Making a Name for Oneself ( Luke 16:19–31)

 The phrase “make a name for yourself” means to become famous or respected by a lot of people. 

Elon Musk, for example, has made a name for himself through the six companies he’s co-founded, including Tesla and SpaceX. Donald Trump, even before he was president, made a name for himself by inheriting a real estate business, licensing his name, and becoming a media personality. 

Whether you like them or not, people like Elon Musk and Donald Trump have made a name for themselves; and we all know and remember their names.

In the first verse of today’s Bible story, there is a man who I would compare to Elon Musk or Donald Trump. He is described as a rich man who dressed in purple. 

Why does the color of his clothing matter? Because purple dye was rare and hard to come by. The only real source of purple dye in those times came from a certain species of sea snail. The snail wasn’t actually purple, but by boiling the mucus for several days and exposing it to sunlight for a precise amount of time, it could be transformed into purple. 

It took as many as 250,000 sea snails to yield just one ounce of usable dye, but the result was a vibrant and long-lasting shade of purple.

Because it took so much effort, clothes made from the dye were exorbitantly expensive—a pound of purple wool cost more than most people earned in a year. In some societies, only royalty wore purple.

I don’t know if this particular rich man was royalty or was connected to royalty, but he was rich, and he dressed in purple. He dressed in purple and fine linen. And he feasted sumptuously every day. The food he ate was extremely costly, rich, luxurious, and magnificent.

He was clearly a man who had made a name for himself. Everyone knew and remembered his name.

In the second and third verses of today’s Bible story, we are introduced to a poor man named Lazarus. Lazarus did not wear purple, or fine linen. Lazarus’ body was covered with sores, many of which could be seen through the rags he wore; the health care that the rich man could afford was well beyond Lazarus’ reach, and his sores were left untreated.

Lazarus was so poor that he experienced hunger every day - hunger so bad that it hurt. 

Lazarus would see the food deliveries arrive at the rich man’s house, and Lazarus would wait in the hopes that perhaps just a small piece would fall from the cart, and having landed in the road or in the dirt, he would be allowed to retrieve it and enjoy at least a small bite to help assuage his harsh and relentless hunger. 

If there were magazines in those days, the magazines on the magazine rack would have lots of pictures of the rich man. He was what people wanted to look at. He had made a name for himself, and it pleased the eye to look at him, his purple clothes, and his unblemished skin. 

Lazarus, on the other hand, with his rags and his sores and his hollow, unwashed cheeks - he was not pleasant to look at. His picture is one we would ignore. His picture would not sell magazines.

Or if there were social media in those days, the rich man would get lots of attention, lots of likes and lots of follows… but who would follow a poor man lying on the ground, covered in sores? People want to follow the man who is pleasing to look at, the man who has made a name for himself.

In the fourth verse of today’s Bible story, we learn that both Lazarus and the rich man died. In death, Lazarus went to dwell with Abraham in what we would call heaven, and the rich man went to what we would call hell. 

This parable imagines that heaven and hell are two regions separated by a great chasm; and yet there is at least limited communication between them. So the rich man begs Abraham for mercy, for assistance, for himself - and when that fails, for his family members who are still alive. 

But it’s too late. His pleas don’t work…. 

By now, you may have noticed something strange about this story, about a rich man who made a name for himself while alive, the rich man who everyone knew, whose pictures appeared on magazine covers and social media; and the poor man - Lazarus - who was ignored and neglected. There’s something ironic here, in how these two are presented and introduced. 

Have you figured it out?

The rich man, the man who made a name for himself - what is his name? 

We don’t know! The story doesn’t say!

But the poor man, who was ignored, neglected, and made invisible while he was alive - the story tells us his name.

Ponder the strangeness, the weirdness, of that…

Imagine a news account about “some rich guy” who developed an electric car company and sent rockets into space and then tried to buy Twitter, yet never mentions that his name is Elon Musk. Just “a rich guy.” 

Imagine a story about a man who inherited a massive real estate empire and has buildings and country clubs named after him, and that he was our president, but never mentions that his name is Donald Trump. Just, “some rich guy.”

It’s hard to imagine, right?

History books aren’t going to say that “some rich guy” who owned lots of real estate and was a reality TV star became president for four years; they’re going to mention his name.

But in our Bible story today - this super-rich, super-famous guy… he’s never mentioned by name.

Some of you may know that - even though this rich man doesn’t have a name in the Bible, Christian tradition, starting in the middle ages, has given him a name. 

Anyone know what that name is?

According to tradition, his name is Dives. It’s Latin, and it means, simply, rich or wealthy. It’s the name he has been given - but that name didn’t come from the Bible. In the Bible, he has no name.

It reminds me of the three magi who brought their gifts to Jesus. They are apparently wealthy, and they also are not named in scripture. However, tradition has given them names: Caspar, Melchior and Balthazar. But those names are not in scripture, just like the name of the rich man in today’s story is not in scripture. In the Bible, they have no names.

But the poor man, the neglected man, the ignored man, whose name no one would remember because they probably didn’t even know it - his name, Lazarus, is in the Bible; and that’s significant.

Because, in God’s kingdom, the poor are made rich; the humble are exalted; and the nameless are given names. 

