When You Fail (Part One)

Let's take a look at the first nine verses of Luke 16. It is a parable spoken to the disciples. It concerns a steward that could have been any one of the apostles, or for that matter, it could be any one of us.

When Jesus says such a thing, what is he really saying? He is saying, 'Look at what you are doing.' He is saying, 'Look to yourself. This is you.' When we read this parable, we see precise parallels. The comparisons could be no clearer. Jesus' summation and admonition should set off alarms.

At no point in his admonition does Jesus say, “If you fail.” He says, “When you fail.” Realistically, then, we must consider our own imminent failure. Let us look to the parable for parallels that might arm us against such nonfulfillment.

Here is a list of the comparisons:

The mammon of unrighteousness are those indebted to God.

The children of this world in their generation are compared to the steward.

It may be that a comparison is made between a beginning and an ending. The children of this world in their generation are set against the children of light. Are the children of light the angels of God? Are they the long-lived pre-flood patriarchs? Clearly, the children of light would never think to recover in such a manner as the failed steward. So, what exactly are the actions and reactions of this failed steward, and of these children of the world?

First, in his service to his master, the steward was charged with wasting his goods. The word 'his' is used here, and it is unclear from the text whether 'his' referred to the goods of the steward or the goods of the steward's master. My guess is that the goods involved belonged to the master. They were such things as the master had entrusted to the steward's care. The steward, for whatever his reasons were, had undercut his own employer. He had misappropriated; he had embezzled those goods to his own ends.

Second, when the steward was caught and forced to respond to his imminent loss of station, he did so by undercutting his employer one last time. While he was still empowered to do so, he handled the debts of his master's debtors in their favor, effectively saving them half of what they owed. In doing so, he made friends of the debtors, showing himself to be shrewd in business, and savvy enough to work for any of them.

Had the children of light failed their master, they would not have responded by undercutting him a second time. This survival mechanism, as a flaw in our nature, is so well developed that it is of a higher caliber than the integrity of the children of light. Despite suffering the initial loss, the ingenuity of the steward in undercutting his employer a second time, impressed the master in that he 'commended' the unjust steward.

In that we, the children of this world's present generation, are compared to the unjust steward, our being 'wiser' than the children of light is only a comparison between 'wise' and 'unjust'. That is comparing apples with oranges. Wise should be compared to just, not it's opposite. What is unjust, anyway? Here are a definition and synonyms.

Unjust: not based on or behaving according to what is morally right and fair. Unfair, prejudicial, biased, inequitable, discriminatory, partial, one-sided, wrongful, unfair, undeserved, unmerited, unwarranted, uncalled for, unreasonable, unjustifiable, undue, gratuitous.

Can any of that be called wise? Crafty, perhaps, but not wise. The children of this world are all of that. The children of light were morally right and fair. Their wisdom was the real deal. Our wisdom is a well-polished fake.

Let us make some of our own comparisons. How do we compare ourselves, certainly as children of this world and possibly as Christians considering their own imminent loss of grace? What was a steward's position? A steward held an intermediary position between the one who loaned and those in need of help. The steward was a manager and administrator who acted in the name of his master. Christians should think of their Christian stewardship in these terms.

When the mammon of unrighteousness (itself a comparison to one who is righteous) find themselves in need and turn to the righteous one who provides, it is the steward who brokers the deal. A Christian steward should bear in mind that such a loan is always at interest, which are the goods that a steward may either treat morally or partially. The goods are in your hands. What will you do with them?

The steward is the face of the master to the rest of the world. Befriend them now. Care about the burden of their interest. You are the children of this world – you inhabit the same place as the mammon of unrighteousness. Failure is not a matter of if; this world is full of failures. An honest eye will show you that you are in the same boat with the rest of them. Your hand is held out for a loan no less.

Joy In Heaven

Now, I come to Luke 15 – the whole chapter. It is 32 verses long and contains two questions and one parable. The parable is time-worn and well proven. It is the parable about the prodigal son. The two questions center on the man who lost a sheep and the woman who lost a coin.

What I wish to focus on may be seen in verses seven and ten. I include them here for ease of reference. “I say unto you, that likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just persons, which need no repentance.” Also, “Likewise, I say unto you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth.”

These two verses are the sum of the entire chapter. The two questions and the one parable were a response to the indignation the Pharisees and scribes felt when Jesus received and ate with sinners and publicans. This high profile chapter has been the base material for countless sermons. These are subjects taught to children in Bible school.

