January 19, 2003
“The Possible in Pursuit of the Perfect”
Riley E. Jensen

Many of Jesus parables like the “Good Samaritan” and the “Pharisee and Publican” commend a certain type of behavior.  They are what we call “example stories” held up as representing the kind of behavior we should strive for.  But the parable of the “Dishonest Steward” which we have just read belongs to a different category.  This does not hold up an example we should follow.  In fact there is nothing edifying or inspiring about this story.  The steward’s conduct was characterized in the beginning by incompetence and in the end by flagrant dishonesty – not the stuff of bedtime stories to our children.

This is so out of character with the general thrust of Jesus’ parables that some have questioned its authenticity.  But there is a general rule of scriptural interpretation which simply put is, “the more outrageous, the more authentic”. Obviously this does not always hold true but its purpose is to slow us down so that we do not dismiss out of hand those things that offend our sensibilities.

While we don’t know the original context, this story has been set in the midst of a number of stories about the use and abuse of wealth.  It is preceded by the Parable of the Prodigal Son who squandered his inheritance, and it is followed by a story contrasting the plight of the beggar, Lazarus, with that of a rich man.

To let you know that I have done my homework, the common wisdom of Biblical scholarship is that Jesus is making one point and one point only in this parable.  He is recommending the practice of prudence in our daily affairs.  While the dishonest steward was nothing more than a criminal, he was a clever criminal.  So Jesus is inviting his followers to emulate that kind of cleverness for better ends.  Jesus was fond of paradoxical teachings like “be wise as serpents and harmless as doves”, and this may be one of them.

However, it will come as no surprise for me to tell you that I’m not Jesus.  My mind is not quick enough; my insight is not precise enough; and certainly my eloquence is not compelling enough to be able to inspire you with what is so obviously criminal conduct.

But what I intend to do this morning is to do what we were taught in seminary never to do.  I intend to ignore the context while lifting up the text running the risk of making it a pretext.  The key verse in this story (the one intended for our meditation and reflection) is Verse 10, “Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much; and whoever is dishonest in a very little is dishonest also in much.”  The kernel of truth to be found here is the wisdom that little things count because eventually they add up to big things.

I.                  We Are in a Season of High Ambitions

The beginning of every New Year brings with it a season of high ambitions.  For many of us that means resolutions that the mistakes and errors of the past year will now be wiped clean, and the future will be filled with new behaviors that will be more fulfilling and productive and will not display the evidence of past human frailty.

T.S. Eliot had one of his characters in “The Cocktail Party” say, “You are nothing but a set of obsolete responses.”  That’s what living in the past will do for you.  Years ago while on a sabbatical in Scotland, I managed to wrangle my way into being designated an “official observer” to the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland.  While it had very little status attached to it, it did make me feel part of the proceedings, and got me a place in the convening parade down High Street as well as an invitation to the Queen’s Garden Party.

But there was one memory that I took away from that time that comes under the category of Eliot’s “obsolete responses”.  It happened that one of the most controversial debates on the floor that year had to do with sanctioning a federated church that would operate under both Presbyterian and Anglican authority.  In this ecumenical age I mistakenly thought that would be a no-brainer until I was exposed to the heated debate arguing against the action based upon religious wars two centuries old.

Now we pride ourselves on being much too future-oriented and progressive to be caught up in such obsolete responses -- sometimes to our own detriment!  I have a colleague who upon beginning a new ministry placed a card in the pulpit which read, “Expect a Miracle!”  That’s high ambition.  Expect a miracle!  Set your sights high!  Don’t settle for anything less than excellence!  And so goes the mantra that pushes us beyond ourselves to new levels of achievement.

Expect a miracle is the language of motivational speakers and the stuff of commencement speeches, and to a very large degree the prose of preaching.  As one whose business it is to listen for the right word like a safe cracker whose ear is tuned to hearing the tumblers drop, I confess to having contributed my fair share to the compost heap of high rhetoric.  Therefore, (as one who is something of an expert and even part of the problem) I think I know what the problem is.

The problem is that so much of our talk results in holding the possible hostage to the perfect.  It is fine to expect a miracle as long as we don’t miss the little miracles that are happening around us all the time.  It’s like Thomas Beckett’s famous play “Waiting for Godot”.  We are waiting for God.  We are looking for God.  We are searching for God.  But when God does come in a form other than we expected, we miss her and go on thinking our prayers have not been answered.

Some of us have done a horrible disservice to our children.  We have set them up for failure.  I find that sometimes I almost feel like apologizing when sending congratulatory notes to graduating high school seniors.  On this side of the middle class that is less celebrated than expected, as is college, and increasingly an additional professional degree or two.  Years ago I had a parishioner who was a young, brilliant physicist at the University of Washington.  He was a graduate of Princeton University from which he had also earned his Ph.D. 

However, as we got to know each other he shared with me his on-going battle with self-doubt and a sense of failure while believing that we are encouraging them to set their standards high.  As it turned out at a very early age he was informed that his I.Q. was off the charts, his future unlimited with the likelihood that his contributions to the world of knowledge would rival those of Einstein.  You see, the possible was being held hostage to the perfect and I had a broken spirit on my hands who believed that whatever he did was not quite good enough.

II.              Preaching the Possible to Those Trapped in Pursuit of the Perfect

Therefore, I want to argue this morning that Jesus came preaching the possible to those trapped in pursuit of the perfect.  “Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much.”