In Israel’s darkest hour, when the nation had been taken away from the people and they were being held captive, God’s message to them through the prophet Isaiah was this: 

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name! You are mine. When you pass through the flood waters, I will be with you. When you pass through the swollen rivers, I will be with you; they shall not overwhelm you. When you walk through fire, you shall not be burned… Because you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you.”

God remembers the forgotten. God knows their names.

That’s why Lazarus has a name in this story, but the rich man does not. Because God sees those who suffer. God hears their cries. And God knows their names.

God is intimately connected to their lives. 

Which means that today, it’s not the billionaires or the world leaders whose names are mentioned first in God’s kingdom; it’s not the names in the news that everyone talks about…

It’s the hurricane victims in Puerto Rico - we might not know their names, but God knows each of them by name. 

It’s the flood victims in Pakistan - God knows each of them by name. 

It’s the asylum-seekers who were lied to and sent a thousand miles away with false promises of aid and assistance - God knows each of them by name. 

It’s trans kids and adults who can’t get schools and parents and others to use the name they know is truly theirs, and instead they get called by names  that are not truly theirs - If you are one of them, know that God calls you by your name, your true name, the one you know is yours.

It’s the 140 million poor people in the United States, who continue to be left out when it comes to the great wealth of this country - God sees you, and God knows you by name.

It’s the countless workers struggling to pay rent that is too high with wages that are too low. It’s the ones who have been fired for organizing, for fighting for better working conditions for themselves and others - God sees you, and God knows you by name.

It’s the many who are filled with anxiety or depression, which can make it hard just to function; society wants to see and remember and know the names of those who are happy and productive, but God sees you and knows you by name.

In God’s kingdom, your name - if you are poor, or cast out, or struggling, or forgotten, or denied your dignity - your name is at the top of God’s list. It is known by God. God will not forget you. God makes your light shine forth. God extends blessings to you.

Because yours is the kingdom of God.

Sermon: "Closing the Gap" (Luke 16:19-31)

What do we know about the two men in today’s Bible story?

We know that one was rich, and one was poor. We know that the poor man’s name was Lazarus, but we don’t know the name of the rich man.

And we know that the rich man took pride in his wealth by dressing in purple and fine linen, and that Lazarus sat at the gate of the rich man, hoping to satisfy his hunger from the crumbs that fell from the rich man’s table, but he got nothing.

The story doesn’t say much else about them.

It doesn’t say why the Lazarus was poor.

It doesn’t say why the rich man was rich.

Was it Lazarus’s fault that he was poor? Was he lazy? Or was he poor for some other reason? Maybe he was crippled. Maybe he was old with no one to care for him. Maybe he was a victim of an unjust economic system… We just don’t know.

And how did the rich man become rich? Was it by honest hard work? Did he inherit his wealth? Did he achieve wealth by cheating and stealing from others?

We just don’t know.

This parable doesn’t give us much information about these two men. If we want to know more, we need to look outside this story.

Fortunately, this story does not exist in a vacuum.

Jesus told this story to his disciples, and Jesus and his disciples were well-acquainted with a whole tradition of religious teaching that speaks directly to this particular story.

To start with, there’s the Torah, the stories and teachings of Moses, which taught that the rich should help the poor. The Torah commanded that debts be forgiven, so that the gap between the rich and the poor could be kept from growing too large. The Torah commanded that, at harvest time, some of the crop be left behind so the poor could go out and gather it. The Torah commanded that those who had wealth should help the most vulnerable in society: widows and orphans, those who had no one else to care for them.

According to the Torah, the rich were expected to help the poor.

And then there are the prophets; prophets like Isaiah, who said: “share your bread with the hungry; bring the homeless poor into your house” [58.7].  Prophets like Micah, who railed against those who, in his words, declare war against the poor but give them nothing to eat [3.5].

Prophets like Amos, who pronounced doom on those who would neglect to help the poor, those who would sell even the sweepings, the last bit of the harvest that was to be left for the poor [8.6]. Amos also said: “Alas for those who lie on beds of ivory, and lounge on their couches, and eat lambs from the flock, and calves from the stall, and drink wine, but are not grieved over the ruin that has come to the people, the poor, the masses who have been left with so little [6.4-6].

If you want to know what the prophets were like, just watch the video of Senator Elizabeth Warren grilling Wells Fargo CEO John Stumpf, calling him to task for cheating the poor while he raked in millions.

Jesus, of course, knew what the Torah – and the prophets – commanded. The disciples, to whom Jesus told this parable, also knew. They knew what was expected: that the rich were to help the poor.

The story of Lazarus and the rich man is found in Luke’s gospel. Were Luke’s readers as familiar with these commands as Jesus and his disciples were?

In case they weren’t, Luke has already described in his gospel how the poor have a special place in God’s heart. In chapter one, Luke presents Mary’s song, the Magnificat, in which she says, “God has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.” In chapter four, Jesus begins his ministry with the words, “I have been anointed to bring good news to the poor.” In chapter six, Luke includes the phrase, “Blessed are the poor.” Matthew’s gospel says “blessed are the poor in spirit,” but Luke just says “blessed are the poor.”

All of this is – or at least should be – in the back of our minds as we read today the story of the rich man and the poor man. This story does not exist in a vacuum. The entire biblical witness, from the law of Moses, to the writings of the prophets, to Luke’s own words, already casts judgment upon him.

