TWENTY-FIFTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME (2025)
Readings:
Amos 8:4-7
Psalms 113:1-2, 4-8
First Letter of Paul to Timothy 2:1-8
Luke 16:1-13
Amos was a simple sheepbreeder from Tekoa in Judah, who prophesied during the prosperous reign of King Jeroboam II some eight centuries before the birth of Christ. Amos delivered his irritating prophesies at the great cult center of Bethel. So irritating was his prophesy that he would eventually be expelled by the head priest of the royal sanctuary at Bethel, who grew tired of Amos’ tirades on the danger of excessive wealth. Amos spoke up for those in need, who he describes as being “trampled” by the wealthy. They were out “to destroy the poor of the land,” and they were dishonest: “we will diminish the Epha, and add to the shekel, and fix our scales for cheating!” No one likes their bad deeds exposed to the light of day. When Amos prophesied the overthrow of the sanctuary, the fall of the royal house, and the captivity of the people, it was more than Israelite officialdom could bear. Amos was not the most popular guy on the block.
Amos’ message stands as one of the most powerful Old Testament voices ever to challenge hypocrisy and injustice. He boldly indicts kings, presidents, priests, bishops, and leaders (6:1; 7:9, 16-17). Religion without justice is an affront to the God of Israel and, far from appeasing God, the normal practices of religion can only provoke divine wrath (5:21-27; 8:4-10). Amos is used as background for the unjust steward in today’s gospel (remember it’s only a parable, not an eyewitness account). Amos, and so many other teachings of the Old Testament, make it clear what is expected of those who love God. While the steward fails those expectations miserably, he is mysteriously held up as a model who gives us a glimpse of the initiative we should take when trying to do God’s will. It is the initiativethat is being recommended, not stealing. Indeed, a person living in Jesus’ day knew stealing was wrong, an offense against one of the Ten Commandments. Jesus is asking His disciples to overlook the behavior of the steward in the parable, in order that they might recognize the importance of the cleverness of “the children of this world;” they have something to teach “the children of light.”
The steward in the gospel is well aware of his wrongdoing, and he is also aware of his limitations: “I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg. ”In short order he is going to be out of a job, so with some urgency, while he is still managing his master’s business, he has a brilliant idea: “I know what I shall do so that, when I am removed from the stewardship, they may welcome me into their homes;” they might even hire him. The master’s debtors could not refuse the stewards generosity, or might the better word be bribery. The steward lowers all their debts, and remarkably the master, who must not have had a vindictive bone in his body, “commended that dishonest steward for acting prudently.” To His listeners Jesus states: “if you are not trustworthy with dishonest wealth, who will trust you with true wealth.” True wealth is the wealth of the kingdom.
Jesus ties the complicated parable together by stating: “If you are not trustworthy with what belongs to another, who will give you what is yours? No servant can serve two masters. He will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and mammon.” Nowhere will this be clearer than in the betrayal of Judas.
Jesus is trying to remind His disciples that if they managed their spiritual lives as well as they manage their investments there would be no need to worry about getting to heaven. The reality is, money is part of the fabric of our lives. Lack of it can lead to problems and poverty; too much of it can be a distraction that leads us to ignore the things of heaven.
I recently read the historical novel written by Anderson Cooper about the Astors, the Astors who were so very much a part of the founding of this country. Not too long after his arrival in this country from Germany, John Jacob Astor found a way to make a lot of money, by collecting the fur and pelts of native animals and selling them in Europe to a part of society that relished the ownership and wearing fur as a sign and symbol of great wealth. When he had enough money, Astor left the dirty work (and it was disgustingly dirty) to the hired class, while he turned his attention to buying up what would become some of the most expensive property in New York City. On those properties he built tenements which were then leased to a slum landlord, and when filled to capacity were divided, and subdivided, to put numbers of people in spaces only a little larger than today‘s parking spaces. Like the gutting of animals, when collecting the money got too dirty, it was up to others to make sure the money was collected and placed in the increasing coffers of the Astor estate, which over generations would grow into hundreds of millions of dollars based on today’s standards. The last full-blooded Astor died childless and in a prison hospital within the last generation, and the entire Astor dynasty, for hundreds of years, was filled with selfish betrayals and attempts to move money into personal pockets.
I cannot stand in judgment of the Astor dynasty, for some of their monies went to very worthy causes, but the bulk of their monies were earned on the backs of extremely poor immigrants who suffered extreme hardship, so that the Astors could enjoy their extravagant balls and personal privilege. Even at the time of Jesus, He knew of the inequity of people’s status, and the Pharisees and the priestly class, and strict adherents of the Law, looked down on those less privileged, hence the statement of Jesus at the end of the gospel: “No servant can serve two masters. He will either hate one or love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and mammon.”
When any of the things of this world become our “master,” it is then that Jesus advises we check our avarice at the door. The rich man’s steward may have been clever, but he too, was worried about all the wrong things. It was a true love of money which made the Astors stand head and shoulders above any one else in their respective generations – money had become their master. Our generation of wealthy oligarchs and entrepreneurs is just as much in need of Jesus’ message: “You cannot serve both God and mammon.” If you choose mammon, you will be sure to suffer the dysfunction that afflicted the Astors in the so-called gilded age.
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