Have you ever had to deal with a person who has the style of a “used car salesman?” Our American culture has many stereotypes. They’re useful as shortcuts in movies and TV stories. The image of a used car salesman is one of those short-cut stereotypes. For the benefit of any of you who might happen to sell used cars, I want to say I’m sure this stereotype doesn’t exist in Houston. I’m really talking about Californian used car salesmen.
You have every reason to wonder what used car salesmen have to do with today’s readings. I think an appreciation for this stereotype can make today’s gospel a little easier to understand. The focus for today’s reflection is a difficult one: the focus for today’s homily is the relationship of compromise and trust. Basically the question is: do you really trust that salesman who says he’s giving you the best deal in town?
In order to see the used car salesman in today’s Gospel Reading you need to understand something about the economics of life in the time of Christ. Without this understanding, today’s gospel doesn’t make much sense. Why would a master praise his manager for what seems to be a lot of cheating?
First of all, you need to realize that the manager was probably a free man, not a slave. The manager was hired to take care of the master’s accounts. However, he didn’t receive a salary. Remember what you’ve heard about tax-collectors. How they gathered the taxes for the authorities but were entitled to keep a percentage for themselves. Well, estate managers worked on the same principle. We’d call it a commission.
The manger in today’s story was accused by others, probably some of the real servants, that he was holding out on the master, taking a bigger cut of the profits than he should have. If the manager had been a slave, he would have probably been imprisoned on the strength of the accusations. But as a freeman, he had some rights and was to be called on the carpet.
Furthermore, the manager may have been guilty of holding back more than he should have. He certainly acted guilty by fearing he was going to be dismissed by the master. So what did he do? He went to the master’s debtors and had them pay what was owed to the master; but without paying the commission that was due to him as the manger.
Now you have to admit that a 100% markup on oil is a pretty good commission! After all, when the client said he owed 100 jars of oil, and the manager was able to settle for 50 jars, that’s not a bad commission! Oil was a much better deal than wheat, where you got only 20 measures of wheat as your commission for the 80 due to the master. I hope our Houston people who deal in crude rather than in olives do as well!
Anyway, as a result of the manager’s actions, his boss got everything that was due to him and the clients were happy because they didn’t have to pay as much as they expected. It’s no wonder the master was able to praise the manager. It’s not often you are able to make both the company and the clients happy at the same time. You would have to agree, I think, that the manager displayed a good-ol’ Hebrew trait called “chutzpah“. It was for that he was praised.
I said that the focus of this reflection would be on “compromise” and upon “trust”. For some, you might believe that what the manager did was to work out a beautiful compromise. After all, both the master and the clients got the best of the deal and the manager did not lose his job. What more could you want? But what about the long run?
Would the manager be able to survive very long if he had to continuously forgo his commission? Without any money coming in, I don’t think so. Would his master trust him in the future? If the profits went down, would the master think the manager was again holding out on him? What about the clients? In the future, would they be as willing to pay the full-price that was demanded? Or would they want the manager to continue to reduce his commission? And, finally, if the master did dismiss the manager, would the clients really be all that willing to hire him on as their accountant? The question might be raised: not only “would you buy a used car from this man?” but also: “would you want this man working for you?”
Last week, deacon Les spoke about justice and mercy. This week, I’d like to reflect on compromise and trust – as well as upon forgiveness and amnesty. We are told that the Christian attitude is to forgive those who wronged you. To grant amnesty to those who were your enemies. To forget and forgive. But these virtues do not exist by themselves.
Do you recall the story when Jesus was asked to judge the woman who was accused of adultery. When no one was able to cast the first stone, Jesus forgave the woman. He granted her amnesty. But what did he say next? He said: “You may go. But from now on, avoid this sin.” Forgiveness requires repentance, a change of heart, a determination that the wrongful act will not be repeated.
Back in the old days when everyone went to weekly confession, Catholics were accused of being able to sin repeatedly and all we had to do was go to confession in order to get rid of the sin. But the truth of the matter was, that to obtain absolution, you had to promise to try to change, to try not to commit that same sin again. There was a recognition that, being human, we could fail once more, but the attempt to change had to be made. With forgiveness, there was a need to be trusted.
That need still exists today. There is a need for trust in small things, as Jesus says. Otherwise, how can you really trust a person when it comes to something important, the big things in life?
Parents need to be able to trust that the kids will be home when they say they will, otherwise, how can you trust them with the car? Parents need to be able to trust that their kids can stand up to the peer pressure of not joining in on the latest fad when the kids are told “it’s ok, everyone is doing it”. Otherwise, how can parents trust that their kids can also say “no” to crack?
With kids, it’s being able to trust that their parents will be there for them when problems and troubles do come up. How can a kid trust that this will be the case, when mom and dad don’t listen to the other things the kids have to say?
Life seems to be full of the potential for compromises. For slight adjustments in our principles and in our trustworthiness. Does it really matter that I add a little to my expense account? Do I try to justify it by saying I’m not really stealing from the company; and besides, nobody will miss it; nobody will be hurt by my small action; it’s all part of the system, anyway.
Would there be a need for a “war on drugs” if people didn’t start with small compromises? Like saying: “marijuana isn’t really addictive; it’s ok to use it for ‘recreational’ purposes.” Or how about: “everyone at work uses a little coke now and then. It’s ok to get a lift that way. After-all, I’m strong enough to avoid mis-using it. I can stop whenever I want to.” All of these are forms of compromises.
Nations have problems with compromises, too. Can superpower One compromise with superpower Two and really reach a peaceful settlement? “Yes,” if there is trust; “No,” if there is no trust. Can a minority accept the conditions of the majority and not be afraid of the consequences? Yes, if there is trust; no if there is no trust.
Compromise. Seeing the other person’s needs and your own needs and working out a joint solution. That is an appropriate Christian approach. Yet, compromise with evil is never allowed. Giving in to evil is not an appropriate Christian approach. How do you tell the difference? How do you judge when evil is present? When are the principles so important that compromise is not possible? There are no easy answers to that question.
Jesus did give us some guidelines. He said to forgive those who do wrong. But there must first be a repentance, a willingness to change. How do we know that there is a willingness to change? By observing a person’s behavior in small things and trusting that these actions will suggest how a person will behave in more important things.
He also said you can not serve two masters. In the old translations, it was: “you can’t serve God and mammon.” Now it’s called “money”. But mammon is still a useful concept. Mammon is any worldly possession that leads us away from God and from positive relationships with others.
The prophet Amos in the First Reading spoke about merchants who cheated in their measurements and about those who thought a poor man was worth less than the price of a pair of worn-out sandals. Such people followed mammon, not the Lord God. In our own day, perhaps crack and other drugs are our form of mammon. They offer high profits for some and death for many more.
But change is possible. It is possible to turn from mammon, no matter what that mammon might be, and to turn towards God. That, after all, is what being a Christian is all about. The willingness to change: first in small ways. Then: in larger ones, which turn out not to be all that large after the small steps have been taken. We show how we can be trusted in small actions. We suddenly discover we can handle the greater trusts given to us.
I began this reflection with a used car salesman. Jesus never had to deal with a used car salesman. But I doubt if he ever bought a donkey from someone he couldn’t trust. Would he have bought a donkey from you?
Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time; September 24, 1989
Amos 8:4-7; 1 Tim 2:1-8; Lk 16:1-13