The Unjust Steward … part of the East Window in Saint Michael’s Church, Limerick, made 1878 by Mayer & Co and illustrating 10 parables (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)
Patrick Comerford
Next Sunday, 22 September 2019, is the Fourteenth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity XIV).
The appointed readings in the Revised Common Lectionary, as adapted for use in the Church of Ireland, are in two groups: the continuous readings and the paired readings.
Continuous readings: Jeremiah 8: 18 to 9: 1; Psalm 79: 1-9; I Timothy 2: 1-7; Luke 16: 1-13. There is a link to the readings HERE.
Paired readings: Amos 8: 4-7; Psalm 113; I Timothy 2: 1-7; Luke 16: 1-13. There is a link to the readings HERE.
‘Hark, the cry of my poor people from far and wide in the land’ (Jeremiah 8: 19) … the Famine Memorial by the sculptor Rowan Gillespie on Custom House Quay, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Introducing the readings:
If you are preaching at a Harvest Thanksgiving in these coming weeks, I hope you do not have to chose one verse from next Sunday’s Old Testament reading: ‘The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved’ (Jeremiah 8: 20).
Nor do I hope any of us is preaching on the first verse in the psalm: ‘O God, the heathen have come into your inheritance; they have profaned your holy temple …’ (Psalm 79: 1).
The Unjust Steward is probably not a choice parable for any sermon either. On the previous Sunday, the Gospel reading (Luke 15: 1-10) provided one of the many images of the Good Shepherd. Many people look forward to ‘Good Shepherd Sunday,’ most churches have stained glass windows with the Good Shepherd, the Church of Ireland even has a Church of the Good Shepherd in Belfast.
But nobody knows next Sunday as ‘Unjust Steward Sunday,’ and I know of only one stained glass window depicting the Unjust Steward – in Saint Michael’s Church, Limerick – and no parish would like to be called ‘the Church of the Unjust Steward.’
Throughout these readings, there is a common thread: ignoring and exploiting the plight of the oppressed and the poor is turning away from God and turning towards idolatry. We are called to turn around, and in turning to the needs of the poor we find that we are turning to God.
‘O that my head were a spring of water, and my eyes a fountain of tears, so that I might weep day and night’ (Jeremiah 9: 1) … a fountain at the Pantheon in Rome (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Jeremiah 8: 18 to 9: 1:
This passage was written in the 600s BCE, when the leaders and people of Judah, the southern kingdom, had been straying from God’s ways for generations. They had formed alliances with Egypt and other foreign countries in the hope of avoiding invasion from the north by Babylon. The Prophet Jeremiah links religious apostasy with these military policies, for through alliances with foreign powers, Judah had adopted their ways and their gods.
Jeremiah is filled with grief and he is sick at heart, distressed at Judah’s conduct and its consequences for the poor people throughout the land. The poor cry out, wondering where God is to be found in midst of their plight, and feel they have been deserted or abandoned by God: ‘Is the Lord not in Zion?’
God speaks through Jeremiah, who says Judah has provoked God with the adoption of foreign ways and the worship of foreign idols. This may have coincided with a year of drought, when the people realise the good times have come to an end and the poor in particular suffer the consequences.
Jeremiah asks whether there is any way of restoring past prosperity. The plight of the poor is so great and the looming disaster seems so inevitable that Jeremiah is moved to tears and weeps day and night.
‘They defiled your holy temple; they have laid Jerusalem in ruins’ or ‘a heap of stones’ (Psalm 79: 1) (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)
Psalm 79: 1-9:
This Psalm is ascribed to Asaph. The land has been invaded, the Temple has been sacked and Jerusalem has been in ruins, probably in the year 587 BCE. The sanctuary has been defiled by pouring the blood of victims round the base of the altar, like a ritual sacrifice.
Judah is taunted, mocked and derided by its neighbours, and so feels that God is being taunted too.
The invasion is seen as God’s punishment for ungodliness. But the psalmist asks God to direct his anger at the nations and kingdoms that have brought this about and who have laid waste Jerusalem and Judah.
The people now turn to God and ask for God’s salvation, deliverance and forgiveness.
‘For there is one God; there is also one mediator between God and humankind, Christ Jesus’ (I Timothy 2: 5) … an image in the Monastery of Rousanou in Meteora, Greece (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)
I Timothy 2: 1-7:
For seven weeks, we are reading from Saint Paul’s two letters to Saint Timothy (15 September to 27 October). Timothy and Titus worked as missionaries with Paul; Timothy remained in Ephesus and Titus remained in Crete. Timothy, the son of a Greek father and a Jewish mother (see Acts 16: 1), often co-signs many of the Pauline letters (II Corinthians, Philippians, I Thessalonians and Philemon).
