spirit is working the riches of God’s wealth within the forgiven management of yourself—your talents, your time, and your possessions—given by God, for you to shrewdly glorify him, repenting of sin, forgiving others, and shrewdly managing the daily existence he has given, as you wait for him to end this management. Amen.