To Whom Much Is Given

Jesus was supposed to return two weeks ago. The internet announced his imminent arrival and then gave an update, he's been delayed. Still coming, just a few weeks later than planned. Must be flying into Newark.

              Presbyterians don't get these memos.  We are not usually in on apocalyptic prognostications.  We don't speak of rapture or the second coming.  If you are two thousand years delayed, Presbyterians believe we may not have heard your plans right. 

              Apocalypticism, the belief in the return of Jesus as judge of the world, appearing in the sky, gathering righteous folk and leaving wicked ones behind, apocalypticism has always been part of Christianity.  In the 1830s people who lived around Rochester, New York were so convinced Jesus was coming they sold their possessions, sat on hill tops on the day predicted by a local farmer, Joseph Miller. Jesus didn't come. 

              Two hundred years later the followers of Joseph Miller are still waiting.  You know them as Seventh Day Adventists and Jehovah's Witnesses.  The Adventists want to live in the sensibility and freedom arising from not looking ahead, living in the simplicity of the day.  The Jehovah's Witnesses are looking for signs, portents of Jesus' imminent arrival; they believe this is happening how, there is an urgency.  That is why they knock on your door and offer free bible lessons on street corners.  This is happening, get ready.

              I have a bumper sticker in my office, it reads, Jesus is coming, everybody look busy.  Never ceases to make me smile. There is an endearing innocence to the rapture seekers.  Yet, the predictions of Jesus' return on September 24th, 2025, made the New York Times.  They ran an article, interviewed bible scholars, gave the update on the new arrival time.  Can't say they took it seriously, but they did see it as news. 

              I have compassion for the apocalyptic.  I do.  I feel for them; pity the darkness which so often envelops the zealot.  Living in the tension of hyper vigilance—"the end is near"—is terribly unhealthy for the body and the soul.  To always be looking, expecting, waiting is exhausting.

              Growing up with such zeal and expectation, I distinctly remember stepping into a Presbyterian Church for the first time.  One of the great joys I found at First Presbyterian Church of San Diego was encountering a place of worship where the urgency to convert all, to save all, to spread the word as fast as possible so Jesus would come back soon and very soon, the absence of mania was like a bath, healing. These were nice folks loving God, trying to be kind, singing hymns in hymnals, and not looking to save your soul as the preacher begged you to the altar with the piano playing "Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus."  In the absence of zeal, I found patience, trust, peace.

              I mention the bumper sticker and Jehovah Witnesses, raptures and signs of the apocalypse because our reading today from Luke has always been read with such in mind, long as people have been reading the parable.  To read the parable as a description of the end of times, you need to allegorize it. 

              To allegorize is to see the parts of the parable as something else, a metaphor or symbol.  The owner, master who is delayed, Jesus as the returning judge.  The wicked slave, the Jews, corrupted church leaders who lead undisciplined lives; the good slave master, Christians following a strict code; and the other slaves are the world or the church-at-large. 

              The delay of course is Jesus' promised return.  The feeding of the slaves is preaching, teaching, caring for the poor.  The abusive slave is church leaders who forsake their calling and use the church as a place of wealth or personal gain.  Jesus is supposed to come as a thief in the night. For the apocalyptic this connection is obvious.  Yet, the most important symbol for the apocalyptic allegory is the judgment and punishment.  Jesus was nice the first time; Jesus won't be nice the second time.

              I speak of this allegory not because I believe it or value it.  I mention this because so many Christians read the parable this way. Most Christians in the United States anticipate an angry Jesus, a Jesus of fire and punishment.  Not Presbyterians mind you, but most Christians read this as an image of the coming judgment.  I don't read the parable this way, as a warning of violence to come, of imminent judgment but it has been read as such for centuries.

              If you are unfamiliar with apocalypticism and the idea that Jesus is coming with judgment and wrath, much of the rhetoric of Christian nationalism today just seems like anger.  And a lot of it is simple anger.  But when people talk of retribution and the warrior Jesus and the God who crushes your enemies, it comes from our reading today.  A lot of people will read this passage and say, "see, the owner returns and cuts the evil slave in half.  Lot of people are going to be surprised when judgment comes their way."

              If you believe Jesus is a just about ready to return with violence, our parable is confirmation.

              I don't believe Jesus is a warrior returning with vengeance.  And I don't believe our parable is apocalyptic no matter the temptation of allegory.  Our parable is about the mundane, the everyday temptations of life that come to all of us. 

              We can find the mundane in the choice of example Jesus offers.  The head slave, the leader of the servants, abuses his power and his authority.  A little bit of power was all it took to ruin him.  When he thought no one was looking he took advantage of people.  The power of this parable is how common, how basic it is.  This is not a fantastic or extreme example.  The head slave was not a king or emperor, he was not a governor or general, he was not an elite or extremely rich.  He's a slave amongst slaves who got drunk. 