At a time when Christians came under suspicion with the civil authorities for not joining in the worship of Roman gods, the author urges them to pray for everyone, especially those who hold high office, so that they may live quiet and peaceable lives.
He reminds them in an early Christian credal formula that God desires that everyone should be saved and come to know the truth. God desires this for there is one God for all people; and there is one mediator, Christ, who shared our humanity and who gave his life as a ransom for all.
For this, Saint Paul says, he has been appointed a herald, an apostle and a teacher of all nations (translated as the Gentiles) in faith and truth.
‘The Unjust Steward,’ by the Kazakhstan Artist, Nelly Bube (Bubay)
Luke 16: 1-13:
As he continues on his journey to Jerusalem, Christ has more to say about what is required of a disciple. Many in the crowd are poor and oppressed, so a story about a rich man and his agent (verses 1-8) has true resonances for them.
A steward or ‘manager’ (NRSV) negotiates and signs contracts on behalf of his master, a rich man who is probably an absentee landlord.
Mosaic law forbids charging interest on a loan, and the parable does not suggest that the manager s removing an interest charge, despite what many commentaries say.
The debtor in verse 6 had probably received 50 jugs of olive oil but the bill was for 100. The manager settles the account by forgiving the overcharging, probably to his master’s benefit but not to his own. The lord (verse 8) or rich man praises the manager for acting shrewdly, or, as the Greek meaning puts it, pragmatically. Both men understand prudent use of financial resources.
At the time, ‘the children of light’ (verse 8) was a name for the spiritually enlightened. So, business people are presented as being more pragmatic in their sphere than are disciples in affairs of the kingdom.
Then, in verse 9, Christ advises the accumulation of heavenly capital by providing for the needy. If we do this in our own small ways in this world, God will see us as trustworthy when it comes to the Kingdom of God. Being faithful now involves sharing possessions. Our financial resources are gifts from God and they belong to another.
But there is a sting in the tail in verse 13: we cannot make a god out of money and continue to serve God. We must serve God exclusively, using material resources for his purposes, sharing with the needy. The alternative is being enslaved to materialism.
Where is the place for Christian values in today’s world of finance and debt? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Gospel reflection 1:
In this economy, this parable could easily sound like a manifesto for NAMA, the National Assets Management Agency, which is buying properties from indebted bankers and speculators at knock-down, discount prices, so they can get back to business, but at the expense of the taxpayers. But, at face value, this story is in danger of portraying approval by Jesus for deceit.
Sarah Dylan Breuer, author of the celebrated American blog Sarah Laughed (www.sarahlaughed.net), says most commentators agree this story is about how the shrewd steward acts decisively, and that Jesus is describing the ‘in-breaking of the Kingdom of God, call[ing] upon us all to act decisively.’ But is Jesus really commending a crook who acted decisively?
Take the master, who is confronted with a fait accompli. Who does he represent? The master in this parable, in the original Greek, is actually called the Lord (ὁ κύριός, ho kyrios, see verses 3, 5 and 8; see also verse 13): it is the Lord who is praised (verse 8), and it is in the Lord’s name that unexpected forgiveness is extended.
So, am I supposed to be like the unjust steward? It is interesting that the Greek word Saint Luke uses here for the steward, οἰκονόμος (oikonómos), the one responsible for the household, is used when Saint Paul says those in ministry are ‘servants of Christ and stewards of God’s mysteries,’ that as ‘stewards’ we must be found trustworthy (I Corinthians 4: 1-2; c.f. I Peter 4: 10), that ‘a bishop, as God’s steward, must be blameless’ (Titus 1: 7).
So, what is it that the shrewd steward or unjust manager does?
Well, the shrewd steward forgives debt. So, this passage is less about clever trading but all about forgiveness. And, as Sarah Dylan Breuer points out, forgiveness is an overarching theme throughout the Gospels. How often should I forgive? As Saint Luke reminds us in his next chapter, even if someone offends seven times a day, I should be willing to forgive them seven times (Luke 17: 1-4). Seven … the perfect number … I should be willing to forgive perfectly.
