Clever and Creative

September 21, 2025

St. John’s Presbyterian Church, Medicine Hat

Rev. Heather Carlson

 

Luke 16:1-14

 

Luke’s Gospel has a way of keeping us on our toes. Just when we feel like we’ve wrapped our heads around the parable of the Prodigal Son—the beautiful story of a wayward son welcomed home by a gracious father—we’re suddenly handed another parable with similar characters but a completely different outcome.

 

Again, we meet a rich man. But this time, instead of a wayward son, we get a wayward employee—a manager, accused of squandering the money he was hired to oversee. Unlike the Prodigal Son, there’s no father running down the road to greet him. Instead, he gets fired on the spot. And unlike the son who returns with a humble heart, this manager responds with strategy. With cleverness. With what Jesus calls shrewdness.

 

By the end of the story, we don’t hear a bitter older brother grumbling about grace, but we do get a sharp warning from Jesus: “You cannot serve both God and money.” And the Pharisees, we’re told, who “dearly loved their money,” heard Jesus say this and scoffed at him.

 

This is not an easy parable. It’s tricky. Unlike the clear joy of the shepherd who finds his lost sheep, or the woman who finds her lost coin, this one leaves us with questions. Is the rich man a stand-in for God? Are we supposed to admire the dishonest manager? Is Jesus really commending someone for cheating their boss?

 

If you’re scratching your head, you’re in good company.

 

Some scholars suggest that maybe the manager was reducing the debts by the interest that had been illegally added, which would have put the rich man in an awkward spot. Others argue the manager was giving up his own commission, which might make him seem a little more noble.

 

But many agree that the point isn’t about justifying dishonesty. The key word Jesus uses is shrewd. And that’s the heart of this parable.

 

We usually don’t use the word shrewd as a compliment. It can sound a bit shady—cunning, crafty, calculating. But shrewdness isn’t always a bad thing. It also means being perceptive, resourceful, and quick to act. It’s about reading a situation accurately and making a timely, strategic move.

 

New Testament scholar Alan Culpepper points out that stories of clever tricksters and wise rogues were actually quite popular in Jewish storytelling. Even within the Bible we might think of Jacob—who tricked his brother Esau, fooled his father Isaac, and outwitted his uncle Laban to build up his own wealth. In many of these stories, the trickster doesn’t get off scot-free, but they do get remembered for acting decisively when the stakes were high.

 

And that’s what we see in this parable. The manager sees that his time is short. Disaster is near. He’s about to lose everything, and instead of panicking or begging, he makes a bold move. He leverages what little he has left to make friends—friends who might help him when he’s out on the street.

 

That’s what Jesus points to. Not the manager’s morality, but his ability to recognize the urgency of the moment and act.

 

I don’t think this parable is giving us a new moral code: “Go and be dishonest.” That doesn’t line up with anything else we hear and know of Jesus. 

 

And this parable also is not a message for individuals making personal life decisions. The “you” in this passage is plural. This is a word to the disciples together. To the church. To us.

 

And it’s not a parable for ordinary times. This is a parable for a crisis.

 

Jesus’ disciples were living in perilous times. The Roman occupation was squeezing the life out of the people. The Temple religious system was collapsing under its own weight. The Temple—the very heart of Jewish faith and culture—was heading toward destruction. And those in power, instead of adapting, were tightening the screws. They thought that making the rules stricter would make the people holier. But in reality, they were pushing away the very people Jesus came to welcome.

 

N.T. Wright puts it like this: Jesus is urging his followers to throw caution to the wind. Forget the extra layers of religiosity. Reassess what really matters. Don’t wait for the perfect moment to act—act now. Make friends. Build relationships. Use whatever you have—while you have it—to prepare for the future God is creating.

 

That’s a word the church today needs to hear.

 

Because we are also living in perilous times. The empires of the world are in disarray and increasing oppression. The Western church is in an age of decline. Attendance, Budgets, Buildings… 

 

And so we ask ourselves: What should traditional churches do when faced with their own mortality?

 

Do we hear Jesus’ parable for us? Be shrewd. Be wise. Be bold.

 

Don’t cling so tightly to the way things used to be that you miss what God is doing now. Reassess what matters. Use your resources—not to prop up the past, but to invest in God’s future.

 

Maybe that means letting go of some things. Maybe it means getting creative. Maybe it means spending less on things that only serve ourselves, and more on the things that build relationships with our neighbors. Maybe it means rediscovering what it means to serve—not just in the church, but as the church.

 

Signs of such a church already. Elders and leadership workshop in June. Another gathering November 1 and worship November 2 with winsome scholar and pastor to encourage church leaders about the work God is doing in the world today, and equip to meet the challenges of tomorrow with creativity and hope.

 

PCC: Grounded in John 20-21, the church is invited to move from fear to faith, from maintenance to mission, and from decline to divine possibility. 

 

Give good leadership to church wide conversation and action. Fresh vision and new skills for fruitful Christian witness in the midst of our complex culture.

 

The shrewd manager recognized the urgency of the moment and acted. Jesus is calling us to do the same.

 

Whatever questions we might still have about the manager’s methods, Luke makes sure there’s no confusion about the message: “You cannot serve both God and wealth.”

 

That’s the real tension in the text. Not dishonesty—but divided loyalty.

 

The Pharisees loved money. And when Jesus said this, they scoffed at him. Why? Because deep down, they believed they could do both. They thought they could serve God faithfully and protect their position, their power, their wealth.

 

But Jesus says no. One will always win out. One will shape your decisions. One will define your future.

 

And let’s be honest—this is a hard word for us, too. Because we live in a culture that equates wealth with blessing, success with virtue, and influence with righteousness. We are constantly told that if you just have enough—enough savings, enough security, enough status, enough influence or power —then you’ll be okay. We want our church to reflect all the worldly signs of success. 

 

But Jesus flips the script insisting we are called to the kingdom of God. Where wealth doesn’t ensure our future, God does. 

 

So where does all this leave us?

 

It leaves us, I think, with a challenge and an invitation.

 

The challenge is to stop clinging to comfort, control, and convention. The challenge is to acknowledge the urgency of the moment, and to act together—not fearfully, not frantically, but wisely. Shrewdly. Faithfully.

 

The invitation is to use what we have—our time, our resources, our relationships—to build the kind of future Jesus calls blessed: a future where the poor are lifted up, the outsiders are welcomed in, and God’s grace is known not just in words, but in deeds.

 

We are not called to be passive observers of a world in crisis. We are called to be shrewd for the kingdom—clever and creative in how we love, how we give, how we serve, and how we witness to the good news of Jesus Christ. May it be so.