Marked Down

September 19, 2022 + Lectionary 25c + Luke 16:1-13 + Pr. Craig Mueller

Maybe you’re like me. And you’re drawn to things that are marked down. Clothing on the sale rack. Deals at the grocery store. Used books, furniture, and other treasures you can find on, of all places Craig’s List.

Funny how many people we mark down these days. Politicians. Narcissists. Racists. Fundamentalists. And the extreme mark-downs: pedophiles and mass shooters.

Queen Elizabeth may have gotten high marks. Yet think of the low approval ratings of recent presidents and members of congress. Our reading from First Timothy urges something rather radical: pray for those in authority, for those in high positions.

Does Jesus ever get marked down?

People are always Jesus down for hanging with the wrong type of folk.  And it’s usually the wealthy or the overly religious or the ones with their minds made up that scoff at such things of God, then and now.

Today’s parable gets some of his lowest marks. Why? Jesus seems to be praising dishonesty. He is holding up an anti-hero: a scoundrel, a crook, a manager praised for being shrewd.

Scholars turn summersaults trying to get in the mind of Jesus, or the gospel-writer Luke, or the social and economic context. But in the end, we are befuddled. Left with more questions than answers. Maybe that’s the point of parables. Maybe that’s the point of life, sometimes.

To our Western, relatively wealthy ears, we look down on the manager. We mark him down because he squanders his master’s—the rich landlord’s—property. And then his boss pink-slips him. The manager’s got to do something to keep his job. So one by one he marks down his master’s debtors. One owes a hundred jugs of olive oil. He marks it down to fifty. Another owes a hundred containers of wheat. He marks it down to eighty.

And then, of all things, the dishonest manager is praised for acting shrewdly. And Jesus encourages us to make friends with dishonest wealth, whatever that means.

The system is rigged, right? Some people will do whatever they can to get ahead, to win, to make money, to succeed. Even at the expense of the little guy.

But it’s the way things are, right? Nothing new. In Amos’ day the system was rigged. Prophet-man Amos marks down—downright condemns—unjust systems, shady practices that benefit the rich at the expense of the most needy.

Corruption these days seems endless. Everybody out for themselves. Calling out—marking down—everyone but themselves. Seemingly no concern for the future of the planet. No concern for those without a voice. No concern for those who—though equal to everyone else—don’t start out equally. Their lives marked down due to limited opportunity, or ability, or the scorn of others.

Some of us are born with a lot more access to wealth, education, and upward mobility. It’s easy for us to shake our finger at others less fortunate and blame the victim—marking them down, accusing them of being lazy, an addict, or not motivated enough to succeed. But not understanding their story, their background, the odds they have faced.

One Bible paraphrase called The Message, has a twist on the doosie part of today’s gospel:

“Now here’s a surprise: The master praised the crooked manager! And why? Because he knew how to look after himself. Streetwise people are smarter in this regard than law-abiding citizens. They are on constant alert, looking for angles, surviving by their wits. I want you to be smart in the same way—but for what is right.”

So use your smarts, use your wits, not just to accumulate wealth. But for the sake of authentic relationships. For the common good. To raise up those society marks down. Immigrants at our border. Those seeking justice. Those at the bottom of the heap. Those without a voice.

Martin Luther says it plainly. Mammon—our money and possessions—is the most common idol on earth. It is easy to fix our trust on the market as God, in our financial portfolios, and the abundance of stuff in our houses and garages.

In other words, unless we make friends with our money, our wealth, our resources—and not cling to them, but share generously—these assets will end up controlling us.

Today we baptize three children. In a world that marks people down, we will teach them to raise people up. In a world, that holds up mismanagement as a means to get ahead, we seek honesty and authenticity. In a world that thrives on profit alone, we model gratitude for the gift of each day.

We baptize children and adults into a countercultural relationship with wealth. Remember the popular proverb ab out money: you can’t take it with you. We are simply stewards of the earth, our stuff, and our money—on loan to us.

Thank you for your financial support, your prayers, your encouragement, your partnership. This faith community is a treasure dear to many of us. Together we can make a difference. So be shrewd with all you have been given—your very selves, your time, your possessions, your talents, your gifts. Be as passionate about spiritual wealth as the balances in your accounts. Be as astute with sharing your riches as managing your investments.

What if we heard this story from the perspective of those in debt? Imagine being a poor migrant worker in the US or a developing country. To have your debt forgiven—marked down— is pure grace. It doesn’t make sense. It isn’t fair. But grace isn’t fair either, is it? After all, the reign of God isn’t Western economics. It is an entirely different divine accounting based not on merit, but mercy.

For even when we squander what has been entrusted to us, God is always marking down debt. Always forgiving. Always extending mercy.

Rather than hoarding, let us be about dispossessing. Let us be about letting go. Let us be about extending grace to the underserving and the unsuspecting. Moving away from a tit-for-tat way of looking at the world. To a divine economics full of surprising mark-downs.

Not just for you but for everybody.

Compassion. Mark it down.

Grace. Mark it down.

Mercy. Mark it down.

It makes no sense. But maybe that’s the point.