Parallel Parables that Ask How We Measure Up

I like to say that there are parallel parables in the Gospels for the twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth Sundays of Ordinary Time in Year C.  This is because of the similarities in the two parables.

We hear the Parable of the Dishonest Steward, from Luke 16:1-13, on the twenty-fourth Sunday.  The Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus, also from Luke 16 (19-31), follows on the twenty-fifth Sunday.

Our English word parable comes from Greek words meaning “to throw alongside” so that a comparison can be made. In other words, when Jesus speaks to us in parables, He is giving us a measure that we can stretch out against our lives and see how we measure up.

However, to do this we need to grasp what Jesus’ listeners would have understood when Jesus first preached these parables.  His parables all took place in the current cultural settings so His listeners easily understood the meaning of His parables.  But some of what He is saying is not so readily understood today.

Yet in these parallel parables there is much by which we can measure ourselves.

Who is the Dishonest Steward?

In Luke 16:1, Jesus sets the stage for the parable.  He says, “A rich man had a steward who was reported to him for squandering his property.” In Biblical times, the rich would often have many properties which they would rent out. Rather than looking after all their business affairs themselves, the rich would appoint a servant, called the οἰκονόμος (the economus), to oversee collecting rent.

Payment in goods, like the oil and wheat we hear mentioned in the parable, was the norm. However, like tax collectors the steward would often charge extra and keep that extra as a bonus for himself.

Notice that this is the first time in the parable that the steward fools his master’s tenants. For Jesus’ listeners, this would have all been common knowledge.

What does the Dishonest Steward do?

At some point, the dishonest steward gets caught.  The crime that lost the steward his job would not have been charging that extra amount.  Doing so was typical back in the day, and the master probably would not have minded. Presumably he was embezzling money or other goods from the master.

What bothered the master was when his own goods were touched.  And the steward starts to panic when he hears his skills are no longer needed. However, he comes up with a brilliant plan. Calling in his master’s debtors, he has them cancel out portions of what they owe.

But what is it that the steward is really cancelling? He is probably cancelling the “extra,” the amount he had overcharged the tenants in the first place!  In other words, this is the second time that the steward fools the tenants.

The steward knows that once he’s fired from his job, he’ll never be able to get that extra anyways.  He won’t even be allowed near the accounts or the goods. So, with those ill-gotten goods, riches that he should not have even had anyways, he turns people who should rightly be angry with him into his friends. It’s these deceived “friends” who will look after him.

Lest we think that the steward’s “kindness” be soon forgotten, it’s important to note that the quantities the steward pardons are enormous.  We know this because the Greek words are very specific. He pardoned 50 βάτους of olive oil, which would have been between 400 and 450 gallons of oil, and he pardoned 20 κόρους of wheat, meaning 2,400 dry gallons of it.

What the master does

After these events, something surprising happens. In verse 8, Jesus tells us: “And the master commended that dishonest steward for acting prudently.” Notice for what the master commends the steward.  It is not for being honest, because he isn’t, and it’s not for doing something morally upright, because it wasn’t.  Rather, the master commends him for being prudent.

Perhaps a better translation of prudent would be shrewd. Knowing that he would be running into problems soon, he knew how to read the writing on the wall.  He figured out how to make the best of a bad situation.

What does Jesus say to us? To be prudent, and …

In the second half of verse 8, and in verse 9, Jesus gives us the meaning He wants us to take away from the measure He has just thrown out.

“For the children of this world are more prudent in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light. I tell you, make friends for yourselves with dishonest wealth, so that when it fails, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.”

If “the children of this world” know how to take advantage of the goods of this world to have a secure future in this world, how much more should the children of light take advantage of absolutely everything in this world to have a secure future in heaven? In other words, the rich often became rich because they take advantage of every opportunity to make an investment.  Their prudence leads them to great wealth.

In the same way, we, the children of light, should take advantage of everything we can to build up for ourselves treasure in heaven.