Forgiveness is so important to discipleship that what the steward does cannot be dismissed, despite his shrewd dealing, his agility as a three-card trickster dressed up as a cunning estate agent – and, in case you think I am biased, I said ‘cunning estate agent,’ not ‘all estate agents’ … I started training as a chartered surveyor and estate manager but never stayed the course. I was far happier to set my sights on becoming a steward of the mysteries of God.
If this story is all about forgiveness, then despite the cunning reasons the shrewd steward may have for forgiving, despite the fact that he had no right to forgive, he forgives. And it is this, perhaps, that redeems him in the eyes of the Lord.
What are the implications for us as Christians if Sarah Dylan Breuer is correct?
Well, then we must forgive, even if forgiveness helps us, even if we have no right to forgive, even if it does not benefit us at all. We must forgive with grand irresponsibility.
But there is another difficult point in this Gospel story. Verses 10-11 say: ‘Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much; and whoever is dishonest in a very little is dishonest also in much. If then you have not been faithful with the dishonest wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches?’
Being faithful with what is given to me is also a familiar Gospel theme: it is found in the parable of the talents. But being faithful with dishonest wealth is a puzzling concept, even if it speaks to the present economic dilemmas in Ireland. Is it still possible to manage goods in ways that are appropriate to, that witness to, that are signs of the Kingdom of God?
If I am responsible for the small things in life, then hopefully I can be responsible for the large things. Very few of us are asked to do huge things, such as win a by-election, finish a masterpiece, solve the banking crisis, score a winning try or goal. But we are asked to do a multitude of small things – within our family, our friends, our neighbours, our fellow students, in our local community.
And: ‘Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much.’ Yet, it is often most difficult to forgive the small things.
I heard a comedian tell of a young man, up from the provinces, starting work in a menial clerical post in Dublin, living in a cramped, one-room flat in Rathmines. In the room above is another man in similar circumstances, working late shifts as a labourer.
Each night, just as he goes to sleep, the office worker is woken by his neighbour as he opens the front door, clumps-clumps up the stairs, plods into his room above, sits on his bed, and throws his two big boots on the floor above this poor, weary and demented friend, one-by-one.
Each night, this sad insurance clerk waits for the same routine, knowing that he cannot get to sleep until at least he hears both boots being thumped on the floor above.
One day, being a Christian, the more timid office worker approaches his neighbour, explains the problem, and asks could he come in quietly, and take his shoes off gently.
Surprisingly, his neighbour is sympathetic, understanding. The next night, he turns the key quietly, tip toes upstairs, sits down quietly, takes off both shoes in one go and places them together, gently, on the floor above.
Meanwhile, his friend is lying in bed, waiting anxiously. He cannot get any shut eye. He has heard his neighbour come in, go up, sit down, and has heard the one muffled thud on the floor … Only one … he waits … he tosses … he waits … he turns … And finally, he can wait no more. He screams out: ‘Would you throw down the other darn shoe and let’s all go to sleep!’
Learning to forgive the very little slights and offences is often very difficult with those we live close to. Sometimes, it is easier to forgive when it comes to the big things. Yet we ask God in the Psalm: ‘Remember not our past sins; let your compassion be swift to meet us …’ (Psalm 79: 8).
God, as the Lord, reaps his own rewards. But as stewards of the mysteries of God, Saint Paul urges us in the Epistle reading to make supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings for everyone (I Timothy 2: 1).
Our spiritual relationship with God is reflected in our social and economic relationship with others. If we can be entrusted with the small things, are ready to forgive the small things, then we can be entrusted with the biggest of all … We can be stewards of the mysteries of God.
Perhaps, like the shrewd steward, we need to be as wise as serpents and as harmless as doves.
How do we reconcile the needs of the today’s poor with the demands of our modern economy? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Gospel reflection 2:
Is the principal character in this Gospel story the ‘Unjust Steward,’ or, as the NRSV calls him, the ‘dishonest manager’ (Luke 16: 1-13)?
It might be to work with the previous Sunday’s images of the Good Shepherd or the widow searching for the lost coin (Luke 15: 1-10) to contemplate in the week ahead as we ponder and think about next Sunday’s sermon.
So, let me tell next Sunday’s story in another way. At the age of 18, I started training as a chartered surveyor and estate manager. I never finished that training, but I can visualise some of the characters in this story.
A very, very rich man lives in a big city, let’s say Dublin. He has a luxurious lifestyle made possible by the income from the apartments, hotels and office blocks he owns in the city centre. He has been a major property developer, and a key shareholder in one of the business banks lending to developers.
