Not the MBA We Bargained For
Luke 16:1-13
September 22, 23, 2007

Some of you are aware that our daughter, Heather, recently graduated from Murray State University with a degree in organizational communications. She is now discovering the challenges of moving from the classroom to the workroom. Her mother and I have made a deal with her that we will help her move to Nashville where she explore her passion for music—as long as she gets a real job first. Not that there aren’t real jobs in the music industry. It’s just that in Nashville, there are more musicians than people. I think she assumed that this process would be easy. But she has had a number of interviews and received nothing but frustration so far.

Her experience reminds me of the brilliant young man who just completed his MBA degree. He was excited to be able to interview with a prestigious accounting firm. Toward the end of the interview, the human resources person asked, “And what starting salary do you expect?” The young man said, “In the neighborhood of $250,000 a year, depending on the benefits package.” The interviewer said, “Well, how about a package of six-weeks of vacation, 14 paid holidays, full medical and dental coverage, a company-matching retirement fund of 50 percent of your salary, and a company car leased every two years—say, a red Corvette?” The young man’s eyes sparkled, he sat straight up in his chair, and he said, “Wow! Are you kidding?” The interviewer said, “Yes. But you started it.”

WHEN WE HEAR THIS STORY THAT JESUS TELLS ABOUT ANOTHER ACCOUNTANT, WE MIGHT HAVE THE SAME QUESTION: “ARE YOU KIDDING?” This parable is one of the most difficult and embarrassing stories in Scripture! “Make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes.” The 4th-century Roman emperor Julian proclaimed that this text was an attempt to discredit Christianity as a religion of scoundrels. Marxist interpreters have seen in this story an argument for the common people to struggle against the ruling capitalist class.

One scholar describes the enormous literature that has been written about this parable as a “jungle of explanations.” Lloyd Ogilvie, who served as the chaplain for the U. S. Senate, stated: “There is no parable with as many enticing dead-end possibilities as this one.” One of my favorite authors, Frederick Buechner, offers this point of view about difficult parables in his book Wishful Thinking. He says, “A parable is a small story with a large point.” “Most of the ones Jesus told have a kind of sad fun about them.” “The parables of the Crooked Judge, the Sleepy Friend, and the Distraught Father are really jokes in their way, at least part of whose point seems to be that a silly question deserves a silly answer.” “The point of the Unjust Steward is that it’s better to be a resourceful rascal than a saintly schlemiel.” Buechner says: “With parables and jokes both, if you have to have it explained, don’t bother.” So there’s a part of me that wants to respect Buchner’s perspective.

Perhaps we shouldn’t bother wrestling with this text? Haven’t we heard our share of accountant stories and jokes? Of course, all of the accountants in our congregation do their work with great honesty and integrity—but you have heard about others, haven’t you? Like the two accountants who were in a bank when armed robbers burst in. The robbers lined up everybody and began to take their money and valuables. While this was happening, the first accountant stuck something into the second accountant’s hand. Without looking down, the second accountant whispered, “What is this?” The first accountant said, “It’s that $50 I owe you.” Or you’ve heard about the ex-Enron accountant, who was shopping for a tombstone. After he had made his selection, the stonecutter asked him what he would like inscribed on it. The accountant said, “Here Lies an Honest Man and an Enron Accountant.” The stonecutter said, “Sorry, but I can’t do that; in this state, it’s against the law to bury two people in the same grave.” Buechner says that if you have to explain jokes and parables like these, don’t bother.

BUT PERHAPS PARABLES ARE MEANT TO BOTHER US? A rich landowner acts on the suspicion that his business manager has squandered his funds and embezzled his fortune. The books are seized, the manager is fired, and we assume he is guilty. Steamrolled by this wheel of misfortune, the manager laments: “What will I do, now that my master is taking the position away from me?” “Woe is me—I am not strong enough to dig.”
“And I am ashamed to beg.” To save face, he devises his own New Deal—a clever plan for his own social security! Since he hasn’t been thrown in jail with O. J. yet, he seizes the opportunity to network with his master’s debtors before his story hits the headlines. He reduces what is probably his commission or the “interest” portion of their debts—a reduction that could have been as much as 50%. Just as they are with new car shoppers, these no interest loans are a big hit with the customers! His scheme becomes a brilliant win-win-win situation! The rich landowner is glorified and praised in the minds of his debtors for his apparent generosity. The Master Card debt is greatly reduced for the debtors. And the manager provides for his own future security. If we draw parallels from the parable, in the strangest of ways, the manager has completed the Great Commandment trifecta—love of God, love of neighbor and love of self!