All of us remember what we've been told, but I am going to turn this around and ask the reader what Christ himself once asked in Luke 10:26: “How readest thou?” In other words, what is your take on it? Most people read through such verses so quickly, I doubt they actually see what they are reading. Do you see what you read? I know that is a strange question; most people will say, 'yes, of course, I see what I read'. Don't be offended.

There are interesting pictures which make little sense until one looks at them in a different way. When one begins to look at the empty spaces in the pictures, something new, and as yet unconsidered, presents itself. Let us examine the empty spaces in the verses I have included for ease of reference.

We usually see the thing we are told to see. In the case of verse seven, we see the lost sheep being found, or the lost coin being found. What we see is the joy in heaven over one sinner who repents. But, what about the empty spaces? Allow me to repeat verse seven here.

“I say unto you, that likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just persons, which need no repentance.”

Look at the latter part of the sentence beginning with the word 'more'. As we can now see, there is joy in heaven over one sinner who repents, but that is just the 'more' part. In other words, there is more joy. An important new thought presents itself here. While it may not be more joy, necessarily, there is nevertheless still joy over the other 99 just persons.

So what is a just person, then? It is obviously the opposite of the sinner. It is a person who gets the whole thing right. It is a person who does not wander away from the flock, and therefore, have to be saved from peril and returned to the flock. The church would have us believe we're all lost sheep, yet, according to the words of the son of God, there are, statistically, 99 people who get it right for every one who gets it wrong.

This is what I mean when I use the words right and wrong in this context – to get it right is to understand one's place, to know where one belongs, to accept and remain in the relationship we have with our shepherd. To get it wrong, more importantly, to come to that state where repentance is called for, necessitates the need for help to find one's way back into the relationship.

Every member of the flock is a member who is prized and cherished. No penny in a dollar can make the dollar on it's own. That woman who lost her coin was unwilling to suffer the loss. The coin was hers. No doubt, she came by all of them the hard way. Her treasure was just not her treasure with part of it gone. In both scenarios, the return of the lost sheep and the finding of the lost coin, there was cause for joy and celebration.

Here, I repeat verse ten: “Likewise, I say unto you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth.”

Here again, I wish to point out the empty spaces. Yes, there is joy in heaven – but how does Jesus put it? He could have said that the shepherd had joy, or that God or the Father had joy, but instead, Jesus employed an interesting application. The joy in heaven is not necessarily the joy of God, rather, it appears to be the joy of the angels of God.

To conclude, since God is a spirit (Jesus told us that), the angels would then be the administrators of a frame of mind, or a concept, or a creed, set of principles, faith, ideology. Angels may be seen, therefore, as the technicians who service a fundamental truth. Placing our focus on the angels, in this particular regard, may help us to make sense of such things as 'God' saying “Let us make man in our image.” Just saying . . .

Salt

So, here I am again. It is another Sunday morning with yours truly writing another Sunday blog. I have no idea if anyone even reads my blogs. Yet, I continue. A natural question to add in this place would be: “Why?” Why do I persevere? Of course, the answer must be: “That is just how important it is to me.”

It may be that some reader, say in far flung France, may some day benefit from something I have written, but that must come after I have benefited from writing it. To write what I do, I must understand something – I must study. A seeker of buried treasures never knows where he might unearth some wonderful gem or nugget. He or she must, therefore, always step forward with spade in hand.

There is something about each of us that makes us who we are, that validates our place in the grand scheme of things. That something, call it our salt, is what makes us worthy. It makes us worthwhile. God forbid that we should lose who we are. Who we are defines what we do. What we do can be a positive influence on others, but only after it is a positive influence on us.

In Luke 14:34, Jesus took a common knowledge and made it remarkable. “Salt is good,” he said. O.K. – we sort of knew that anyway. So, what was the point? The point is: there is something about us that turns the bland and undesirable into something worth having and keeping, into something that may actually be relished and savored.

Case in point: I like sugar. Me and sweets resonate on the same frequency. Baklava is sweet – but I don't like baklava. Not enough salt. Either hand me a salt shaker with it, or keep your baklava to yourself. I also put salt in my oatmeal. I once watched my Granddad eat oatmeal without sugar, cream, butter, and salt – and it totally freaked me out. I like salt everywhere, with the exception of in an open wound.