Because after all, there was a poor man – Lazarus –  sitting at his gate, hungry, who he ignored. He didn’t even notice poor Lazarus. Or at least, he tried very hard not to notice him.

So when both men die, and Lazarus goes to heaven, and the rich man goes to that other place, we aren’t surprised.

The rich man, suffering fiery torment, sees Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. He calls out, “Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in agony in these flames.”

A couple of interesting things here. First, the rich man knows Lazarus’s name. At some point, he had learned Lazarus’s name; which means he knew Lazarus was there, sitting at his gate, and still he did nothing.

Also: the rich man still thinks he is above Lazarus. He thinks poor Lazarus should be serving him by comforting him in his time of suffering – even though the rich man did nothing to help Lazarus in his time of suffering. And then he thinks Lazarus could be sent back to warn his family, as if, even after death, Lazarus was his slave.

He’s still so arrogant, so full of himself.

The prophet Micah says “walk humbly with God” [6.8], but the rich man is not willing to humble himself. Even in death, in torment, the rich man is too proud to humble himself. “I can’t deliver the message, but send Lazarus.”

Abraham replies: “Look: they have the writings of the Torah, they have the prophets; maybe they should stop ignoring what they’ve already been taught! The message can’t be made any clearer. Not even if someone who has died comes to them.”

Economically speaking, we are all somewhere in between the rich man, and poor Lazarus. None of us is as ostentatiously rich as the rich man. None of us is as destitute as Lazarus, who didn’t even have any crumbs to eat.

But all of us know in our hearts what is required of us. We’ve heard the teachings of the Torah, the prophets, and Jesus. We know that we are called to share what we have. We know that we are called to walk humbly.

And how hard is it to humble ourselves?

When I first moved to Long Beach, and started using my bike as transportation, I was embarrassed. It was humbling, in a way. And sometimes I wouldn’t ride my bike, simply because I was too proud. On those occasions I would drive my ten year-old car with missing hubcaps instead.

Like that makes a lot of sense, right?

Now, in case you don’t know, I need to humble myself again. And it’s not easy. My family is out of money, so I can either find a church to pastor that can pay more, or find a second job here in Long Beach so that I can remain in this place that I love so much. But what other job can I find? I have a master’s degree in theology! But if I want to stay here with you, in the church I love, in the community I love, I have to humble myself.

Is this what the apostle Paul felt like when he made and mended tents in order to support his ministry? Paul’s background was a Pharisee, a very reputable, highly respected position. Was it normal for an important person like that to be stitching tents together? I don’t know.

Last month, we watched heroes compete in the Olympics. We honored them with medals and ceremonies and placed them on pedestals.

So I wonder how Maria Koroleva, an Olympic synchronized swimmer, feels as she earns $9/hour working at Dick’s Sporting Goods. Or boxer Nico Hernandez – who earned a bronze medal in Rio – who works with his dad as a lube technician at a trucking company. Not all Olympians get million dollar sponsorships. Most have to humble themselves and work hard to support their dreams.

Are we willing to humble ourselves to support our dream?

Look. Bixby Knolls Christian Church is a small congregation … with a big heart. I don’t know of many other churches who understand the gospel as well as you all do, or who are as willing to wrestle with difficult theological questions as well as you all are.

But our finances cannot support our current way of doing ministry.

This is no secret to those of you who have been attending our board meetings.

Now, maybe we as a congregation can just die… and then try to send a message from beyond the dead to other congregations in the hopes that they will do what they need to do to survive.

Or, maybe we can humble ourselves, and recognize that several things need to happen if our ministry is going to continue.

One is that we need to humble ourselves as a church, and accept the fact that some big changes are necessary. Change is going to happen, but remember the dishonest manager from last week’s sermon: he made change happen, rather than letting change happen to him.

In fact, once we decide to be proactive, and consider how we might change, we realize that a whole host of wonderful options are open to us, options that will allow our ministry to grow and thrive for years to come. If we humble ourselves, we will be exalted. That’s how it works for people of faith.

The second thing that needs to happen is that we need to humble ourselves as individuals, and contemplate what sacrifices we need to make in our own lives, so that we can support our dream, our passion, and our calling here at Bixby Knolls Christian Church, at this significant moment.

Here at Bixby Knolls Christian Church, we ARE feeding the hungry, we ARE helping the poor, we ARE reaching out to those in need of wholeness. In fact, the hungry are LITERALLY at our gate.

They are also present in our community; and they arrive each day in our houses, on the pages of the newspaper and TV screens. And it is through the ministry of this church that we learn to see them, recognize them, learn their names, and work to ease their suffering.

If I understand scripture right, it is they who will be interceding and advocating for us on the other side. Interpret that as you wish, metaphorically or literally, it doesn’t matter. When the goats and the sheep are separated, it will be how we used our money and our lives to help the “least of these” that will matter most.

The chasm that exists between us and them in this life will also exist in the next life, only in reverse.

Through the ministry of this church, we are closing that chasm, closing that gap. At this moment in our history, we have the opportunity to look at how we can do that even more effectively in the future.

If we set aside our own pride, I have no doubt that we will keep closing that gap, in even greater ways. The importance of the message we proclaim and the work we do in the community cannot be overstated.