              When Jesus speaks of abuse of power, he didn't choose an extreme example, he chooses someone who could be anyone.

              Remember the image Jesus chose for greed?  Remember the farmer who built a bigger barn because he had a bumper crop and Jesus says, "there is greed?"  He chose a simple farmer while all around him there were far more obvious examples of greed, of amassing fortunes while others starved.  Jesus does the same with the head slave.  He chooses a very mundane example because we can all fall to this temptation; abuse can come to all of us. 

              Consider the head slave in terms of raw power.  What did he really possess?  He had a responsibility.  His power was to care for others; the needs of others were entrusted to him for a time, brief time.  In terms of power (political power, cultural power, religious power, economic power) the head slave was nowhere near the top of the heap.  He was way down the pole of power.  And yet, that is what Jesus chose as a warning to us. 

              Peter asked, "are talking to us or to everyone?"  This is the great clue in Luke's use of the parable.  In answering the question, you get the meaning of the story.  The example of the head slave is to say, everyone can fall to the temptation of power, everyone, even a slave can abuse power.

              Whenever I ponder this parable, my memory always goes back to a small church in the middle of nowhere Ohio, Outville Presbyterian Church.  Outville is really a bump in the road.  Earns its name by simply being "out."  Where is Outville?  Out there.

              Bob was the pastor of Outville.  He was probably the age I am now.  He had been a pastor for a long time.  Outville was his new charge.  I visited Bob from time to time.  I have a habit of listening to other pastors, always trying to figure out what I am supposed to do. 

              On one visit Bob was really worked up.  The part-time sexton blew him off, didn't take Bob's direction.  He was hot.  He ranted until he reached a crescendo and said, "I am the head of staff; he has to listen to me."  And then he laid out his plan of wrath. 

              Having only been a pastor for a year or so, I didn't know a lot, but I did know Bob's bluster didn't quite match reality.  Outville was a small church.  There was a very part-time secretary, an organist who played on Sunday, a part-time sexton.  Bob was likely to see a dozen folks on Sunday in the very small sanctuary.  So the idea that he was "head of staff" seemed a bit out of whack.  And I am pretty sure what got him worked up had something to do with lawn maintenance. 

              Yet as I listened more, I learned a great lesson.  Doesn't take a lot of power to go to your head; don't have to be a power broker to be corrupted. 

              It turns out a local farmer had left Outville Presbyterian a lot of money.  So much money they could afford to pay Bob well and maintain the church with nice fixtures and amenities.  They had so much money, though, they didn't have to give.  The cost of the church was covered.  The gift ruined them. The church became a long argument of what to spend and when.  They were given a great opportunity, and they failed.  They were a mess.

              What I learned at Outville with Bob, what comes so close to our reading today is how easy it is for good things, good opportunities to ruin us.  It doesn't really take much power to make us into jerks. Jesus speaks of this often.  Beware the yeast of the pharisees.  How a little certainty can ruin you.  Don't worry about tomorrow.  You can't change it and if you could you would probably really mess it up.  Seek the kingdom of God.  Don't get distracted.

              The parable of the abusive head slave is best read as a simple warning of leadership.  It doesn't take much power to ruin us.  One minute we are a humble servant doing good things, but then we are the chair of the committee and now our word must be abided.  We hit the twenty-year membership level and suddenly, we are the voice that needs heeding.  What was a fun event is now some sort of gauntlet of bullying and abuse, tears and hand wringing.  It happens. It does.

              I don't like the apocalyptic reading of this parable.  I don't believe Jesus is coming to punish and cut people to pieces.  I don't.  I do believe we need to remember: Don't be a jerk.  If you are in charge, be kind, be a compassionate leader.  My bumper sticker says, Jesus is coming, everybody look busy; it doesn't say, Jesus is coming and it's really gonna hurt. So, watch out! 

              A little power and we are ruined.  The warning of abuse of power is much more helpful than a manic attempt to know the future.  Don't be a jerk; don't abuse power. 

              At the heart of apocalyptic thinking is fear.  Fear of the end, fear of tomorrow, fear of judgment and wrath.  Lots of people speak in the name of Jesus and they peddle fear.  Lots of people claim to love God, but they are preaching hate.  Jesus offers the good news not the bad news.

              The good news is that you can do well.  You can be a leader and be compassionate.  You can be entrusted with great responsibility and not be a jerk.  And remember this parable is not about the all-powerful, the super powerful.  It's about people like you and me.  We can fail, cause harm.  We can.  So remember don't be a jerk.  You can do better than that.  Amen.