Scripture readings for the 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time:
Amos 8:4-7
Psalm 113:1-2, 4-6, 7-8
1 Timothy 2:1-8
Luke 16:1-13 or Luke 16:10-13
In his “Second Homily on Lazarus,” St. John Chrysostom said that the “rich man is a kind of steward of the money which is owed for distribution to the poor.”
That is how the Christian is meant to view his or her wealth, great or small, he thought. That’s what you’re meant to do with it – to share it.
He thought it obvious that one’s wealth should be shared, that there is no alternative, save the judgement of God. “For our money is the Lord’s,” he taught, “however we may have gathered it.” To those who are rich, or who simply have more than they need: “This is why God allowed you to have more,” to give it to the poor, to help others, he said.
Again, for Chrysostom, he assumed this was obvious to anyone who knew anything about Jesus.
But he also understood the strong countervailing temptation to be tightfisted. Luxury was like lust, both share the same Latin root; both vices involve taking what one shouldn’t, exceeding the moral limits of the goods given by God.
Both also risk hell, Chrysostom thought, that if a Christian “spends more on himself than his need requires, he will pay the harshest penalty hereafter.” The good saint’s preaching on this point was brutal; not too many preachers preach like that anymore.
Not that I exactly share Chrysostom’s exacting fiscal morality, much less live up to it. I simply point to Chrysostom’s preaching to underline Jesus’s teaching in Luke’s Gospel. I do dare anyone, however, to read Luke alongside saints like Chrysostom or, say, the Cappadocians; it will indeed disturb whatever calm you may have had reading Luke. For these saints help us to see better the radicalness of Jesus’s invitation to liberate ourselves from the idolatry of wealth and possessions, embracing the freedom of faith and the pure communion of sharing.
Our parable is complicated, difficult at some points to follow. However, the lesson is simple and of a piece with what Jesus has been teaching for the past several chapters in Luke. Jesus has been teaching his disciples about what not to fear and whom to fear (Luke 12:4-7). He’s told them not to be anxious, to rely not on their own power or their own wealth but first on God (Luke 12:22-30).
And, of course, free from fear, liberated from that stinginess which comes with worrying about the things of this world, the follower of Jesus should discover that he or she has a little bit of surplus, maybe a little more discretionary income. What to do with it?
Here’s where Jesus, the good rabbi, simply underlines the wisdom of ancient Jewish charity, telling his disciples to sell their possessions and give alms, which is to store up “treasure in the heavens that does not fail” (Luke 12:33). Freed from the fear that makes a person selfishly hoard, now with faith, the believer shares what he or she has with the poor. And thus charity becomes the beginning of heaven.
Which is what this parable is about: The crisis of fear and faith we each experience, the agonizing choice to be made betwixt tightfistedness and generosity. What should I give to the poor? What should I save for myself? Should I splurge? Should I indulge in luxury? If I’ve not meaningfully given anything to charity, or a mere pittance in proportion to my wealth, is chasing luxury something a Christian should do? That’s what’s going on in this parable.
After all that Jesus has said about fear and faith and anxiousness and giving alms, what does that really look like in a Christian’s life?
The steward, you see, understands he will soon be called to account – just like we all will be one day. And so, what does the steward do? Here’s where the parable gets complicated; we don’t need to get into the details. The basic point is that the steward reduces the amount of money that would have normally entered his own coffers; in a sense he is giving money away or at least a claim to money that would have been his. Maybe he’s trying to ingratiate himself with his master’s clients.
Again, it is one of the more complicated parables the Lord tells, yet we are already familiar with the moral of it. “I tell you,” Jesus says, “make friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous mammon, so that when it fails they may receive you into the eternal habitations” (Luke 16:9). This is but another way to talk about storing up treasure in heaven; this is the ethical point of the story, that giving alms, for the Christian, is an unavoidable obligation.
But Jesus needles the point even more. We can’t pretend that our tightfistedness has anything to do with fiscal responsibility. Jesus simply wouldn’t accept our excuses, claiming austerity for some imagined greater good, especially if it reduces what we owe the poor. We can make all the excuses we want for our lack of charity, but Jesus just calls it what it is – idolatry. “You cannot serve God and mammon,” Jesus says (Luke 16:13).
It’s not simply that we’re stingy; it’s that we’re idolaters. Jesus here cuts us to the soul. Chillingly, he underlines a stark spiritual fact we do not like to think about, the possibility that our bank account and our budget, our income and expenses, do indeed measure our soul. Father Joshua J. Whitfield is pastor of St. Rita Catholic Community in Dallas and author of “The Crisis of Bad Preaching” (Ave Maria Press, $17.95) and other books.
