Friday of the Thirty-first Week in Ordinary Time
I have my own little parable about today's gospel reading (Luke 16:1-8), but before I get to that, I want to discuss what I think might be going on with this reading. Jesus tells a parable about a dishonest steward that begins with the landowner firing the steward; in the middle, we see the steward actually cutting in half the money people apparently owe the landowner; by the end, we see the landowner praising the dishonest steward for his tactics. That seems underhanded to me. What is going on?
The best reading I've seen about this parable is that the steward might have been overcharging the tenants in order to pad his own pockets - and perhaps it is that dishonesty that gets him in trouble in the first place, and his paring down their bills merely restores equity and fairness. Yet even so, this is still a confusing parable, for remember, the tenants are responsible to the landowner, not the steward - and the steward has been shown the door! If a tenant dared show any sort of allegiance to the steward by going along with any sort of pay scheme, what's to prevent the landowner from throwing that one out along with steward?
A different way of thinking about it is this: when the steward cuts each tenant's bill in half, he is exhibiting a kind of generosity - a generosity exhibited by the landowner himself when he didn't jail the steward immediately upon discovering the dishonest actions. Moreover, the steward's generosity reflects back on the landowner himself. The tenants get a break they weren't expecting - and the accolades get spread onto both the steward and the landowner.
Let me tell you a story that is maybe a little bit like a contemporary version of the dishonest steward in today's gospel reading. When I was in college, I went on a work trip to Juarez, Mexico. Along the way, we stopped at a national park for sightseeing for a couple hours. I had a great time wandering around the park, and was especially enchanted with an area of the park where there was a fountain with beautiful tiles. I mentioned my awe of this fountain to a park worker, who was there tidying up the fountain area, sweeping out leaves and so on. He agreed with me, we admired the fountain, and then he pressed on with his work. A bit later, as we were eating lunch in another area of the park, someone said: "You know, all the workers in this park who are wearing denim jumpsuits are working here as part of their sentences for participation in the savings and loan scandal." I hadn't known that - but I knew the worker I'd just been talking with had been wearing a denim jumpsuit. I didn't quite know what to make of that. But as we were leaving the park, the worker I had seen ran after our van, and handed me a small parcel with one of the beautiful tiles like those from the fountain. He had bought it from the gift shop because, he said, he appreciated seeing other people who got as much enjoyment from the fountain as he did.
The Tile Man, as I now think of him, is one of many everyday encounters I've had where I am reminded to imitate Paul, and Jesus himself. Today, let us reflect on the small encounters we've had that teach us about what it means to imitate Jesus - and let us go and do likewise.
- Jana M. Bennett