To make friends

The second statement, “Make friends for yourselves with dishonest wealth,” contains two words or phrases that require some explanation.  This is because in English the meaning of what Jesus says is really not that obvious.  In Greek, however, it is straightforward.

“Make friends for yourselves with dishonest wealth,” in English, could mean “become friends with dishonest wealth.” But it could also mean “use dishonest wealth to make friends.” In Greek, it is the second meaning that Jesus uses.  He is saying we should use dishonest wealth as a tool or an instrument to make friends.

But the phrase within the phrase – “dishonest wealth” – also needs some translating.  In Greek it literally means “mammon of unrighteousness or iniquity.” So the implication is that there is something inherently wrong with mammon (dishonest wealth), and not that it is simply acquired dishonestly.

With these two clarifications in mind, what is Jesus telling us about our lives?

Saint Augustine says that when Jesus speaks of the mammon of unrighteousness, He means to say that these riches, be they money, gold, or anything of worth, are only valuable to the unrighteous. Even if a Catholic or believer in general has money, they don’t set their heart on it; their riches lie elsewhere, namely, in heaven.

If we find, however, that we are placing our hopes in money, then that is where our heart lies.  We are thus serving a poor master who will not be able to pay us back eternally.

Money is only good for our vocations and to help the poor and others in need.  By using money is this way, we will truly have treasure in heaven.

The Rich Man and Lazarus

The parable of the rich man and Lazarus was the center of the Gospel for the twenty-fifth Sunday in ordinary time. What is unique about this parable is that in all His other parables, Jesus never gives a character a proper name.  In other parables He refers to people as simply “a man,” “a woman,” “a Samaritan,” and the like.  But in this parable, the poor man has a name.

Lazarus is a name derived from the Hebrew Eleazar, meaning, God is my help.  And Lazarus is the only person who merits this special distinction. There’s something ironic in this, since Jesus gives this poor man special attention.  The rich man, and, indeed, everyone else, refused to pay him any mind at all.

Yet, had they looked, they would have seen one of God’s beloved children, and indeed, even Christ Himself. In our world, too, we easily recall the names of actors, billionaires, and other celebrities, but we easily overlook and forget the poor.

One of Saint Teresa of Calcutta’s favorite phrases was to say that she and her sisters served Christ in “His most distressing disguise” (“Where There is Love, There is God,” by Mother Teresa, pg. 58).  In her case, Jesus was in the poor, the lepers, and the abandoned – people who physically resembled Lazarus.  Today’s Gospel reminds us that we too must serve Christ in whatever “His most distressing disguise” might be for us.

Christ in Disguise

It’s entirely possible that for us this hidden Christ is in the person of the poor, the drug addicts, the single mothers, or even in criminals. Perhaps these are the people that we’d rather not have anything to do with.

Of course, we don’t approve of sin, and we know that everyone would be happier if they would leave sin behind. However, we need to make a distinction between the sin and the sinner.  We must love the sinner, even as we despise the sin. And that love for the sinner can take many different forms.

Some of us are called to the prison ministry, or to visit the sick.  Others are called to give money, and many other things.  What form God is calling us to requires prayer and listening to His voice.  But what is certain is that God wants us to love even these difficult people.

However, the “hidden Christ” should not just be limited to the poor. For instance, the “hidden Christ” might be in the person of our superiors, our bosses, or even parents who might be difficult or who lack the qualities we think they should have.

The best test I have ever seen or heard for how much we love God comes from the Servant of God Dorothy Day.  As Fr. Larry Richards notes in his book “Surrender! The Life-Changing Power of Doing God’s Will,” Day was fond of saying, “I really only love God as much as I love the person I love the least.” That is the true test for our love. If we can’t or won’t love the brothers and sisters that we can see, how can we claim to love the God we can’t see?

Measuring ourselves with Christ’s measure

These parallel parables give us plenty of food for thought.  And they immediately ask us to consider four questions  What wealth do we possess in our lives? What use do we make of it? Where is Christ hidden in our lives? How do we treat Him there?