A teacher enraged upends tables, the forgiveness-currency coins scatter on the stone floor. He calls out that this is not okay, his dad would not be impressed—shady deals ripping off the poor who walked in from afar to find some inner peace.
The same teacher told a story, a parable. Three servants, all given a sum of money but not much direction, except to look after it.
The one guy played it safe.
Knew his boss was a shrewd, demanding guy.
When he handed it back after he was in trouble, distrusted and even kicked out. What for? For burying the master’s trusted possessions.
The other guys risked it.
Of their own accord.
Risking it—sounds risky.
The bankers brought in some interest on Wall Street or Currency & Commodity Markets, and got the “well done!” from the master. The guy who buried was left with “where’s the interest?”
The master wanted a return.
Jesus turned the tables of those selling religion.
And his story included a “well done” for the Wall Street investors.
He wasn’t shutting down the casinos. He was waiting patiently, longingly, for the gamblers to take a risk, a relational risk of walking out into a spiritual desert and meet the man who makes bread from rocks, who is infuriated with requests for finance veiled as doctrine.
Maybe it’s about having the right perspective, being over-generous, giving away, cancelling debts and helping people be free. I have some friends who do that—they make money, give it away and help others learn how to make it, use it and give it away. I see in them prudence and wisdom.
As I listened to another request for finance from a wealthy TV Christian speaker, I can almost see a bearded man in the back, stepping onto the set, turning over another millionaire selling prosperity in the name of a carpenter from the 1st century. Making money off religion? Those tables may turn or flip, and maybe the glimmer and shine of stuff they held briefly will be exchanged back and given with jubilee to the meek, who will inherit the earth, the true beauty and richness we walk on.
And you, like I, will find that Jesus calls the religious out and the wealthy to come in, to gather under the stars, to sit, talk, spending some of this priceless commodity called time to get to know the one where all risks are welcome, to find out where the real party will begin.
Where those who master meekness will inherit it all.
The earth, for time without limit, and have a ball.
By Jonathan McCallum