Change is coming, but with your commitment, we will find a way to grow in ministry. The poor who sit at our gate are depending on us.

Sermon: "A Good Investment" (Luke 16:1-13)

As far as I can tell, Frank Underwood is not a nice person. He’s the main character on the TV show

“House of Cards,” and although I’ve only seen a few episodes from the first season, I have figured out that much.

By the way, don’t let your kids watch that show. There are a lot of “not nice” things to see there.

Starting with Frank Underwood.

In the show, Underwood is the majority whip in Congress. And he plays politics. Boy, does he play politics. He plays politics mean.

Normally, I don’t like shows or movies that have a “not nice” main character, and I’m not sure how many more episodes of this one I’ll be watching. But there is something fascinating about Frank Underwood. Something that I would almost describe as “admirable.”

Maybe it’s because I had a professor once who said, “just because you don’t like someone, don’t just toss aside everything about them.” She (my professor) was talking about theologians. One theologian in particular, who I and my classmates didn’t like, because of his views on certain theological issues. “Don’t dismiss him entirely,” she said; “you may not like certain aspects of his theology, but there’s still something you can learn from him.”

That was the most important lesson that professor ever taught me.

I don’t like Underwood’s attitude toward others. He is, as I said, “not nice.” He doesn’t care about other people at all. He’s malicious. He only demonstrates friendship and affection and care and sympathy when doing so will benefit him and his ambitions.

And yet, I can’t help but admire the way Underwood works to shape events to his advantage. He never just lets events happen to him; he makes them happen the way he wants them to happen. He never just sits there, helpless, while events unravel around him. He takes control. He shapes his future. He actively creates his reality.

For Underwood, there is no defeat. Defeat is not acceptable. If he’s working hard on a bill and it appears the bill is going nowhere, that it’s going down to defeat, well… that’s when Underwood really gets fired up. That’s when he gets really ruthless. That’s when he really starts manipulating people, blackmailing them, luring them into traps that they can’t get out of, so that he can get his way.

Because of that, things usually do work out for Underwood.

And when they don’t… when some other member of Congress gets in his way, or even if the president himself gets in his way… Underwood makes them pay. There will always be a next time, and he wants them to remember what happened the last time they stood in his way.

Like I said, he’s not a nice person. But in spite of all this, I still see something in him worth admiring.

The dishonest manager in our Bible story – in my mind, he’s a lot like Frank Underwood. He might not be. But because I watched a few episodes of “House of Cards” the same week that I began reading and studying and pondering this story of the dishonest manager, I can’t help but think that the two had a lot in common.

To start with, even though he is described as “dishonest,” there is, apparently, something to admire in this manager. “And the master commended the dishonest manager…”

But why was the dishonest manager commended?  Well, there are different opinions on that.

Some have said it was because the manager, when he was about to be fired, instantly repented of the way he had contributed to the economic inequality of his time; that he had defected from the systemic injustice of the dominant system. Instead of making a profit for himself by helping the rich, he now was seeking to help the poor who were in debt.

That would certainly be an admirable change of heart on his part. But I don’t buy it.

Others who have studied this passage say, no, he’s not that nice of a person. He didn’t instantly go from bad and dishonest to a fine, upstanding person of high morals. Rather, he’s still doing what’s best for himself.  He’s giving favors to his master’s debtors who are not poor but are, themselves, people of some means, and he’s doing this so that they might remember the kindness shown to them, and might then show him some kindness in return, perhaps by offering the dishonest manager a job. He’s just looking out for himself.

Watching a few episodes of House of Cards has me thinking that this second option might be the correct interpretation. I know that watching House of Cards is probably not the best way to gain insight into scripture, so I could very well be wrong.

But verse 3 in our story seems to support the idea that the manager had not completely repented of his ways.  Just look: after he was summoned to his master – after he knows that he’s going to be fired – he’s still thinking only of himself. “What will I do?” he says. (He says this to himself, but it seems as if he’s saying it directly to the reader, the same way that Frank Underwood speaks directly into the camera.) “What will I do? I’m not strong enough to dig, I’m too ashamed to beg…”

He’s not concerned about his master’s debtors. He’s not concerned about the poor. And he certainly doesn’t care about reforming an unjust economic system.

No. He’s still concerned only about himself and his own welfare. That is what guides his actions. And even at the end of the story, he’s still referred to as a “dishonest manager.”

In other words, he’s still a “not nice” kind of guy.

So what is it about him that is admirable? What is it that leads the manager to commend him?

Here’s what I think: this dishonest manager has just had the rug pulled out from under him. I’m not saying that he didn’t deserve it; but now, he’s facing a dire predicament.

Yet, he doesn’t give up. He hasn’t lost everything, at least not yet. He still has some leverage. He still has some time.

And he works hard, and he uses that leverage to ensure that he won’t be left out on the street after this is over. He makes deals with those who can help him, and shows kindness to them.

Yes, it’s in his own self-interest! But he’s securing for himself a future. Instead of sitting back and letting whatever’s going to happen happen, he’s still at work shaping his future. The future is not going to control him; he’s going to figure out a way to create his own future.

It may not be the future he thought it was going to be, working for his master as he had in the past. It may not be the future he had been counting on. But it will still be a future in which he is controlling what happens. It will be a future that he helps shape, a future which he works actively to create.

