Becoming the pigs
This week's goodness is on Luke 12:41-48:
These verses come at the tail end of bunch of parables about good stewardship and patience. The disciples were living simply with Jesus, so they were like "Who are these verses for?" Jesus answers their question with a question, like he often does. "Well, who do you think is giving stuff out to others?"
What Jesus warns us about is a problem a lot of new leaders have. The apostle Paul warns about it when he tells people not to put young men in positions of leadership. There's a natural tendency as a new leader to think that you're better than those you lead. By better, I don't mean more skilled or more gifted. I mean better in a value sense. Like you are worth more. Like you deserve better. Like you are more human, more real, more valuable in an absolute sense. When we consider those we lead to be less than us, we treat them as less. That is incompatible with being a servant, and is a kind of wickedness.
Jesus uses the example of a middle manager, tasked with distributing food while the estate owner is away. The manager doesn't own the estate. He's not a nobleman. He's a servant, just like the people he's caring for in the owner's absence. Unfortunately he lets his power go to his head. He forgets he is a servant. He abbreviates "I am in charge of feeding the other servants" to "I am in charge." He shortens "I was chosen to serve the food" to "I was chosen."
Before long, the newly minted manager is ruling with an iron fist. He's beating the people he's supposed to be caring for. Somehow he's gotten his hands on extra food and drink. Did he embezzle it from the supplies meant for the other servants, or did he declare himself to be the master and use his keys to raid the owner's private stash? He begins to forget about the estate owner entirely and begins to view himself as the master. The story could end there, but it doesn't.
Jesus tells us what happens when the manager who has forgotten himself is reminded unexpectedly. The master returns. It was never in question. Being evil brings a punishment of its own, but it brings a much more severe penalty when the evildoer in question was chosen for leadership. A leader known enough to the master to have been chosen also should have known better than to steal from him. He is cut to pieces and thrown out with the trash. Can you imagine the CEO coming in with a machete to fire an embezzling, backstabbing employee? Ouch!
Leadership is both dangerous and awesome. On the awesome side of things, you get to take part in God's work and do cool things for people. Sometimes you even see miracles! On the dangerous side of things, if you start focusing more on serving yourself than on the master or those in your care, it can turn ugly for you. The master knows what's going on, and he's already got tickets to come back and give you your review...
We see it often enough. People get high on the awesomeness, and then slowly turn evil. The 1980s were a great time to see this happen, but we've got our share of news stories in the 20th century. People start off with a good heart, passionate for Jesus and his work, and before you know it, they have people enslaved, dumping their life's savings into the leader's bank account, dragging stone blocks to build his pyramids, all while they starve. Sometimes he uses the charisma God gave him to take sexual advantage of those who would otherwise have followed him into doing God's work. Soon his house ends up just a bit bigger than the houses of those he serves. His car, clothes, and jewelry all get a little nicer. His food becomes richer and more plentiful than those he serves, all of this because he "deserves" it. He was chosen, after all.
Pretty soon, ministry is less about the Jesus and more about the G's. It becomes a business. Then marketing becomes more important than product. At some point in the whole story, the servant has placed himself in God's seat, and has begun to eat up the blessing that God gave him to serve others, or the blessing that God gave to others he was supposed to be serving. This does not end well.
It's easy to say "I'm not that guy" and then roll over and go back to sleep. Maybe you're not a leader right now. Or maybe you are, but you haven't started making the distinction between yourself and others yet. The problem is, this is a virus we all have under the surface. We need to consciously master it, or it will destroy our work. Pride is one of the A-list sins. And we know what comes after Pride...
Think about the people in your life, especially those you lead. Are you "special assistant to person X" or is person X your little helper to boss around and borrow stuff from? Are you interested in helping them to do greater things than you, or are they always just going to be an extension of you? Do you plan to gradually decrease, like Paul, or do you plan to grow in glory and power until you've "arrived?"
Our world tells us that we must master those around us in order to become great. All's fair in love and war. It tells us that we deserve everything we have, regardless of whether we earned it through labor, stole it through trickery, or got it handed to us via the pockets of other taxpayers. Jesus tells us we have to master ourselves, so that we can represent the master we cannot see. We're supposed to be playing by His rules, not the rules of the jungle around us.
"Is this parable for us, or for the other people?" It's for us. Don't ever forget that you're a servant, that someone greater than all of us is calling the shots -- someone who has every right to. God is the master. If he chose us, it's because he figured we could get the job done, not because we're a better class of people than those he's placed around us. Be the good servant, who is still doing it when the master checks on us, not the wicked servant who the master is forced to tear apart, piece by piece, because he's destroying the house he was supposed to maintain.
Peter asked, “Lord, are you telling this parable to us, or to everyone?”
The Lord answered, “Who then is the faithful and wise manager, whom the master puts in charge of his servants to give them their food allowance at the proper time? It will be good for that servant whom the master finds doing so when he returns. Truly I tell you, he will put him in charge of all his possessions. But suppose the servant says to himself, ‘My master is taking a long time in coming,’ and he then begins to beat the other servants, both men and women, and to eat and drink and get drunk. The master of that servant will come on a day when he does not expect him and at an hour he is not aware of. He will cut him to pieces and assign him a place with the unbelievers.
