How to Invest Your One and Only Life
Created for Significance. Week 4
CCCAG March 28th, 2021
Scripture: Luke 16:1–13 (reading it as we go through)
Prayer
Anyone who has raised more than one child knows that, because each of them has a unique temperament and motivational style, you often speak differently to one child than to the other.
Anyone who has been part of a group knows that there are times when you speak differently to those inside the group than to those outside the group. In fact, even within a group, because there are often the curious and the casual, as well as the committed, often the way a person talks to the various types inside the group differs.
Know what I’m saying?
Well, over the past three weeks, we’ve been listening to Jesus tell stories to one type of people. In Luke 14 and 15, he’s surrounded by highly trained and highly (but falsely) confident religious types called Pharisees.
In Luke 14 and 15, Jesus has all sorts of stories to tell these people; stories so good they’ve been recorded, read, and learned countless times in the last two thousand years. If you’ve been here the past three weeks, you know that those stories are the stories of the great banquet, the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the wayward son.
But while Jesus is telling those stories, he’s aware of another group that’s listening in. A group, not that opposed him, like the Pharisees, but a group supporting him. A group of insiders. A group so committed to him that they had bet the farm that following him was the best decision for their lives and eternities.
So in Jesus’ typical fashion, when he gets through talking with the outsiders, he turns to these close followers, and talks to them awhile. He tells them a very intriguing story about a scoundrel who’d bet the farm on a person he had offended. A person he had mistreated. But because of the character of the mistreated one, the scoundrel won the bet and secured his prosperous future.
That’s the story I want to tell you today.
Like last week, I’m going to pretend that you know virtually nothing about first century Palestinian culture, and give you all sorts of brain candy to chew on so that you can see this story in the way the original hearer saw it.
When he finishes addressing the Pharisees, Jesus turns to his disciples and tells them the story of the shrewd manager.
It’s a story about a rich guy, a nobleman, who finds out that he’s being cheated by one of his employees. He fires the employee, who then does something very creative and unethical to ensure his future. The twist to the story is, instead of being outraged at this, the nobleman praises the manager for being a shrewd operator.
For centuries, this story has confounded logical, right-brained Western thinkers, because, for the life of them, they can’t understand why Jesus or the character that represents God in the story would praise someone for doing something unethical.
They’ve come up with a lot of theories of how this might work or what’s wrong with the story. But all of them miss the mark unless they know something about Middle Eastern culture.
The story of the shrewd manager is a story Jesus tells in four scenes:
1. In the master’s office. This is where the scoundrel gets word that he’s fired
2. On the way to get the books. This is where some huge thinking goes on, revealing what this unscrupulous manager knows to be true about the man he’s been cheating, even though the man has treated him so well.
3. With the books. This is where the manager works the plan he hatched on the way to get the books. And the plan works flawlessly.
4. In the master’s office (again). This is where the climax comes.
Let me walk you through each of these scenes
Scene One: In the master’s office.
In this scene, three characters are introduced, though only two of them are actually in the room.
The first character is the master. He’s a wealthy Middle Eastern landowner. Jesus calls him, “a rich man” and tells us that the people in the area respect him so much that many of them come to him to tell him that his manager is cheating him.
Jesus’ exact words are, “There was a rich man whose manager was accused of wasting his possessions” (Luke 16:2). The tense of the verb in the original language indicates that the manager was accused repeatedly of this kind of embezzlement.
So the master asks him about it, calmly and graciously. He doesn’t scold, berate, or threaten. He doesn’t demand repayment or put the manager in jail, which were well within his rights. He’s an impressive landlord.
The second character is the manager. He’s an agent for the master, a middle man, managing property and assets that don’t belong to him. Only he’s not managing them, he’s mismanaging them.
He’s an educated man, who has worked all his life with people, contracts, and records. In our world, he has an MBA and handles runs the company for the boss.
The third group in this scene is hinted at, but not present. They are the debtors. These are the peasant farmers who live on the land as sharecroppers. Every year each of them negotiates with the master, through the manager, to farm a certain number of acres. In exchange for the right to farm, the master gets a specified amount of wheat, olive oil, or whatever product they are farming.
It is the peasants who have blown the whistle on the shrewd manager.
That’s the set up for the action. The entire action of scene one takes place in two sentences, both from the lips of the master.
The first sentence is a question. The master calls the manager into his office and says, “What’s this I hear about you?”
All the listeners hearing Jesus story would expect one and only one response to a question like this: silence
And in Jesus’ story, the manager doesn’t disappoint them. The received answer: silence
The manager is smart enough not to give any answer because he doesn’t know what the master knows about his dealings. Does he know everything, or just one or two incidents? He doesn’t want to confess to any more than the master can already prove.
So he stays quiet.