And he’s using whatever resources he has to make that happen.

Even when fired, when the end of his success seems imminent, he hasn’t given up.

He will find a way.

Jesus says, “The master commended the dishonest manager because he acted shrewdly; for the children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light.”

In other words, those who belong to the world, those who strive to achieve worldly success, are more shrewd, more clever, more determined to get what they are striving for, than are those who seek and strive for God’s kingdom.

The children of this world do not give up in pursuing their goals. They are persistent. They will keep working, using everything they’ve got, in order to find success.

But what about those who seek and strive for God’s kingdom: are they as committed? Are they as willing to keep working? Are they willing to use everything they’ve got in order to be successful at carrying out their mission, their calling from God?

Jesus says, “make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth…”

“Dishonest wealth.” It means the money of this age. The money of this world. All the material wealth that you have, and all the resources at your disposal…

We all have wealth. We all have money. We all have resources at our disposal.

Maybe we’re like the manager in the story, before he was fired, living comfortably with an abundance of wealth.

Maybe we’re like the manager when he’s about to be fired, when we realize that the money we had or thought we had coming was about to dry up.

But whatever we have, Jesus says, we should use it on behalf of God’s kingdom.

If we invest now, using the resources we have, we can secure a brighter, hopeful future for us and for all people, by working for peace and wholeness in our world.

And when things don’t go our way, we can continue working hard, shaping our future, instead of letting whatever’s going to happen happen to us. Instead of letting our circumstances shape us, we can direct and guide and shape our future.

When we invest our money in this way, it is a good investment. It is the best investment. Because it is an investment in the kingdom of God. It is an investment in the beloved community. It is an investment in a life of shalom, a life of deep satisfaction, for us and for all people, now and in the age to come.

The dishonest manager invested in the future even when it seemed that there was no future. He invested in the future, even when it seemed there was no future to invest in. That is something to admire, even if he was a “not nice” guy.

So if this is how a dishonest manager – a person lacking in moral fiber – can create a future for himself, imagine how the world can change if people who are nice – people who are filled with love and compassion and kindness, those who Jesus refers to as the children of light – imagine what can happen if they – if we – work hard and manage our resources and invest our wealth in the kind of world we want to live in…if we used our resources to create a better future… if we refuse to give up and give in, and instead actively commit making good things happen…

If we sit back and resign ourselves to fate, to whatever’s going to happen, then whatever’s going to happen is what’s going to happen, and we’ll have no say in it.

But if we use everything at our disposal to shape the future, to help create the future that God is calling us to create… that is how we wisely and shrewdly invest in the future. That is how we go about the work of bringing God’s kingdom on earth, as it is in heaven.

A Nameless Rich Man (Luke 16: 19-31)

When I was a kid, and my family went on a road trip, it was always important to me to know where we were going, and even what route we were taking.  This did have some good results.

For example, when I was about nine years old, my aunt and uncle moved from Chicago to Santa Maria, California, which is just a few hours’ drive from my childhood home in Burbank.  Upon moving, they sent out invitations for a little gathering at their new home, which my parents stuck on the refrigerator door with a magnet.

When the day came, my sisters and I hopped into the back seat of our station wagon, and my parents drove us up highway 101 to Santa Maria.  After several hours of driving, we came to the Santa Maria city limits, and it was then that my parents realized they had left the invitation with the directions to the house on the refrigerator door.

And this was long before people had cell phones or GPS or any other such devices.

I remember my Dad saying, “Well, how hard can it be?  Santa Maria’s not that big of town, is it?”  Just as soon as he said that, we came to a sign that said, “Santa Maria – Next 6 exits.”

And my Dad got upset and said, “6 exits!  Are you kidding me?”

At that point, I spoke up from the backseat.  “You want to get off at Donovan, and turn left, then right, then left.”

My Dad was skeptical.  Donovan wasn’t the first exit, or the second, or the third.  But he kept driving.  When Donovan finally appeared, he got off … and went left, then right, and then left.  And there, halfway down the block, were my aunt and uncle standing on the front porch of their new house.

Well, I, of course, felt pretty good about myself and my abilities.  However, the flip side of this is that it was – and is – often hard for me to just “go with the flow.”  On school field trips, riding in the bus, I would worry about whether or not the bus driver really knew the shortest, quickest way to where we were going.  Sometimes, when I was a boy scout, we’d be traveling to a camp that I had no idea where it was.  I’d just get in the car and try my hardest to not bother the driver about where he was taking us.  I didn’t want him to think I doubted his ability to reach our destination – which, in fact, I did.  The truth was that it made me anxious because I didn’t know exactly where our destination was.

One time, I think it was when I graduated from elementary school, my grandparents decided to take me to a special place as a graduation present.  And they wanted it to be a surprise. 

I don’t like surprises.

Well, I got in the car and they started driving south from Burbank on Interstate 5.  We drove through East L.A. and kept going, and I began to get ideas about where they were taking me.  Needless to say, I knew how to get to places, and I knew that driving south on I-5 past L.A. eventually led to Disneyland.

I started to get my hopes up.  We kept going on I-5 … but then we merged right and got on the 710.

