Who do you serve?
Sermon by Pr. Sharai Jacob on the Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost + Sunday, September 21. (Photo Credit: Vincent D. Johnson/Block Club Chicago)
In today’s Gospel reading, we encounter a parable — one that at first glance seems to make no sense at all. A business manager — also translated as a “steward” (oikonomos) — is accused of wasting his master’s money. He’s about to be fired, so what does he do? He calls in his master’s debtors and starts slashing their debts. One owes a hundred jugs of olive oil — “make it fifty.” Another owes a hundred containers of wheat — “make it eighty.” In doing this, he damages his boss financially. And yet… somehow… he wins praise. Not just from his master — but from Jesus.
What?
Why would Jesus praise a steward who seemingly lies, steals, and manipulates?
Let’s look a little deeper. Historically, interest on loans at the time could be as high as 50%. These loans were often made by wealthy elites or Roman colonizers to working-class or peasant farmers. And when the borrowers couldn’t pay — which was often the case — their land would be seized. Little by little, their ancestral land was stolen from them, legally, violently, systematically.
It’s possible — maybe even likely — that the manager was reducing these debts by removing the interest, the unjust portion, rather than cutting into the actual principal. In other words: maybe the master had been charging far more than what was fair — and the steward, knowing he was about to be fired, used his last moments of power to correct that injustice.
Maybe that’s why Jesus praises him.
We’re not told whether the steward got his job back. But we do see clearly where his loyalty lies. With the borrowers. With the people. His own people — the ones who might take him in once he’s out of work. He uses his final days in power to thwart his master’s thievery and show solidarity with those on the margins.
Jesus ends the parable with some cryptic words — but powerful ones:
“If, then, you have not been faithful with the dishonest wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches? And if you have not been faithful with what belongs to another, who will give you what is your own?”
Many theologians debate what this means. But I’ll offer you this interpretation:
The real dishonesty here was not the steward’s — it was the master’s. A master who used loopholes in the law to charge up to 50% interest on his loans. A master who set people up to fail so he could seize their land. That’s the dishonest wealth the steward is dealing with.
As I was studying this scripture, I found myself amazed at the imbalance of power in that time. The interest rates were ridiculous by today's standards. But then, I found myself checking the news, and I noticed some power imbalances and injustices that looked eerily similar. Not only do the majority of Americans have little access to healthcare and homeownership, but violent and outrageous shows of power are plaguing our communities.
More and more people are being “disappeared” from their homes and communities, now seemingly regardless of their citizenship status — targeted simply because they look non-white or happen to be trans.
It seemed to me that just like the master twisted the law to oppress and take advantage of the borrowers in our reading, the powerful few of our time are twisting and changing our laws to oppress us and remove our rights:
Women’s right to bodily autonomy
Our right to protest
Workers’ rights to organize
Even the freedom of speech is under attack
I saw the term fascism begin to appear again in headlines, and I found myself reading an article from April of 2024. Adam Joyce, the author, wrote about his family’s story of escaping the Holocaust.
His family used forged baptismal documents in order to survive and escape, while their neighbors — legitimately baptized Christians — attended churches that served as mouthpieces for the regime.
His family fled persecution and they arrived in the United States. Eventually, Adam was born here and was raised Christian. Now he's seeing the signs of facism all over again.
It can be difficult to name — difficult to hear, but we have to name the fact that America’s history is riddled with fascism too — from slavery to Jim Crow to the modern oppression of marginalized people. White supremacy supported by Christianity and unchecked capitalism creates a breeding ground for fascism and all of its evils.
So how can the Church — how can we — react differently this time?
How can we combat fascism as a community?
It can feel hopeless when we realize just how far back this goes. When the injustice feels that deep and that entrenched, what power do we really have?
But Adam offers us a different perspective. He says: understanding the history of fascism in America can actually give us hope. Because if it had a beginning, it can have an end. These are not timeless, unchangeable truths. This is not the way it has to be.
Our city has been working to combat facism throughout history too, the Black Panther Party was headquartered here, Organized Communities Against Deportations (OCAD) has also been prominent throughout Chicago’s history.
If we just have the courage to act, the courage to get involved — we can build a more equitable society.
Maybe you’ve asked yourself: What could little old me do? What could our one congregation accomplish? What power could our one city possibly have?
But we are not just one congregation. We are not just one city.
We are members of God’s Kindom.
And in today’s Gospel, Jesus offers us the wisdom we need to move forward:
“Make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone they may welcome you into eternal homes.”
This is not the time to waffle between two masters.
If you haven’t decided already — now is the time to decide:
Who do you serve?
It seems as though Jesus is calling us to be like the steward. To use our power to stand in solidarity and community with the marginalized rather than the powerful. Put simply: to serve Jesus is to stand with the oppressed.
It doesn’t have to start with some huge show of solidarity. It could start as simply as being willing to speak up. Being willing to start a conversation with your neighbors, friends, or even the person sitting next to you in your pew - “what resources, information, or connections could we share?” You might support your local library, and find ways to share information about the resources they provide. You might already be connected to organizations doing good work! Are you involved with your neighborhood’s local aid group? Holy Trinity's Social Ministry team offers opportunities to join in community and service with our neighbors.
As Adam Joyce reflected on his family’s legacy, I heard more clearly the reason Jesus offers praise to the steward in our Gospel reading. Joyce says:
“In this forgery was a life-giving truth — something truer than the ‘authentic’ baptismal certificates of their Christian neighbors... My family’s forgeries and lies were sacraments of life, a testament to the God who is on the side of life.”
We have a faith that equips us with community, with courage, and with the hope of Christ.
And we are called — like the steward — to use whatever power we have, however limited, to protect the vulnerable, to undermine the systems of injustice, and to be shrewd… in the service of love.
Amen.
