So, long, long ago I was a student at Georgia Tech. And while there, I was a member of a fraternity, which explains why I barely transferred out of there just a little bit ahead of my failing grades. Now I lived in the frat house, and I had a roommate. His name was Eddie, but because of his recreational drug habit everyone called him Coke Spoon.

This was a time when cocaine was on the upswing with up and coming yuppies, and Coke Spoon was a player. He was able to get his hands on any sort of drug you might want. But Coke Spoon didn't limit himself to just the drug side of crime. He was just a natural born criminal generalist. When given the choice between doing something honestly and doing something criminally, Coke Spoon would always choose the crime.

And here's the thing, he wasn't in it for the money or the power or because he was being blackmailed or whatever. He did it for the sheer joy of it. He was a criminal, yes, but that man was the most joyful criminal I think ever lived on this planet. He just delighted in it.

One year, it was time for our homecoming game, and we were playing Air Force. And the theme for the homecoming parade was the Middle Ages. Somehow, I had missed a frat meeting and found myself appointed float chairman, responsible for designing and completing my frat's homecoming float.

Well, we were all engineering students, so of course the floats had to be complicated extravaganzas with moving parts. And while the design was nice (a giant yellow jacket knight with a moving sword, stabbing an Air Force eagle), the fact is we needed a motor to make the thing work. And we couldn't find one.

And that's when Coke Spoon stepped up and said he'd be back in a little while. He went upstairs and changed into some workman's coveralls, came back down, grabbed our toolbox, and off he went, down the street, just as happy as could be. And in a couple of hours, he came back with a perfect motor. We asked where he got it, and he said, “Simple. I went to the laundromat, put an out of order sign on a washing machine, pulled it out, and took out the motor. Right in front of people sitting there doing their laundry.” He was so happy. He did what came naturally to him, and here we had just what we needed.

When homecoming was over, he took the motor back, put it back in, and removed the sign. Coke Spoon might have been a criminal, but he was an honest one.

I have no idea whatever happened to him. He's either a super rich mobster or sitting on death row. But whatever, I can still imagine him waking up every morning, just ready to meet the new day, with a smile on his face and a song in his heart.

Now I don't think Jesus is telling us to enter a life of crime in this parable. But I can't help but think a little of Eddie in this dishonest and shrewd manager.

Here we have Jesus telling us a pretty weird parable, and we have trouble with it, because it almost seems like he's praising some rather shifty behavior. We have this manager, the dishonest manager. He's been working for his master for quite a while. And given the economics of the times, he's probably putting the squeeze on the tenants, charging them a little extra, pocketing the difference. Making a living in a place where living is so hard. But there seems to have been some sort of downturn, a recession maybe, and he's found out (or probably the master always knew, but now times are tight and someone needs to be blamed.

So, the manager does what he does best. He wheels and he deals. “Tell you what, Aaron, give me half of what you owe, and we'll call it even. But Someday, and that day may never come, I’ll call upon you to do a service for me. But, until that day, accept this justice as a gift.” Ok, that last part is from the Godfather, but the thing is, he makes a friend who owes him a favor, and the master gets something when he could have ended up with nothing. And the tenant gets a break. Win-win-win.

So, I'm thinking about this all this the other day at a graveside funeral when we were reciting the Lord’s Prayer. As Episcopalians, our version of the prayer goes, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.' But the other version goes, “Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.”

Y'all, God is all over this parable, too. God is the one who has every right to be a harsh master, expecting us to live a righteous life, and Jesus is the manager, coming to us and saying, “Look, let's see what I can do to help make this work for you.” And the Holy Spirit smiles just a little bit when someone is forgiving, no matter the reason.

This parable is crazy fun! And remember, parables are not real-world. Jesus is making something up, exaggerating to make a point. It wouldn’t be worth remembering if he said, “There once was a land manager who did everything by the book and the landlord was happy. The end.” No, Jesus twists and turns to get under our skin.

But it's also serious what he’s doing. It’s NOT serious in that Jesus is telling us to become grifters…this country has enough of those already. It’s NOT serious in that Jesus is telling us to become mobsters and thugs, hurting people who are just trying to get by and live their lives as they see fit. We are enduring more than enough of that now to last a lifetime. It’s NOT serious in that Jesus is showing us role models in hypocritical, laws-for-thee-but-not-for-me behavior. We…well, you get the point.

It’s serious because, in this parable, the manager, by giving the tenant a break, allows the relationship between the master and the tenant to continue. If the debt is not forgiven, then the tenant is in default, and the master will throw him off the property, will cast him out. But the manager works out a deal...the manager IS the compromise. And the relationship between the master and the tenant is preserved. The relationship between God and us is preserved.

And Jesus lives out for us this very important lesson: sometimes you just have to bend human rules. Yes, God is perfect and we are sinful, and God will reject us. But with Jesus, our rules don't matter if they get in the way of God's rules. And God's rules are simple: love God and love your neighbor.

Sometimes you have to stand up in the face of authority, even when authority says you can't. Sometimes you have to march against injustice, even when authority beats you down. And sometimes you have to speak out, even when authority command you to be silent. Because, through Jesus, God bends those rules. God bends the rules so that justice is in reach, fear is abated, and love is abundant.

And like my friend Eddie, because of this, we can wake up each day, facing what is to come with joy. Not a false feeling of assurance that we will come out on the other end unscathed, but a joy that comes from knowing that God is on our side, that Jesus loves us enough to go with us, and bind us up and bind us together. Our debt is forgiven. Pay it forward.

That's what being here in this church is all about. That's why we give. That's why we give. That's why we come here to worship and sing and pray and love. That's why we recharge our soul batteries here at this altar. That's why we go out from here, into the world, holding each other accountable, but always ready to forgive. Passing that love of forgiveness, that love of redemption on to everyone we meet. Because God our Father...our God father...is calling in that favor, the favor to love others as God loves us.

And that's a debt we should repay. Joyfully and fully.

Amen.