The master delivers the second sentence. He gives the manager his dismissal. “You can no longer be manager,” he says.
Translated: Donald Trump- Your fired!
At this point, all the listeners expect to hear a debate or argument from the manager. There are a lot of things he can say to defend himself. He can blame others. He can claim ignorance or that it was all just an oversight. He can put the onus on the master himself. This is the time for him to explain why he’s innocent and ought to be retained.
But to the surprise of listeners, the manager stays silent (received response: silence).
Silence is supremely significant in this setting. The manager is indirectly affirming at least the following:
1. I’m guilty.
2. The master knows I’m guilty.
3. This master expects obedience; disobedience brings judgment.
4. I can’t get my job back by offering excuses.
This manager, this shrewd manager, doesn’t dwell on how he can get his job back. He knows he can’t. All his energy is focused on the future and what he’s going to do now that he’s unemployed.
Before he even leaves his boss’ office, he begins processing everything he knows and weighing all his options.
The master has told him he’s fired, and that he must turn in the company books. So now what’s he going to do?
He’s thinking about this as he leaves the office. As he closes the door, he thinks to himself, “At least he didn’t throw me in jail.” The Mishna, the Jewish book of commentary on the Old Testament, makes it quite clear that an agent was expected to pay for any loss for which he was responsible. The master hasn’t even asked that of him. He’s not even scolded. He just releases him.
“He is a merciful man,” thinks the manager as he walks into scene two.
Scene Two: On the way to get the books.
The master has said, “Give an account of your management” (Luke 16:2).
How does an accountant account for his work? He keeps records. In Middle Eastern culture, when a person is fired, they’re fired on the spot. No severance pay, no sixty days’ notice. This guy is terminated. He is now powerless, friendless, and without a job.
He only has one task left to do: turn in the books.
So on his way, he is thinking furiously, “What shall I do now? My master is taking away my job” (Luke 16:3).
He multiplies his options, “I’m not strong enough to dig, and I’m ashamed to beg” (Luke 16:3).
While he’s walking, his mind is whirring and spinning. And it hatches a plan. The plan is based on everything he knows about the master.
His thinking goes like this: I have been manipulating another man’s money for years, and everyone around here knows it. I’m too weak for manual labor, and begging is beneath my social station, so what am I going to do?
His problem: who will hire me? His answer: no one. They all know his reputation. Nobody likes him, or they wouldn’t have turned him in. Nobody trusts him. There is no way in his current state of popularity he could hope to get a job. His reputation won’t allow it.
So he thinks and thinks and comes up with a solution, not based on his reputation, but on his master’s reputation. The solution he comes up with?
Trust in the master’s mercy!
After all, this is a man who was so kind, he didn’t even reprimand the manager when he let him go. He didn’t demand repayment. He didn’t make a fuss! This man is generous! This man is merciful!
“I know what I’ll do,” he says, “I’ll stake my entire future on the master’s reputation!”
And he does.
Scene Three: With the Books
Scene three reveals the plan he’s hatched. Ironically, the plan has everything to do with the master and nothing to do with the manager.
The manager has to move fast, he knows, because his entire future depends on changing the villagers’ perceptions of him, so that one of them will give him a job. He’s got to change the minds of his master’s debtors, and he’s got to do it before they discover that he no longer has any power or authority. Everything that takes place in this scene comes from the mind of the manager and is based on two assumptions.
The manager knows that, for his plan to work, the debtors must assume two things. First, the debtors must assume that the manager is still in authority. They must believe that he still works for the master. They must believe that he still manages the legal contracts between them and the master.
So as soon as he gets back to his office, he finds one of the servants and says, “Summon all my master’s debtors.”
The peasants don’t know that he’s been fired. They assume his summons is an official one, sanctioned by the master, so they come.
As soon as the first tenant farmer shows up, he pulls his contract out of the file, lays it down in front of him and says, “Quick, how much do you owe my master?” (Luke 16:5).
The farmer says, “Eight hundred gallons of olive oil” (Luke 16:6).
“The manager told him, ‘Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it four hundred’” (Luke 16:6).
He calls the next one in, lays his contract in front of him, “Then he asked the second, ‘And how much do you owe?’ ’A thousand bushels of wheat,’ he replied. ‘Take your bill and make it eight hundred’” ( Luke 16:7).
In actual monetary value, the debts are both reduced by the same amount: 500 denarii. The manager isn’t thinking percentages, he’s thinking speed. He knows he must complete every deal before a servant walks in and says, “Hey! I heard you were just fired!” If that happens, his plan collapses and he goes to jail.
The second assumption the debtors must hold is that the master has approved of this debt-reduction.
If not, they’ll never go along with it, they’ll never change their perceptions of him, and he has no future at all.
But, lightning fast, he pulls it off. One by one the tenant farmers come and they all have their bills reduced.