He has hired an estate manager to run his property holding company, his building society, and his insurance agency while he spends most of his time in his large country house in Kildare or Meath, or golfing and on his yacht in Marbella.
All the work of painting, maintaining the lifts and the plumbing in his apartment blocks, working the bar and servicing the rooms in his hotels, and working at the call centres in the office blocks, is done by people who travel in and out from the rims of the city, people whose grandparents probably once lived in the small terraced houses that once stood along the docks or the canal banks but were levelled to build those apartments, office blocks and hotels.
They pay their mortgages to the bank that financed the apartment blocks and similar developments. Their overdrafts are from the same bank. Their mortgage insurance and life assurance policies are from an agency he owns. They find themselves increasingly in debt, paying school fees, running a car or two cars, meeting hire purchase payments for fridges, freezers, TVs, the children’s school fees and laptops ... What they earn is never enough to pay off their mortgages, their overdrafts, their term loans.
Their families are slipping further and further into debt, working harder and harder to pay what cannot be paid.
But they never meet the rich developer. The immediate face of this system, of his companies and his investments, is the face of the estate agent who manages the blocks – a man whose grandparents came from the same families as the people who now suffer under his management.
However, his parents had escaped the system, he got a good education, and then got sucked into the system.
The developer hears rumours that the estate manager, who is also his insurance agent, has been squandering the developer’s resource, and gives him his dismissal notice. Now, remember that ‘squandering’ is not necessarily a bad word here – the sower in another parable squanders seed by tossing it on roads and in bird-feeding zones, and the shepherd in last Sunday’s parable potentially squanders 99 sheep by running after the lost one; the widow searching for her lost coin risks losing her other nine as she sweeps everything out.
Anyway, the estate agent has to work out his notice, but is no longer authorised to let, to rent, to buy, to sell, to do anything at all in the developer’s name.
He probably shares the same background only a generation or two ago with the maintenance workers, the tenants, the workers in the office blocks. But when he is out on his ear, they are not going to help him to find a place to live, or find a new job, given that up to now he has allied himself with the developer’s interests, collecting high rents, refusing to bring down rents when the reviews are due, managing the work rotas for the maintenance workers, forcing them to work longer hours rather than taking on the staff needed for the job, dealing unjustly with both tenants and workers.
He has been demanding higher rents and premiums, and longer working hours, yet providing fewer and fewer services – doing what all good economists advised him to do: increasing profit margins and productivity and cutting costs at one and the same time.
He may be shrewd, but that is why he is called ‘the dishonest manager’ (verse 8).
So what does the agent do?
He does something that is extraordinarily clever.
He gathers all the tenants and workers who owe him money, and he declares that their debts have been written down, more than NAMA could ever write them down, to something that might be repaid, freeing families from heart-breaking choices. He has been upping their rents and their premiums; now he brings them all back to a payable rate. And in doing this, he manages to wipe out the arrears that have been mounting up.
The smart agent manages not to tell the tenants or the workers that he has been sacked. Nor does he tell them that the developer has not authorised any of his largesse. But the tenants and the workers now think the developer, their landlord, is more generous than anyone else in his position could be. The developer is now a hero in their eyes – and, by extension, the agent is too.
The developer comes for his quarterly or annual visit to pick up the income the agent has collected for him, and he gets a surprise that is exhilarating and challenging. The people are delighted to see him. Workers shake his hands, tenants lean out of balconies to wave at him, children want to have photographs taken with him.
Then, as he inspects the books in the small office the agent has worked from in the complex, he finds out what the agent has done in telling the tenants and the workers that the developer has forgiven their debts.
He has a choice to make.
He can go and tell them that it was all a terrible mistake, that the agent’s stroke amounted not to generosity but to theft, or at least to dishonesty, and has no legal basis – he can tell them they are still responsible for the unpaid rent, for the overdrawn loans.
The warm welcome could quickly turn to nasty protests.
Or, the developer can go outside, bask in the unexpected welcome he has received, and take credit for the agent’s actions. At least he has cash in his hand where once he might have had nothing because of defaulting tenants and clients. That would save him going to court, but has he to take the agent back to work for him?
What would you do?
Picture yourself in this dilemma, both as the agent and as the developer.
From the agent’s point of view, does it matter any more what the developer decides to do?
Whatever decision the developer makes, his future is safe: either he gets his job back, or his own people are going to look after him.
But here is the big problem: what the agent did is clearly dishonest. He has taken the landlord’s property and squandered it – even after he was sacked and had no right to do anything in the developer’s name.