But the story doesn’t end with the praise of the shrewd steward. Incredibly, the landowner marvels at his manager’s ingenuity. Then Jesus offers this puzzling proclamation that we, too, should make friends by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome us into the eternal homes.” Jesus implies that in this parable, the landowner is God—the real star of this story. This landowner, this God of ours, not once—but twice provides for the salvation of the manager. First, he refuses to throw him in prison. Second, gracefully, the landowner applauds the shrewdness by which the manager has accomplished so much with so little. The creativity is praiseworthy—not the dishonesty.

But is Jesus supporting the secular ethic that the end justifies the means? Or maybe that’s not it at all? Could it be that this parable is just one grand ironical story? Maybe Jesus means the opposite of what he says? “You think you’re so smart, deceiving your master to feather your future nest, finding favor now to gain favors later!”
“You think you are so much smarter than children of light!” “So go ahead and make these kinds of friendships, continue in your deceitful ways, and accumulate dishonest wealth.” This line of thinking would make more sense verses 10-13—especially the pointed remark: “You cannot serve God and wealth.” Or perhaps that’s not it at all?

MAYBE WE SHOULD BOTHER TO THINK ABOUT THIS PARABLE—OR AT LEAST, LET IT BOTHER US? Perhaps we need to sit with this parable, or, better, let it sit with us? Some of Jesus’ stories are pretty straightforward. But this one isn’t—and we can’t turn to the back like some middle-school math books to find the answer. Sometimes the road to understanding is not easy. We end up in more theological culs-de-sac than freeways. Nevertheless, we should stay with this parable, insistent, like Jacob of old, that we will not let go until some insight comes to us. Perhaps in some of these teachings of Jesus, there is more than we bargained for? Not too long ago an insurance and financial services company released a series of interesting and intriguing commercials. In one scene there is a lone canoe being paddled across a calm lake—but the line that appeared on the screen after a few moments was: “This is not a canoe; it is an aerobic workout before breakfast.” Another scene showed an oversized tractor combine being driven down a rural road—the line read: “This is not a farmer; it is an investor driving his capital investment.” Another scene depicted a young girl turning somersaults with her friends in an open field—the line read: “This is not a gymnast; it is a future physicist learning about gravity.” The message of the commercials was effective. What we saw on the screen was not wrong. It just didn’t embrace the full-range of possibilities.

The witness of our faith and the Scriptures are full of these more-than-we-bargained-for images. There are people and their possessions moving across a deserted expanse—and there is the line: “This is not moving day; it is a group of the faithful following the voice of God.” There is a man—laughing, shouting, jumping, skipping down the road—and there is the line: “This is not the first time he’s been down this road; it is the first time he’s been able to see where he’s going.” There is a scene—a small cave in the side of a hill—and there is the line: “This is not an ancient gravesite; it is the opening to unbelievable possibilities!” And I have seen your faces in faith commercials. There is a scene—a career professional leaves the corporate world. Conventional wisdom describes it as burnout. Spiritual insight recognizes a new sense of priorities and a desire to serve others. There is a scene—a person chooses to share sacrificial gifts with the church and helping agencies. Conventional wisdom says it is a waste of earning power. Spiritual insight recognizes an investment in the realm of God. There is a scene—a group of people take time away from work or donate vacation time to prepare a home for a refugee family or go on a mission trip. Conventional wisdom says that vacation time should only be used for rest and relaxation.Spiritual insight recognizes that these people are living out the Great Commandment.

Perhaps Jesus wants us to know that there is more to this life than wheelin’ and dealin’, merger-mania, downsizing, outsourcing, bottom-lining, overloading and downloading, being stressed-out, burned out, and boxed in, hypertensive and supersensitive? This God-life enables us to live with a deeper sense of meaning—defying the conventional wisdom of our day and time. It goes above and beyond and beneath. This God-life is much, much more than we bargained for.