A sermon for the 15th Sunday after Pentecost: Proper 20
September 21, 2025, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR
Readings: Amos 8:4-7, Psalm 113, 1 Timothy 2:1-7, Luke 16:1-13
Sometimes Jesus gets on a roll about something. Week after week, we see the same theme pop up in the gospel readings, and we have to wonder, what’s going on? Lately Jesus has been on a roll about our possessions and our money. This week is no different. At the end of today’s reading, Jesus gives us a mic drop: “You cannot serve God and wealth,” he says.
To really see what’s going on here, we have to zoom out a little bit. This year, we are reading from the Gospel according to Luke. Luke, like Matthew and Mark, spends a lot of time on the life and teachings of Jesus. We hear Jesus’ parables, some of which we find in all the gospels, and some of which we only find in Luke. Like every book ever written, these gospels are all written with a particular audience in mind, and they’re not all the same. Luke is writing to a more elite audience, people who had money and possessions, who were higher up in the economic food chain, people more like you and me. And because of that, Jesus, this homeless rabbi with nothing to his name, talks about money and possessions a lot in Luke. It’s what Luke’s readers needed to hear the most, because for them, like for us, their money and possessions could be dangerous—they could separate them from God and their neighbor faster than anything else. But for them, like for us, their money and possessions could also be a blessing—they could bring them closer to God and their neighbor nearly faster than anything else.
It’s no wonder Luke talks about money so much, then. Just in this section of Luke, we hear Jesus say, none of you can become my disciple unless you give up all your possessions. We hear the story of the prodigal son, who squanders his money on dissolute living. Next week, we will hear about the rich man and Lazarus, the poor beggar who laid at his gate, day after day. When they die, they each get their reward. And today, we get the parable of the dishonest manager. For my money, one of the hardest parables in the gospels.
The first thing we need to know about this parable is just what we’ve been discussing. It is set in this larger context of Jesus talking about our money and possessions. Jesus has been saying all along, be careful of where you put your trust. Do not put your trust in wealth and possessions, because they pass away. Put your trust in God, for God will never abandon you, never forsake you, never pass away. This parable, in the end, has the same message: put your trust in God, not in wealth. You cannot serve both God and wealth. Wealth, here, is actually the word “Mammon.” It means, “that which one trusts.” It is elevating wealth to the status of a god. Jesus is telling them and us, do not do that. You must choose: will I serve, will I trust, will I have faith in and work for God, or for Mammon?
Jesus tells us there is a rich man, an absentee landowner, who has a manager. The listeners of Jesus would have been familiar with these absentee landowners; all of the land was owned by rich people far away, and none of the profits of that land stayed with the people working the land. This manager, Jesus tells us, squanders the rich man’s property. It’s the same verb as when the prodigal son squanders his inheritance; the Greek word means “scattering,” throwing money to the wind. So the rich man fires him and demands an accounting, a record of all debts. This manager is out, and he has to make way for someone else.
In the world of Jesus, this was a serious problem. People lived and worked in a patronage system. Everyone had a patron, or someone who looked out for them and made sure they were taken care of. King Herod had a patron—it was the emperor and imperial authorities. Jesus had patrons; the gospel of Luke tells us that wealthier women, like Mary Magdalene, provided for Jesus and his disciples. This manager’s patron was the rich man, but no longer. Without a patron, the manager knows he will have to do hard manual labor or live in complete destitution. The manager tells himself, I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg. So what does he do? He works the system to his advantage.
One by one, he calls the debtors in. What do you owe my master? He cuts it. Instead of 100 jugs of olive oil, quickly make it 50. Instead of 100 containers of wheat, quickly make it 80. He hauls in the liabilities, the debts, but at a reduction. He’s likely not cheating the owner here. Under this economic system, he was allowed to charge a commission. When he reduces the debts, he is likely cutting off his commission. But in doing so, he is indebting those people to him. They know what he’s doing to help them out, and now they owe him one. The manager may be dishonest, but he is also shrewd. When he’s thrown out of his current job, he will have other patrons who will welcome him.
Jesus seems to hold up this dishonest manager as some kind of exemplar to us. And that’s where the tricky part of this parable comes in. Jesus is saying that it is good to be shrewd, just as this manager is shrewd. But unlike this manager, we do not work for Mammon. We work for a different god, the true and living God, and we work for the Kingdom of God. We trust in a different system; our patron is none other than Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
We have to be shrewd enough to know that how we use our resources, how we use our position and power, how we use our money and possessions, all of this has consequences, not only for this life, but for the life to come. All of this matters; all of it affects our relationship with God. Like the dishonest manger, we have to know that our actions now will impact our future, not only tomorrow, but for eternal life.
But we work for a different boss. We work in a different system. Where the manager tried to make friends for himself among the rich, the powerful, those who could take him in and give him an advantage, we make friends for ourselves among the poor, the vulnerable, the needy, those who have no one else in this world, the lonely and the prisoner. We make friends for ourselves among those who cannot pay us back in this life. We do this by working for their well-being and welfare, ensuring that even they have the respect and dignity all people deserve. After all, our boss, our patron, was a man who had no place to lay his head. Our master was a vagabond, at the edges of society, ridiculed and mocked. Our patron was crucified as a criminal, scourged and beaten, buried in a borrowed tomb, forsaken.
Do our choices reflect who our Lord is? Are we working for ourselves, for our own advantage, or for him? No slave can serve two masters, Jesus says. You cannot serve God and wealth. You cannot serve your own self-interest and the interests of the poor, the friendless, the needy. You cannot work to build your own kingdom and work for the Kingdom of God.
Choose this day whom you will serve.