And I probably shouldn’t say it, not here anyway, but my first memory of going to Long Beach was such a disappointment to me.

But the Spruce Goose – our final destination – was pretty cool.  So it wasn’t all bad.  But I still got anxious whenever I didn’t know where I was going.

Well, after some time I realized that I could turn that anxiety into a thrill.  Adolescents are, after all, thrill seekers and risk takers, and for me one of the biggest thrills and risks was getting in the backseat of a car without knowing exactly where it was going to take me.

Two weeks ago I began a sermon series on parables.  And guess what?  When I started, I wasn’t quite sure how long the series would be, or where we’d end up when we get there.  It makes it all very exciting.  I’m sure you find this as thrilling as I do, and I know you feel the adrenaline rush every Sunday as I step into the pulpit to preach!

I began by talking about three types of parables, and how most of the parables Jesus told are challenge parables.  They are stories that challenge our way of thinking.  I talked about the stories of Ruth, Jonah, and Job, and how they challenged prejudices of the time … and even challenged those older scriptures that supported those prejudices.  In other words, Ruth, Jonah, and Job dared to suggest that scriptures from Deuteronomy, Ezra, Nehemiah, and Jeremiah were wrong, that there is another way of seeing things.  Then, and now, that is a challenging thing to hear.

I also mentioned how Ruth, Jonah and Job – in challenging commonly held prejudices – paved the way for Jesus and his parable of the Good Samaritan, which did the exact same thing.

Today, I’ll talk about the challenges presented in some of Jesus’s other parables.  Because as I said two weeks ago, if you hear a parable of Jesus, and it doesn’t make you go “unh?” … If you don’t find it difficult to accept because it challenges your way of thinking about things … then you probably haven’t understood it.

And one more thing:  a book called the Power of Parable by John Dominic Crossan has been greatly influential to me in preparing these sermons.  If these sermons have got you thinking, and you want more, I encourage you to attend Founders Day at Chapman University next March, where John Dominic Crossan will be the featured speaker.

In the 18^th chapter of Luke, Jesus tells the parable of a Pharisee and a tax collector who went in to pray.  And when we read this story, we often read it as an example of how we are to pray, and how we are not to pray. 

The Pharisee enters, makes a big show, and says, loudly, “thank you, God, that I am not like that sinner, that tax collector, over there.” 

The tax collector, meanwhile, humbly bows his head and whispers, “God, be merciful to me, for I am a sinner.”  And Jesus concludes the story by saying that this tax collector’s prayer was the better one.

Now, we hear this parable, and think, okay, this is how we should pray, without a lot of fanfare, without a lot of showing off.  It’s an example of how to pray.

And we miss the deeper challenge that this parable presents.

The question is: why was the “bad example” in this story a Pharisee?  Pharisees were good people, respected for their faith.  So often in scripture they are used as a bad example that it’s hard for us to imagine this, but the Pharisees were perhaps the holiest people of their time, and they encouraged other people to live lives of holiness.

Tax collectors, on the other hand, deserved no respect.  First of all, it was well-known that when they collected taxes, they always charged a little more than they needed to, and pocketed the difference.  That in itself was bad enough.

But the very fact that tax collectors willingly collected taxes on behalf of Rome meant that they were in collaboration with the powers of oppression. 

The Pharisees believed that if the people of Israel lived lives of holiness, God would intervene and end this oppression;  God would free them from Roman occupation and establish a new kingdom, if only the people were more faithful.

But the tax collectors didn’t seem to care about any new kingdom.  They cast their lot with the kingdom that already existed: the oppressive kingdom of Rome.  They sold out, believing that money, and a safe, comfortable existence was more important than living by one’s beliefs.

So why would Jesus have the Pharisee be the bad example of how to pray, and the tax collector be the good example?

That’s the challenge.

In the story we heard read this morning, a similar thing happens.

It’s a story about a nameless rich man, and a poor man named Lazarus.

The challenge in this parable is right there in that one introductory sentence.  If you missed it, then let me ask you this:  A few weeks ago, a young pop star made news because he was accused of speeding recklessly through his quiet gated community.  Did anyone hear who that was?  Who was it?

Justin Bieber.

In the weeks since, how many people in L.A. County have received traffic tickets?  According to one estimate I saw, 150,000.

Does anyone know the names of those 150,000 people?  No.  Not unless one of them was you. 

And why is that?  Because Justin Bieber is famous.  He’s rich.  He’s a superstar.  And everyone knows his name. 

But those 150,000 people are just… normal people.  They’re nameless.

So let’s start the story again.  There was a [nameless] rich man… How could a rich man be nameless?  Everyone knows the names of those who are rich and powerful.  Rich people aren’t nameless… except when Jesus tells a story.

 And at his gate lay a poor man, whose name was Lazarus.  In this story, it is the “nobody” who gets a name.  And Lazarus was covered with sores.  In other words, he couldn’t afford any health care.  And he was starving.

The person you passed on the freeway offramp, holding the sign, looking for a handout … who knows his name?  No one.  But in Jesus’s story, he has a name.

Both Lazarus and the nameless rich man died.  Lazarus went to heaven, and the nameless rich man went… to the other place. 

Why did Lazarus end up where he did, and why did the rich man end up where he did?  Neither of them is described as being particularly good or particularly bad.  The nameless rich man was punished just because he was rich; Lazarus was rewarded just because he was poor.

