Sermon preached by The Reverend Dr. Harold T. Lewis

SERMON PREACHED BY THE REVEREND DR. HAROLD T. LEWIS, RECTOR CALVARY EPISCOPAL CHURCH, PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA ON THE SIXTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST 19 SEPTEMBER 2004



"The children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light." (Luke 16:8)

Reading the headlines would lead one to believe that dishonesty is part and parcel of the American way of life. A few years ago, how many people blinked an eyelash when the Board of Directors of Enron, in its avaricious quest for wealth and power, voted to suspend its own code of ethics? Just this week, a famous personality, affectionately called "The Kitchen Diva," for whom, previously, a criminal act would have been a fallen soufflé, is about to enter prison to serve a sentence for lying to a jury about insider stock trading. As we continue to be embroiled in the Iraqi war, the legacy of another ill-fated war a generation ago has come back to haunt both Presidential candidates. Specifically, questions about honesty are looming large. Were medals of valor fraudulently obtained? Was there blood when wounds were inflicted? Were personnel records doctored? Was family influence used to get into and out of military service?

Dishonesty is big news because telling the truth is something which is ingrained in us from Day One. The lesson is drummed in at the dining room table and in the kindergarten classroom. The Ninth Commandment underscores that lesson. And for good measure, there is the apocryphal tale in American folklore about the "father of our country." Little Georgie Washington comes clean about having chopped down the cherry tree. This is why today's Gospel lesson is so troubling. Not because the protagonist is a dishonest man --- he certainly has company in the Bible ---- but because his dishonest behavior seems to be commended.

But was it? The steward in the story experiences something many of us have experienced at one time or another --- getting fired. In 1964, the summer after my freshman year at college, I worked at a restaurant at the World's Fair in New York. It was called The Top of the Fair, because of the panoramic view of the exposition that could be seen from the picture windows about 20 stories up. My job was to go to each table with a portable warming oven strapped over my shoulder, and elegant silver tongs in my hand, and I would say to each diner: "Muffins: raisin, bran or corn?" I felt like a cigarette girl in a 1930s movie. Well, anyhow, I was fired from that job. I wasn't sure if it was because I was habitually late --- it was a complicated subway ride from my house in Brooklyn --- or because I helped myself to too much shrimp cocktail. But pink slip in hand, like the steward, I contacted a few people who I thought could help me out of my predicament, and by the following Monday morning I was working as an assistant teacher in Operation Head Start.

Look at the parable carefully. The dishonest steward wasn't commended for dishonesty. Luke tells us: "His master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly." And mind you, this was the master who, because of his employee's shrewdness, had been cheated out of his rightful income.

In what way was the steward shrewd? First, he did a quick self-assessment. Without the benefit of a consultant or an out-placement firm, he figured out that a) he had had a pretty cushy job. It gave him some status, since he was the representative of an important and wealthy man; b) having had this position, the tin cup route was out of the question; and c) given his exalted opinion of himself, he definitely did not want to do manual labor. Next, he comes up with a plan of action. He lines up the people in debt to his master and makes them instead indebted to him. So the master commends him because whereas before he squandered money, now he is using it to his advantage.

What does Jesus say about all this? He says the children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than the children of light. Who are the children of this age? People with street smarts, savvy --- let's call them businessmen --- or Congressional lobbyists. Who are the children of light? Good Bible-reading, God-fearing, church-going Christian folk. Jesus basically tells us that the former group is knowledgeable, the latter naïve. How do businessmen handle money? Lavishly. Big expense accounts used to win friends and influence people. They wine and dine clients at three-Martini lunches, or treat them to tickets on the 50-yard line or whatever, in order to make clients believe that there is more where that came from. The company is solvent and generous. The clients leave feeling, "we're in good hands with them." What do the children of light do with their money? We equate "being a good steward" with being tight, prudent, watching each dime, not wasting money on others, saving it for the proverbial rainy day. The advice in the Gospels notwithstanding, we do lay up for ourselves treasures upon earth, and when we run out of room in our closets, basements and attics, what do we do? We rent places along the highway which are aptly named "Self-Storage!" We would put our possessions --- extensions of our selves, into anonymous cubicles rather than give them away. Does this not remind you of the Gospel a few weeks ago about the man who built a barn to store all his belongings, only to die upon the completion of the construction project, leaving it all behind? This reminds me of what a preacher said once in a revival sermon: "You think you're rich? Die tonight!"

The almost crass-sounding advice from Jesus, "Make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes" grates on our ear. It seems to make Jesus sound like an opportunist, or worse. But it is good, practical advice. Jesus is telling us to use our wealth for good works, to invest in people, even dishonest, low-life, unscrupulous people, because ultimately we may be investing in those who, impressed by our spirit of generosity, will embrace the Faith --- people who might not otherwise have done so. The operative phrase in our Lord's advice is "when it is gone." Money, wealth, possessions are all temporal. As a modern-day philosopher once said, there are no luggage racks in a hearse, and no pockets in a shroud! We should, therefore, concentrate on things eternal. This is what today's collect means when it says: 'Grant us, Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things, but to love things heavenly, and even now, while we are placed among things that are passing away, to hold fast to those that shall endure." You know, if we were asked to make a list of your assets, all those things that are passing away, those things that constitute our net wealth, you could probably make a fairly accurate list of your assets --- real estate, stocks, bonds, jewelry, antiques --- but suppose we were asked to make a list of those things that will endure? We'd probably pause for a while before writing anything down.

My friends, since my return, I have attended a lot of meetings (I am sure when we get to heaven, there will be no meetings!) and most of them seem to be concerned, directly or indirectly, with the church's finances. And of course, we talked about the upcoming Every Member Canvass. Perhaps I told you the true story about the rector who was due to retire at the end of December of a given year, but he went to the bishop to ask if he could possibly step down at the end of August. The Bishop said "Certainly, Father, I think that can be arranged, but why do you want to leave in August?" "Because," responded the priest, "I can't face one more Every Member Canvass!"

When it comes time to fill our our pledge card, we have a choice. We can be like the children of light, and be stinting, stingy, parsimonious, and spend our money on those things that will pass away. Or we can be like the children of this age, and decide to lavishly, generously and freely invest in the spread of Christ's Kingdom, which will never fade away.