What is it that the agent has done, without permission? Who has he deceived?
The agent forgives. He forgives things that he had no right to forgive. He forgives for all the wrong reasons, for personal gain and to compensate for his past misconduct. But that’s the decisive action that he undertakes to redeem himself from a position from which it seems he could not be reconciled, to the developer any more than to the tenants and workers.
So what is the moral of the story?
This story is unique to Saint Luke’s Gospel, and for him there is a significance that is important throughout the third gospel: Forgive. Forgive it all. Forgive it now. Forgive it for any reason you want. Forgive for the right reason. Forgive for the wrong reason. Forgive for no reason at all. Just forgive.
Remember, Saint Luke’s version of the Lord’s Prayer includes the helpful confusion: καὶ ἄφες ἡμῖν τὰς ἁμαρτίας ἡμῶν, καὶ γὰρ αὐτοὶ ἀφίομεν παντὶ ὀφείλοντι ἡμῖν: καὶ μὴ εἰσενέγκῃς ἡμᾶς εἰς πειρασμόν (‘and forgive us our sins for indeed we ourselves are forgiving everyone who is [monetarily] indebted to us’) (Luke 11: 4) – the monetary indebtedness is obvious in the original Greek.
We pray it, but do we put it into practice?
The arrival of the Kingdom of God is no occasion for score-keeping of any kind, whether monetary or moral.
Why should I forgive someone who has sinned against me, or against my sense of what is obviously right? I don’t have to do it out of love for the other person.
I could forgive the other person because of what I pray in the Lord’s Prayer every Sunday if not every morning.
I could forgive because I know I would like to be forgiven myself.
I could forgive because I know what it is like to be me when I am unforgiving.
I could forgive because I am, or I want to be, deeply in touch with a sense of Christ’s power to forgive and free someone just like me.
Or I could forgive because I think it will improve my life and sense of well-being.
It boils down to the same thing: deluded or sane, selfish or unselfish, there is no bad reason to forgive.
Extending the kind of grace God shows me in every possible arena – financial and moral – can only put me more deeply in touch with God’s grace.
If a crafty agent, a dishonest manager, an unjust steward, the sort of person we meet in this Gospel reading, can forgive to save his job or give himself a safety net when he is sacked, then those of us who have the experience of real grace, we have been invited to the Heavenly Banquet, we who pray in the words of the Psalm, ‘Remember not our past sins; let your compassion be swift to meet us’ (Psalm 79: 8), we who believe, as the Apostle Paul says in the Epistle reading, that Christ ‘gave himself a ransom for all’ (I Timothy 2: 6) – we have a better reason than most people to forgive.
‘What kind of world do we want to leave to those who come after us, to children who are now growing up?’ … a sunny September afternoon on the River Maigue at Ferrybridge, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)
Gospel reflection 3, The Season of Creation, 2019
The Season of Creation is celebrated throughout the Christian world from 1 September, the feast of Creation, to 4 October, the feast of Saint Francis of Assisi.
This year, the Roman Catholic, Orthodox and Anglican Churches and the World Council of Churches have united in celebrating this special time.
Resources for Sunday and weekday services throughout the Season of Creation were posted on this site on 21 August 2019 HERE.
Each week during this season, these pages are also offering resources and reflections on the Sunday Gospel reading related to the theme of the Season of Creation, which have been circulated by the Bishop of Limerick and Killaloe, the Right Revd Kenneth Kearon.
Homily or Gospel Reflection by Jane Mellett, Kingdom Economics:
If you think that all the parables Jesus told were nice stories about people of integrity then today’s Gospel might make you think again. The manager has been given notice by his CEO and decides to even up the tables, while he still can, for those who are struggling to pay their debts to the company. He is happy to let debt go and redistribute the finances. The only value the money really has is in the way it is disposed of. The manager won’t be the most successful man on the planet compared to the ‘children of the light,’ who are more concerned with accounts than with real people, but he is free-spirited and values what is important. Yes he is a bit of a scoundrel, but Jesus liked scoundrels, once their efforts were put to good use.
During this past year we have seen young people rise up and challenge the governments of the world to take immediate action on climate change. In March 2019 the Global Protest for Climate involved over 1.2 million young people worldwide. Initiated by Swedish activist Greta Thunberg, the climate protests shine as a beacon of hope in dark times. Greta stands up to world leaders and calls them to account. She is a modern prophet inspiring millions of young people into political action and challenging all of us to raise our voices for our common home. During this Season of Creation, what can your community do to support these young people? As church, what do we have to say to this powerful movement? The manager in today’s parable invites us to ‘holy mischief.’