One of my great joys in life at this advanced age is to be able to play my favorite game with my best friend.  Of course, it hasn’t always been so; at one time we were more likely to exchange banter about how shooting most of a day on the golf course was the next best thing to watching the grass grow.  But one day Pam’s adventuresome spirit (combined with her curiosity about what grown people do for several hours with a bunch of sticks and a little white ball) led her to take a few lessons and expose herself to the intimidation of the first tee.

I can’t say that from that moment on she was hooked, but I married a person who doesn’t give up easily.  We started at a par three course where we played several rounds until she felt comfortable trying her game out on a big course.  It was then that this story of marital bliss gets a little more edgy.  You see a big course is not only longer in terms of yardage but the fairways are narrower, and there are water hazards, and sand traps, and sometimes it takes a long hit just to get from the tee to the fairway.

I would be less than honest if I didn’t say there weren’t some tense moments, but perhaps the hardest challenge Pam had to overcome was the emerging realization that in order to really enjoy the game of golf one has to learn to be content with a score something less and sometimes considerably less than par which is the number that someone in her great wisdom has decided can be reasonably attained on each hole.

You see, I married an achiever who has never been happy with second best so why should golf be any different.  Well (and this answer will not satisfy many of you) just because it is!  Golf like life is a game where the possible can be trapped in pursuit of the perfect. Because she watched golf on TV and had seen people (men and women) seem to achieve par with such ease, (with the occasional birdie and eagle thrown in) why should that not be the measure of proficiency.

Well, it just isn’t!  If that were the measure of true enjoyment on a golf course, most of the courses in Michigan would be plowed under.  Of course, the larger truth here is that as in golf so in life, the possible can be held hostage to the perfect.  Just because one cannot attain perfection does not mean that life should be drained of its satisfaction and enjoyment.  The truth is that not only do those small things count but they add up -- “Whoever is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much.”

One of the mentor’s of my youth told me, “You are what you will be!”  As a teenager whose hormones were out of control and whose fantasies of the future were scripted more by romantic fiction than realistic interpretation, it’s almost impossible to grasp that sort of wisdom and make any sense out of it.  But, of course, he was right.   It wasn’t very romantic and it didn’t fit into my dreams of greatness but the message was, “do your homework, learn the multiplication tables, and diagram those sentences.”  Add to that the message of the church -- be kind to everyone you meet, give the benefit of the doubt, be fair in your treatment of all, and above all remember that ‘black or yellow, red or white, all are precious in God’s sight’.

III. We Need to Redefine Our Definition of Greatness and Our Goal of Perfection

And so at the beginning of this New Year, I want to urge you to adopt as your verse for the year, Luke 16:10, “Whoever is faithful in a very little will also be faithful in much.”  You see, it all adds up; there is no other place to start than with what is right in front of you.  Whoever said, “Don’t sweat the small stuff” never had a chance to sweat the big stuff.

Of course, this little verse is consistent with the larger message of Jesus in which he asks us to redefine our definition of greatness and our goal of perfection.  In truth this part of Jesus message is not only counter-intuitive, it is counter-cultural.  After all, Jesus said, “My kingdom is not of this world; the last shall be first; whoever will save her life will lose it.”

This does not mean that we need to be satisfied with less than the best or that our pursuit of excellence is somehow diminished, but it does mean that the power of the Gospel has a different starting point and ultimately a different ending point.  The point is that when you start with the small stuff it can have a dramatic effect on the big stuff.

Lord Moulton (a British judge of the early 20th century) said, “The success of every culture hinges not on the points of morality (there will always be issues like abortion or school prayer over which people differ) but on smaller values like being considerate of others, and pulling your own weight.  These values,” he observed, “are neither legally enforceable nor purely private, but constitute the connective tissue of people interacting in a healthy society.”

At the beginning of the holiday season this year about a thousand people gathered at Congregation Ahavas Israel for a Community Interfaith Thanksgiving Service.  By church standards that’s something to brag about, but in the world of Van Andel extravaganzas it’s pretty small potatoes.  However, it was not the size of the crowd that was significant or insignificant; it was rather the power of a common message shared across the divide of different faith persuasions.

This Community Interfaith Thanksgiving Service is the product of a September 11 world.  We know that there are at least two things happening in a post September 11 world.  It has become a world of fear where our national security has become more important than fostering understanding.  All of those horror stories of World War II, of concentration camps, of incarcerating people for nothing more than the color of their skin or the slant of the eyes, don’t seem so far-fetched anymore.  Now in the name of homeland security we are prepared to deny rights that we once considered so precious.

But something else is happening in a post September 11 world that I see as more hopeful and which I pray will be more redemptive.  When Christians, Baha’i’s, Jews, Humanists, Muslims, Sikh’s, Buddhists, and Hindu’s can gather together in one place in Grand Rapids, Michigan, to give thanks for a common humanity under God; I submit that something good is happening.  Something that will ultimately undermine the forces of war and violence.  It’s the dream of Martin Luther King Jr. finding concrete expression.

How do we change the world?  Acts of advocacy and protest for social justice are certainly legitimate and important, but don’t be afraid to think small -- so small that you begin to build again upon those virtues your mother taught you which include exercising courtesy, consideration, compassion, and kindness.  For you see, character is formed not by great volcanic upheavals but by the accumulation of the smaller virtues, for not only do they make a difference, but (in your doing of them) so too can you.

Remember, “Whoever is faithful in a very little, is faithful also in much.”

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