This is the great betting of the farm. The manager is risking everything based on what he knows about his master; that the master is generous and merciful. If this is true, if the master really is generous and merciful, he’ll be okay. If he’s wrong, it’s Prison. He bets the farm. He stakes everything on this. Everything on the mercy of the master.
Now, reducing bills like this was not unheard of, but it was rare. Jewish law provides for rent reductions when trees die, a blight spreads, or when the winter is particularly harsh, but discussions of this kind never begin with the owner. They always begin with the renter. The renter, having been wiped out by a flood or having a locust plague, would petition the landlord for a reduced fee. But never would the landlord initiate the process. Never.
So each farmer is astounded when he sees his bill and hears the words “rent reduction.” They all wonder how they could be so fortunate. And the manager is only too happy to tell them.
“Well,” he says, “I caught the old man in the good mood and decided to see if I could do something for you. Actually, I’ve been working on this for quite some time, and it all came together today.” The reduction may come from the master, but the manager lets it be known that the idea came from him!
And do the villagers respond?
Imagine getting a call from the last salesmen who sold you a car, and the guy is saying to you, “Have you gotten the check yet?”
“What check?”
“The check that’s coming from the dealership. I convinced the manufacturer to give you a $5000 rebate, for no particular reason, just because I’m a good guy and these people listen to me.”
Who’s your new best friend?
Only these guys haven’t gotten a $5,000 rebate. Five hundred denarii is equivalent to a year-and-a-half’s
pay. So it’s more like a $50,000 rebate.
As quick as he can, the manager gathers up all the freshly-reduced contracts and dashes back to the master’s office.
This marks the beginning of scene four.
Scene Four: In the master’s office (again).
This is where, to those who understood how things worked in Middle Eastern culture, everything becomes clear.
As the manager reaches the master’s office, the ink is still wet on the contracts. The master can see what’s happened. He’s no dummy. And he can hear evidence too. Because already, in the streets, the tenant farmers are throwing a party, celebrating the name of their most generous landlord! Never before in history has there been a man as wonderful, as kind, as noble, and as deserving of loyalty and praise as this master! Never before has a landlord reduced rents just because he’s a generous person!
So what does the master do?
He reflects on his choices for a minute: reputation or money? For a man of character, it’s a no-brainer. He turns to the manager and says, “Shrewd move. Shrewd move. You are a rascal, but a wise rascal.”
Middle Easterners still tell a story today about a condemned murderer during the days of the famous sultan, Saladin. The killer was condemned to death and kept crying, “I want to see the Sultan.” Finally he was taken to see Saladin, where he cried out, “O most gracious Sultan, my sins are great, but the mercy of the Sultan is greater.” And he was released.
This is very difficult for the Western mind to grasp. But for the Eastern mind, reputation is everything.
The Bible reflects this mindset when it says, “A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold” (Prov. 22:1).
See how this story nets out?
Jesus is saying, “The shrewd move is to trust the master. The shrewd move is to bet the farm that he’s generous and merciful.”
Many years ago, a pastor asked a question that I’ve never forgotten. He said, “What are you going to do with your one and only life that will last for eternity?”
I think that’s pretty close to the question Jesus is raising in this parable.
What are you going to do with the one asset you have?
A shrewd guy uses what he has to gain a future for himself.
In the verse that immediately follows the story, Jesus gives the first of three lessons from the story.
He says, “I tell you, use your worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings” (Luke 16:9).
Translated: You only have one life. Use it to enhance your future. Use it to build friendship with people who can say to you someday in heaven, “Thanks. Thanks. I’m here because of you.”
This verse should make us ask ourselves “What should I do with what’s been entrusted to me?” And it begged the answer: invest it in making friends for eternity!
See, I want heaven to be a place that welcomes me and all my friends because we helped steer people there.
The second lesson Jesus teaches at the end of this story is this. He says, “Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much. So if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches? And if you have not been trustworthy with someone else’s property, who will give you property of your own?” (Luke 16:10-13).
I think this is Jesus’ way of asking, “Do you want a big kingdom assignment here and in heaven, or do you want a little assignment here and there?”
I think verses 10–13 are asking me the question, “What do I want entrusted to me?” And the principle behind the question is, the better I invest what I have, the more will be entrusted to me.
And then the final lesson: Jesus says, “No servant can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money” (Luke 16:13).
This verse asks the question, can I invest my life in two places? Can I work on my own stockpile over here and run across and work on God’s stockpile effectively, too? Can I ride the fence? Can I have it both ways?
What’s the answer friends? No! You cannot serve two masters.
So I want to invite all of you who feel like you’re on the fence about becoming fully devoted to Christ to hop down from the fence, and bet the farm. You’ll never regret it.
Altar call
