Sermon preached by the Reverend Louise Kalemkerian

St. Paul’s on the Green, Norwalk, Connecticut

17^th Sunday after Pentecost - September 23, 2007

In the name of our all giving, all loving, all embracing extravagant God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. AMEN.

In case you are struggling to understand this parable, let me assure you that you are not alone. Scholars and pastors, saints and sages, people in the pews and people in monasteries have struggled with this parable for generations. Some have wondered why Jesus would tell it. Others have wondered why Luke would include it. This may be the toughest parable Jesus ever told.

St. Augustine, in the 5^th century, is purported to have said, “I can’t believe that this story came from the lips of our Lord.” Luke himself appears to have had trouble with this story, because Luke seems to have added a few clarifying verses at the end, which really don’t help clarify much at all.

Some parables give you role models to follow, like the Good Samaritan or the Prodigal Son. Not this one. There’s no one in today’s story about whom I would have said to my kids: “Grow up to be like this person.” As one person recently commented: “The story is important for what these people are not, what they don’t do, rather than for what they do and are.” It’s a parable meant to wake us up and make us think about how we make our way through life; what we do with what we’re given.

So here’s the story (my paraphrase): A lousy manager is about to be fired. He scrambles and, on his own initiative, reduces other people’s debt to get some cash in hand. He thinks he’ll make friends to take care of him in days ahead. I call it networking. In a no-win situation, he manages through his wits, his shrewdness, to discover a way to move forward. His actions are not particularly commendable, perhaps not even comprehensible. But his boss commends him anyway. Then Jesus enters in and suggests that if shady characters like him can figure out how to move forward, people of faith should be able to figure out how to move forward, too.

The parable challenges people of faith to put as much energy and ingenuity and shrewdness into their vocation as those who are out for a buck. That could well be a good parable to hear in Fairfield County in 2007. What would church look like in Fairfield County if all the energy and ingenuity and the shrewdness that is directed toward personal gain was directed toward the church? What would the church look like?

It’s all about moving forward. And moving forward into the unknown is what scripture is about: Abraham moving to a land promised by God, not knowing where he was going. It’s about the children of Israel in the Exodus, wandering through the desert toward the land of milk and honey, struggling to know where they were going; the disciples accompanying Jesus towards Jerusalem, not having a clue what they were headed toward. Each of these roads is marked by cost and promise.

There are several lessons to be learned from this Gospel. The first lesson is this: Keep your eyes open. Don’t assume you know all you need to know. Be ready to learn from surprising teachers. In this story, Jesus tells his disciples they would do well to see how secular, even unscrupulous people navigate life’s challenges. Those folks don’t say, “It can’t be done.” They don’t say: “We’ve never done it that way.”

You’ve heard the story about how many Episcopalians it takes to change a light bulb, haven’t you? The answer: A whole congregation – one to screw in the light bulb, one to hold the ladder, one to mix the drinks, and the rest of the congregation to talk about how much they liked the old one.

Too often the church has tried to move forward by retreat, cordoning itself off, setting itself apart, circling the wagons, doing the same old thing, playing small. A colleague of mine recently compared the Episcopal Church to an aquarium tank set on the seashore, in hopes that some fish would jump in if they wanted to, but not really caring if they don’t. Jesus, in this parable, invites listeners to be ready to learn from unexpected places, to think outside the box.

A second lesson from this strange parable: This guy found a way to move forward in what looked like a dead end situation. He believed there was a way. He knew the art of possibility. It’s a challenge to people of faith to say we can do that too, because while all this guy could rely on was his own conniving wit, people of faith are able to tap into greater resources. It is indicated in the reading from I Timothy, that calls us to a life of prayer, prayer for all those around us – including our leaders – whether we like them or not.

Prayer is much of what we’re about in this community of St. Paul’s. Who we are is what and how we pray. Or to use the old Latin phrase, lex orandi, lex credendi, which means the law of prayer is the law of belief. In other words, what we profess and what/how we pray speaks volumes about what we believe. We truly are who we say we are. That what we do here in our weekly worship leads us, strengthens us, empowers us to be the body of Christ in the everyday, work-a-day world.

Our Liberia outreach project, which is culminating in today’s final collection of clothes and money is about prayer and action. About how a handful of people, meeting weekly in prayer and fellowship, embarked on a project which has grown by leaps and bounds. How the Tuesday group’s prayer became action, and resulted in your donating clothes and money far beyond what anyone expected. We initially wondered if we could fill 10 barrels; today, by your generosity and faithfulness, it looks like we have 15 barrels of clothes and supplies to send to our brothers and sisters, adults and children, in Liberia.

Which leads to the third lesson from this gospel: Begin where you are. Work with what you have. It’s a stewardship message, really. Whatever gift you have, be faithful with it. Bring your baptism to this community. Let it unfold with whatever gifts – great or small – you have to offer. In the words of Martin Buber, “A tree gives glory to God by being a tree, for in being what God means it to be it is obeying God. The more a tree is like itself the more it is like God.”

As you consider what you have to offer, consider this wisdom of the early Hasidic sage, Rabbi Zusya, who had this vision of the judgment day: “In the coming world, they will not ask me: ‘Why were you not Moses? Why were you not Elijah?’ They will ask me ‘Why were you not Zusya?’”

The call is about what we do with what we’re given. It comes with sharing who you are and what you have – letting your gifts unfold as you are asked: What in God’s name are you doing?

Which brings me to one of my favorite stories. Fr. O’Malley was a priest in the Archdiocese of Boston. He was young, enthusiastic, energetic, committed, faithful. Fr. O’Malley wanted to do everything in his power to bring in the Kingdom of God. When he was 25, Fr. O’Malley was eager and passionate and thought God had charged him to save the world. By the time he was 35, the exigencies of life narrowed his sights a little, and he set as his goal saving the whole Roman Catholic Church. At 45, a little more reality kicked in and he had to narrow his goal yet again: now he saw his responsibility to save only the Archdiocese of Boston. Life moved on, and by the time Fr. O’Malley was 55, he had re-thought his life’s goal once more: at this point he had realized that he need work only to save his parish. As a few more years passed, Fr. O’Malley had more reality checks, and by the time he was 65, he realized that all he need do was worry about saving himself.

Use the gifts you have been given. Be who God has called you to be. Share yourself and your resources. Live into your baptism. Let God’s light and life shine through you.

Fred Craddock, the eminent teacher and preacher reminds us that “most of us this week will not have the opportunity to christen a ship, write a book, end a war, appoint a cabinet, dine with the queen, convert a nation, or be burned at the stake. But we will have the opportunity to give a cup of water, write a note, visit a nursing home, vote for a county commissioner, teach a Sunday School class, share a meal, tell a child a story, go to choir practice, feed a neighbor’s cat.” To be who we are.

Or in Jesus’ own words, Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much.