Here is what Jesus was saying. If your good points, and your only selling points, are your justification for existence – then do everything in your power not to lose yourself. There is no remedy for such a loss. No one can step in and make up the loss for you.

Knowing just what it is about ourselves that justifies our existence is not something that comes automatically. One may look, but still, it will not come easy. One must commit to vigilant seeking even to approach the truth about oneself. Here, I do not mean just any old fact about oneself – rather, the highest level of truth.

What is the highest level of truth about you? You may still be looking; you may still be clueless, but, I will tell you a few things it is not. Your truth is not your body. It is not your house, or car, or job. It is not the money you have in the bank. Your value does not lie in any of these. Your salt is a spiritual matter. More importantly, it is a spirit-to-spirit matter. In other words, your 'good' is not good unless it is good for all others. Salt cannot be good if it remains unused. If it sits alone in it's own little pile, the oatmeal will always be bland. 'Share yourself' is a useful clue for each and every seeker.

Is there something good about who you are? Share it. When you share it with others, do they also think it is good? That is an important test. Too much salt in the oatmeal ruins it just as surely as not enough. Forcing upon others what you alone think is good can be so so bad. Use the test to hone your value. Grow personally, and evolve spiritually, test again and again – but always share the salt. Of course, having value always presupposes something or someone other than the item of value. In other words, just who are you of value to?

Many people get excited when they find the truth of who they are. A fire burns within them. They are zealous. But, without testing it's value with others, they force it on them to their hurt. It becomes a weapon that crushes body and soul. There is no one right way, no one ultimate truth except Jesus whose very name is truth. There is no value in isolation, only to the whole. Yeast that is set apart will not make the bread rise.

Folks in a religious fervor, those who reject the value in others, those who bash the others for their differences, fail to see where true value comes from. Salt is the best and highest and most inclusive spirit. Salt is truth; truth is Jesus, who is one with God. God is love. If you don't have Jesus, get him. Seek your value in truth. If you had Jesus and lost him, I'm sorry, but Raul can't salt your baklava.

Addressing the Multitudes

The Holy Land. It was not as barren as the movies make it out to be. Instead of sandy crags and rocky outcrops, Jesus traversed a land filled with grassy hillsides, fields, and trees. You might say it was a kind of terrain that echoed less well. As we know, Jesus often spoke outdoors in open fields and on grassy hillsides.

We also know that Jesus was rarely followed by a singular multitude. More often than not, his following was named, not in the singular, as in a multitude, but rather in the plural, as in multitudes.

I am in Luke 14, beginning at verse 25, where the multitudes are following Jesus, where Jesus turns to address them. How does one address such a large gathering?

First of all, Jesus would have had to have a good set of lungs. He would need to be able to speak over the milling noises associated with crowds. He could not depend on the acoustics of canyon walls.

Second of all, his speaking manner would have had to be slow and deliberate, with ample pauses to let his words sink in. In effect, Jesus would have turned and shouted at the crowd. It may only be me, but when I hear shouting, my first association is with anger. To my ear, some of the more robust languages, like German and Spanish, sound perpetually angry.

I can, of course, imagine an alternative means of delivery. With his inner circle strategically placed, the message could then have been passed front to back systematically. Here, I am thinking of how Jesus ordered his multitudes – as in groups of fifty, as in the miracle of the fish and loaves. Still, this incident in Luke has all the hallmarks of spontaneity.

Was Jesus annoyed with his crowd? It is like he suddenly wheeled on them and said, “You know, you can't just follow me around like puppies! Following me means going where I go, even to the cross. If you can't commit, you should leave now.”

We see it, too. They were wide-eyed amazed. Jesus was a marvel. He healed the sick, raised the dead, sent evil spirits packing, and stood up to the Pharisees with unheard of authority. And, the things he said – wow!

Many of us, today, are no more than those same wide-eyed followers. We have the same reasons for being followers – and we are just as uncommitted. Jesus doesn't want puppies for followers. If all we seek is a pat on the head, or a bone, or a treat, we are just underfoot.

We are all the multitudes. We've all heard the sermons; we've all heard the parables. But, there is a limit to how much, or how loud, one can shout. Does any of it get through to you? It is you who have a choice to make. It is you who must commit to the calling. No one is going to do it for you. Only you can make it so.