According to John Dominic Crossan, these are not stories which Jesus could have told in a minute or two, and then had people walk up to him when it was over and say, “Nice story, rabbi.”  No; probably, there were interruptions, disagreements, and debates breaking out in the middle of his telling, so that the telling of the story probably took an hour or two.

Rewarded just because he was poor?  But everyone knows it’s the rich who are rewarded…

A nameless rich man?  Everyone knows the names of the rich and powerful…  A nameless rich man is just as absurd as a good tax collector… or a good Samaritan.  It’s just too hard to imagine…

One more parable for today, from Matthew 20:

A landowner went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard.

A landowner is, by definition, rich and powerful.  Not many people owned land.  And in order to maintain his hold on his land, there is a good chance he was ruthless.  This particular landowner seemed intent on not hiring any more workers than was absolutely necessary. 

He went early in the morning to where the day-laborers were gathered and said, “I’ve got work for only so many people; get in the truck, I’ll take you to the vineyard, and pay you the daily wage.”

All those who didn’t get in the truck said, “What about us?”

And the landowner said, “Sorry, I only need this many.”

Well, later the landowner realized he did need some more workers.  So he drove back and hired a few more.  He did this again several more times throughout the day.  He figured it was better to hire too few workers, because there were always people waiting to be hired, and he could always go back for more.  It would be worse to hire too many in the morning, and then have to pay them even though they weren’t needed.

It’s this kind of shrewd, financial thinking that allowed him to hold on to his land.

The people listening to Jesus tell this story would have identified with the day laborers.  And every time the landowner was mentioned, they’d frown and get a bad taste in their mouths.  That landowner – like all landowners – is so cheap; why didn’t he just hire more workers in the first place?

And then… the last time the landowner came back to the crowd of people, he said:  “Why have you all just been standing around here doing nothing, being idle and lazy?”

Well, that did it.  Those listening to Jesus must have been just beside themselves.  Isn’t that just how landowners are?  They complain and criticize the workers for not working, when they themselves have left them behind.  Why have they been standing around all day doing nothing?    Because no one has hired them!

This story isn’t just about one landowner and his workers.  It’s about the whole economic system under which the people lived.  It was a challenge to the whole set-up of society. 

And it most certainly got people talking.

But wait.  There’s one more twist to this story.  When it came time to pay his workers, the landowner paid them all the same.  Whether they were hired early in the morning, before sunrise, or at 5:00 in the afternoon, each worker got the daily wage. 

And preachers have tried to make sense of that and explain it in ways that make sense to their congregations.  But really, what else can one say to that, except:  “Unh?”

"Brand Loyalty" (Luke 16: 1-13)

Man, I wish I had Kai Ryssdal here to explain things to me. This scripture is one that I think Kai Ryssdal is more prepared to preach on than I am. Maybe he could make some sense of it.
I know, some of you are wondering, “who the heck is Kai Ryssdal?” Kai Ryssdal is the host of a radio program called Marketplace, which is broadcast daily on NPR. The half-hour program analyzes the world of business and finance. Kai and the Marketplace team of reporters don’t just report the numbers; they analyze them, explain what they mean, and discuss current money trends.

The explanations are helpful for someone like me. I, obviously, did not major in business. I was pretty excited when I discovered the method used on Marketplace for choosing background music. It took me some time, but eventually I realized that when the market is up, the music they play is “I’m in the Money.” When the market is down, they play “Stormy Weather.” And when the market is mixed, you can hear “It Don’t Mean a Thing If It Ain’t Got that Swing.”

Anyway, as I say, I’m a person who needs some help when it comes to understanding business and finance. Which is why I wish I had Kai Ryssdal here to explain things to me. I mean, just listen to what happens in this story:

A rich man hears that his finance manager is squandering his money. This surprises the rich man; after all, this manager came highly recommended from his previous employer, the City of Bell. (Yeah, I know, that was a bad joke.) So the rich man calls the manager in and demands that he provide a complete audit of the books.

Oh, and he fires him, too.

Well, the manager goes out and contacts his master’s debtors. One debtor owes a hundred jugs of oil; the manager says, “Well, make it fifty.” Another debtor owes a hundred containers of wheat; the manager says, “Well, make it eighty.” And the master, when he hears what his manager has done, commends him.

To me, this makes no sense. From a business perspective, it just makes no sense. Oh, Kai, help me understand!

The rich man makes a loan. He gets 80 percent of it back. He makes another loan. He only gets 50 percent of it back.

It seems to me that the point of making a loan is to earn a little interest; interest that is charged, so that you receive back a little more than you loaned out. How on earth did the rich man become rich if he happily accepts back 80 or 50 percent of what he loans out? I can’t imagine Marketplace playing “I’m in the Money” in response to news like that.

Well, if I can’t have Kai Ryssdal, maybe I can contact someone at the Argyros School of Business and Economics over at Chapman University, my alma mater. They have some of the world’s best economists over there, including Vernon Smith, a Nobel Prize recipient. In fact, I’m pretty sure that Marketplace has, at times, looked to the economists at Chapman University for answers and explanations. Do you think that perhaps Vernon Smith, or any of the other economic scholars at Chapman, can help me understand the story of the rich man and his manager?