“The servant who knows the master’s will and does not get ready or does not do what the master wants will be beaten with many blows. But the one who does not know and does things deserving punishment will be beaten with few blows. From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.
These verses come at the tail end of bunch of parables about good stewardship and patience. The disciples were living simply with Jesus, so they were like "Who are these verses for?" Jesus answers their question with a question, like he often does. "Well, who do you think is giving stuff out to others?"
What Jesus warns us about is a problem a lot of new leaders have. The apostle Paul warns about it when he tells people not to put young men in positions of leadership. There's a natural tendency as a new leader to think that you're better than those you lead. By better, I don't mean more skilled or more gifted. I mean better in a value sense. Like you are worth more. Like you deserve better. Like you are more human, more real, more valuable in an absolute sense. When we consider those we lead to be less than us, we treat them as less. That is incompatible with being a servant, and is a kind of wickedness.
Jesus uses the example of a middle manager, tasked with distributing food while the estate owner is away. The manager doesn't own the estate. He's not a nobleman. He's a servant, just like the people he's caring for in the owner's absence. Unfortunately he lets his power go to his head. He forgets he is a servant. He abbreviates "I am in charge of feeding the other servants" to "I am in charge." He shortens "I was chosen to serve the food" to "I was chosen."
Before long, the newly minted manager is ruling with an iron fist. He's beating the people he's supposed to be caring for. Somehow he's gotten his hands on extra food and drink. Did he embezzle it from the supplies meant for the other servants, or did he declare himself to be the master and use his keys to raid the owner's private stash? He begins to forget about the estate owner entirely and begins to view himself as the master. The story could end there, but it doesn't.
Jesus tells us what happens when the manager who has forgotten himself is reminded unexpectedly. The master returns. It was never in question. Being evil brings a punishment of its own, but it brings a much more severe penalty when the evildoer in question was chosen for leadership. A leader known enough to the master to have been chosen also should have known better than to steal from him. He is cut to pieces and thrown out with the trash. Can you imagine the CEO coming in with a machete to fire an embezzling, backstabbing employee? Ouch!
Leadership is both dangerous and awesome. On the awesome side of things, you get to take part in God's work and do cool things for people. Sometimes you even see miracles! On the dangerous side of things, if you start focusing more on serving yourself than on the master or those in your care, it can turn ugly for you. The master knows what's going on, and he's already got tickets to come back and give you your review...
We see it often enough. People get high on the awesomeness, and then slowly turn evil. The 1980s were a great time to see this happen, but we've got our share of news stories in the 20th century. People start off with a good heart, passionate for Jesus and his work, and before you know it, they have people enslaved, dumping their life's savings into the leader's bank account, dragging stone blocks to build his pyramids, all while they starve. Sometimes he uses the charisma God gave him to take sexual advantage of those who would otherwise have followed him into doing God's work. Soon his house ends up just a bit bigger than the houses of those he serves. His car, clothes, and jewelry all get a little nicer. His food becomes richer and more plentiful than those he serves, all of this because he "deserves" it. He was chosen, after all.
Pretty soon, ministry is less about the Jesus and more about the G's. It becomes a business. Then marketing becomes more important than product. At some point in the whole story, the servant has placed himself in God's seat, and has begun to eat up the blessing that God gave him to serve others, or the blessing that God gave to others he was supposed to be serving. This does not end well.
It's easy to say "I'm not that guy" and then roll over and go back to sleep. Maybe you're not a leader right now. Or maybe you are, but you haven't started making the distinction between yourself and others yet. The problem is, this is a virus we all have under the surface. We need to consciously master it, or it will destroy our work. Pride is one of the A-list sins. And we know what comes after Pride...
Think about the people in your life, especially those you lead. Are you "special assistant to person X" or is person X your little helper to boss around and borrow stuff from? Are you interested in helping them to do greater things than you, or are they always just going to be an extension of you? Do you plan to gradually decrease, like Paul, or do you plan to grow in glory and power until you've "arrived?"
Our world tells us that we must master those around us in order to become great. All's fair in love and war. It tells us that we deserve everything we have, regardless of whether we earned it through labor, stole it through trickery, or got it handed to us via the pockets of other taxpayers. Jesus tells us we have to master ourselves, so that we can represent the master we cannot see. We're supposed to be playing by His rules, not the rules of the jungle around us.
"Is this parable for us, or for the other people?" It's for us. Don't ever forget that you're a servant, that someone greater than all of us is calling the shots -- someone who has every right to. God is the master. If he chose us, it's because he figured we could get the job done, not because we're a better class of people than those he's placed around us. Be the good servant, who is still doing it when the master checks on us, not the wicked servant who the master is forced to tear apart, piece by piece, because he's destroying the house he was supposed to maintain.
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