‘What kind of world do we want to leave to those who come after us, to children who are now growing up? ... Doomsday predictions can no longer be met with irony or disdain. We may well be leaving to coming generations debris, desolation and filth.’ (Laudato Si,160-161).
Suggestion for the week: Explore how you might join with the eco-groups in your community to rejoice in the gift of creation, to share eco-stories and hear other good news of what is already happening. Perhaps you can explore becoming an ‘eco-parish’? (see www.ecocongregationireland.com) and ask young people in your area to help you.
A ‘To Let’ sign within view of a Cambridge college chapel … can we reconcile the values of the Kingdom and the demands of commercial life? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Luke 16: 1-13:
16 Then Jesus said to the disciples, ‘There was a rich man who had a manager, and charges were brought to him that this man was squandering his property. 2 So he summoned him and said to him, “What is this that I hear about you? Give me an account of your management, because you cannot be my manager any longer.” 3 Then the manager said to himself, “What will I do, now that my master is taking the position away from me? I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg. 4 I have decided what to do so that, when I am dismissed as manager, people may welcome me into their homes.” 5 So, summoning his master’s debtors one by one, he asked the first, “How much do you owe my master?” 6 He answered, “A hundred jugs of olive oil.” He said to him, “Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it fifty.” 7 Then he asked another, “And how much do you owe?” He replied, “A hundred containers of wheat.” He said to him, “Take your bill and make it eighty.” 8 And his master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly; for the children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light. 9 And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes.
10 ‘Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much; and whoever is dishonest in a very little is dishonest also in much. 11 If then you have not been faithful with the dishonest wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches? 12 And if you have not been faithful with what belongs to another, who will give you what is your own? 13 No slave can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.’
‘Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much’ (Luke 16: 10) … old pennies on a table in a pub in Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Liturgical Resources:
Liturgical Colour: Green.
The Collect of the Day:
Almighty God,
whose only Son has opened for us
a new and living way into your presence:
Give us pure hearts and steadfast wills
to worship you in spirit and in truth,
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Collect of the Word:
O God,
you call us to serve you:
enable us to be faithful in minor tasks
so that we may be entrusted
with your true riches.
We ask this through Jesus your Son,
our Lord Jesus Christ,
who lives and reigns with you
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever.
The Post-Communion Prayer:
Lord God,
the source of truth and love:
Keep us faithful to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship,
united in prayer and the breaking of bread,
and one in joy and simplicity of heart,
in Jesus Christ our Lord.
‘I was ill and you visited me’ … a sculpture by Timothy Schmalz on the steps of Santo Spirito Hospital near the Vatican (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Suggested Hymns:
Jeremiah 8: 18 to 9: 1:
62, Abide with me; fast falls the eventide
618, Lord of all hopefulness, Lord of all joy
Psalm 79: 1-9:
569, Hark, my soul, it is the Lord
Amos 8: 4-7:
535, Judge eternal, throned in splendour
486, People of God, arise
509, Your kingdom come, O God
Psalm 113:
501, Christ is the world’s true light
360, Let all the world in every corner sing
718, O praise the Lord, ye servants of the Lord
719, Praise the Lord, all you servants of the Lord
712, Tell out, my soul, the greatness of the Lord
73, The day thou gavest, Lord, is ended
I Timothy 2: 1-7:
518, Bind us together, Lord
319, Father, of heaven, whose love profound
419, I am not worthy, holy Lord
81, Lord, for the years your love has kept and guided
619, Lord, teach us how to pray aright
673, O Christ, our hope, our hearts’ desire
366, Praise, my soul, the King of heaven
540, To thee, our God, we fly
Luke 16: 1-13:
643, Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart
567, Forth in thy name, O Lord, I go
81, Lord, for the years your love has kept and guided
638, O for a heart to praise my God
527, Son of God, eternal Saviour
597, Take my life, and let it be
601, Teach me, my God and King
‘I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg’ (Luke 16: 3) … ‘Christ the Beggar’ … a sculpture by Timothy Schmalz on the steps of Santo Spirito Hospital near the Vatican (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org
Material from the Book of Common Prayer is copyright © 2004, Representative Body of the Church of Ireland.
The hymn suggestions are provided in Sing to the Word (2000), edited by Bishop Edward Darling. The hymn numbers refer to the Church of Ireland’s Church Hymnal (5th edition, Oxford: OUP, 2000)
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