Among fictional New Testament characters, the steward in the parable we just heard [Luke 16:1-13] has always been particularly popular. “To did I am not able, to beg I am ashamed,” he used to say in the nicer translation with which those of my generation were once familiar. He is commonly called “the unjust steward,” but his master commended him for how he acted. Jesus seems to propose him as a model for the disciples – presumably not for squandering his master’s property, but for his prudence, for what in classical philosophical language would be called his practical wisdom.
Jesus’ point seems to be that, faced with the greatest crisis of his life, the steward focused on the clear goal of guaranteeing his long-term security and acted accordingly, forgoing the commission that he might have received as steward, in order to ingratiate himself with those who could guarantee him such security. He is a model for having his priorities in order and focusing single-mindedly on his mission, and for his readiness to sacrifice short-term gains for long-term security. Jesus clearly expects no less of us!
Jesus’ parable suggests that negotiating our way through the ongoing challenges of ordinary life requires intelligent practical judgments. These in turn require the virtue that is always listed first among the classical cardinal virtues – prudence.
On the one hand, one of the most radical challenges of Christianity, humanly speaking, is the notion that one cannot serve both God and mammon. Our ultimate commitment must be to God’s kingdom, to which all other claims – family, friends, career, country – must be subordinate. On the other hand, even if my family, friends, career, country, etc. are all transitory, still they describe where I am right now, - living, growing, and becoming, for better or for worse, the person I will remain for all eternity.
And so, already in the 1st century, St. Paul - in his 1st letter to Timothy [1 Timothy 2:1-8] – connected the earthly and eternal dimensions of our lives, forever after forcing us to do the same. I ask, Paul wrote to Timothy, that supplications, prayers, petitions, and thanksgivings be offered for everyone, for kings and for all in authority, that we may lead a quiet and tranquil life in all devotion and dignity.
How utopian that sounds in our troubled present time - a quiet and tranquil life in all devotion and dignity
Of course, even without Saint Paul, the ordinary experience of life itself forces us to figure out how to relate the transitory and the eternal. In the words of one early Christian writer [Tertullian, Apologeticus, 31]: When the Empire is shaken, all of its parts are shaken also, hence even though we stand outside its tumults, we are caught in its misfortunes. Not much has changed since then. We live in a world full of tumults and misfortunes! Hence, he too promoted prayer for Emperors, their ministers, for the condition of the world, for peace everywhere, and for the delaying of the end [39]. And so too must we! If a fully human life requires social commitment and political participation, then our prayer and worship must somehow acknowledge this.
In the Old Testament, when Israel was exiled in a foreign land, God gave his people this advice through the prophet Jeremiah: Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I exiled from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses to dwell in; plant gardens and eat their fruits. … Promote the welfare of the city to which I have exiled you; pray for it to the Lord, for upon its welfare depends your own [Jeremiah 29:4-7].
What Jeremiah calls the welfare of the city – peace, prosperity, security, justice, in short what we call the common good– all that is the purpose of social and political life. That in turn requires citizens – engaged participants, who are not passive spectators in the story of our national life, living as if life were just some short ferry boat ride, not noticing or caring how the boat is being steered and whether or not all the passengers are adequately equipped with life jackets. On the contrary, how the boat is being steered and whether all the passengers are adequately equipped must be among our preeminent priorities.
In a society which has witnessed a dramatic decline in civic community life in recent years, as Americans have become increasingly isolated and mutually suspicious, we are challenged today to rediscover the basic human task to step beyond our private space, to take responsibility for more than just ourselves, and to be accountable for and to one another. Then we may hope, as Saint Paul did, to lead a quiet and tranquil life in all devotion and dignity.
Homily for the 25th Sunday in Ordinary time, Saint Paul the Apostle Church, NY, September 21, 2025.
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