Questions like this were on my mind when I opened up my Bible at the start of my sermon preparation and read this passage. I wondered what Kai Ryssdal would say about it. I wondered how Vernon Smith would explain it. I wondered if they, with all their economic knowledge, could help me understand.

But then I started to realize: this isn’t a story for the host of Marketplace. This isn’t a story for the holder of the George L. Argyros Endowed Chair in Economics and Finance at Chapman University, even if he does have a Nobel Prize. That’s not who this story is for.

This, I realized, is a story for all of us.

It helps to remember that this story is a parable. It’s not meant to be taken literally. The rich man in this story, the master: that’s God. And God, we know, is passionate about freeing people from oppression, releasing people from whatever captivity they find themselves in.

Well, a lot of people are held captive by money. A lot of people are oppressed by the burden of debt. A lot of people believe that money is all they have that’s worth living for.

For a lot of people, joy and sorrow are dependent upon whether they hear “I’m in the Money” or “Stormy Weather” when the market numbers are read.

The rich man, the master – God – is happy when debts are forgiven… To what are you in debt? Well, there’s the obvious: credit cards, mortgages, etc. But there’s also a sort of psychological debt.

The government and the media – including the folks at Marketplace, and even society as a whole – constantly impress upon us the importance of consumer spending. They say that we have an obligation to be consumers, that we have an obligation to spend. And so, even before we spend our money, we feel that it belongs to someone else, that it is owed to someone else, that we have a duty to spend it. The money in your pocket – yeah, it’s yours now, but you really should go out and buy something with it.

To me, that almost seems like a form of debt. Being in debt is a form of slavery. Even if we have no actual financial debt, we still feel an obligation to the clothing manufacturers, appliance manufacturers, car manufacturers, etc.

How many of you feel a special loyalty to one particular brand, to a particular company? Maybe the product isn’t any better than its competitors, or maybe it is, but the loyalty we feel toward that brand is unreasonably strong, to the point where the brand feels like a part of the family, to the point where we find that particular brand comforting, just the name of it; to the point where we proudly wear that company’s logo on our t-shirts and even ink it onto our skin. We willingly mark ourselves as servants of that particular brand.

Well, guess what? You cannot serve two masters. You cannot give your loyalty to both God and Wall Street. You cannot serve God and wealth.

And what is wealth? What is money? I’ve asked that before, and I ask it again, because I believe that it’s so important. In fact, my understanding of money is what made me realize that this story isn’t really a story for Kai Ryssdal or Vernon Smith. My understanding of money is what helped me realize that this story is really about a whole lot more than money, and that it’s for all of us.

What is money? Is it security? Is it power? Is it social acceptance? Is it a symbol of achievement? Is it evil?

Here is how I define money: Money is something we choose to trade our life energy for. We have so many days, so many hours, on this earth. Someone my age has, on average, about 330,000 hours of life energy left before they die. About one-third of that will be spent sleeping. Much of the rest of it, much of the rest of that life energy, will be spent on earning an income. Life energy will be exchanged for money. Money is what we choose to trade our life energy for.

I discovered this definition of money in a book called “Your Money or Your Life,” which was written by Joe Dominguez and Vicki Rubin back when I was still learning my ABCs. Because of it, I now realize that every dollar I spend is equal to a portion of my life energy.

Most people, if asked what’s more important, their money or their life, would answer without hesitation: their life. But this definition shows that money is life; money is what we have exchanged our life energy for.

So when we spend money, we’re spending a portion of our life, our life energy. And if you are going to be spending a portion of your life with every dollar, don’t you want to be sure that you’re spending it on things you believe in, things that correspond with your values? You don’t want to waste your money, your life, on things that do not last, things that do not bring deep satisfaction. You want to spend your life on things that are good. You want your life to be used for things you believe in, things that are important to you.

I think the rich man in the story felt the same way. I think God feels the same way. Reducing debt frees people from captivity. Reducing debts maintains good relationships. Reducing debts restores wholeness and leads to greater equality for all God’s children. And that, in God’s eyes, is something worth spending on. That is a worthy sacrifice of one’s life energy.

With today’s sermon, what I’ve tried to do – as I’m sure you can tell – is introduce our stewardship campaign. And I’ve tried to do it as smoothly and painlessly as possible. I’m sure how well I’ve succeeded.

But everything I’ve said this morning, I believe 100 percent. I believe that our money is more than just money. I believe that our money represents our energy, our labor, our lives. I believe that each one of us truly wants and desires to use our money in ways that reflect what’s most important to us. I believe that we want integrity and wholeness; we want how we spend our money to be consistent with our hopes and dreams.

I believe in the ministry of Bixby Knolls Christian Church. I believe that the ministry we do here transforms lives, bringing wholeness to our members, our community, and even our world. And I believe that there is no better way to live out our hopes, our dreams, our faith, than to commit ourselves to the ministry we share.

Because, after all, when you live according to what you believe in, when how you live is consistent with the values you hold … it feels good. There is a satisfaction in that, a deep down satisfaction that is hard to find. There is joy in that as well. And there is peace.

Praise God for that! Praise God for the blessings that come to us, as we seek to be a blessing to others; as we learn to live wholly and completely for the God we are called to serve.