Smarter Than We Act
I had a property manager.
For a long time, I trusted him with everything: the leases, the accounts, the rent.
But then I started hearing things. Tenants were whispering that he was cutting corners. Bills were coming in late. Money didn’t quite add up.
So I called him into my office.
“Look,” I said, “I’ve been hearing some troubling reports. You’ve been careless with what I put in your hands. I can’t keep you on like this. Bring me the books. Your job is over.”
He stood there for a moment, stunned.
“Are you serious?” he asked.
“You know I am,” I said. “This can’t go on. I need the accounts settled, and then you’re done here.”
He didn’t argue. He just nodded. But I could see it in his face. His mind was already spinning, already working an angle.
And that’s when he went to the tenants.
He pulled one aside.
“How much do you owe?” he asked.
“Six months’ rent.”
“Make it three,” he said. “Sign it now.”
Another came in.
“How much do you owe?”
“A year’s rent.”
“Make it eight months.”
One by one, he slashed their bills. Not because it was fair. Not because it was right. But because he knew he was out of work, and he needed friends who would owe him later.
Now, before you think this really happened to me, let me be clear: it didn’t. This is one of Jesus’ stories. He called them parables. A parable is a teaching story, the kind that gets under your skin. The details are strange on purpose. The point is not that it happened, but that it makes you stop and wonder what it means for you.
Here’s how Luke’s Gospel tells it:
Luke 16:1–13 (CEB)
Jesus also said to the disciples, “A certain rich man heard that his household manager was wasting his estate.
He called the manager in and said to him, ‘What is this I hear about you? Give me a report of your administration because you can’t be my manager any longer.’
The household manager said to himself, ‘What will I do now that my master is firing me as manager? I’m not strong enough to dig, and I’m too proud to beg.
I know what I’ll do so that, when I am removed from my management position, people will welcome me into their houses.’
One by one, the manager sent for each person who owed his master money. He said to the first, ‘How much do you owe my master?’
He said, ‘Nine hundred gallons of olive oil.’ The manager said to him, ‘Take your contract, sit down quickly, and write four hundred fifty gallons.’
Then the manager said to another, ‘How much do you owe?’ He said, ‘One thousand bushels of wheat.’ He said, ‘Take your contract and write eight hundred.’
The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted cleverly. People who belong to this world are more clever in dealing with their peers than are people who belong to the light.
I tell you, use worldly wealth to make friends for yourselves so that when it’s gone, you will be welcomed into the eternal homes.
Whoever is faithful with little is also faithful with much, and whoever is dishonest with little is also dishonest with much.
If you haven’t been faithful with worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches?
If you haven’t been faithful with someone else’s property, who will give you your own?
No household servant can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be loyal to the one and have contempt for the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.”
It is one of the strangest stories Jesus ever told, in my opinion. The landlord praises the manager, not for honesty, but for cleverness. For acting quickly. For being strategic.
And Jesus uses this twist to make a surprising point: people outside the faith are often more deliberate and strategic with money than people who claim to live by faith.
Think about it. We know how deliberate people can be with money. Business leaders study markets, watch trends, and move billions of dollars with careful planning.
Ask my husband how long it took him to buy a new car.
Years. It took years.
Even when we bought a carpet cleaner, we checked Consumer Reports and Wirecutter before making the decision.
We know how to be deliberate when something matters to us. We know how to be strategic when it comes to our well-being, our comfort, or our security. But do we bring that same intentionality to the other parts of life that matter? Are we smarter than we act?
Here’s where the parable cuts deep. Too often, we drift. We scroll through hours of social media without noticing how much attention we give away. We spend money without pausing to ask if it reflects what we value. Those subscriptions just renew on their own. We say yes to one more meeting or commitment, even though it steals the time we need for rest or relationships. We let resentment or worry eat up energy we could be giving to something better. We are really so much smarter than we act.
But Jesus’ story challenges us to stop drifting. It calls us to be deliberate. To be wise. To be strategic.
And here’s where a voice outside scripture helped me hear the lesson more clearly. I was listening to a podcast and Taylor Swift said something that stopped me in my tracks:
“You should think of your energy as if it’s expensive, as if it’s a luxury item. Not everyone can afford it. Not everyone has invested in you in order to be able to have the capital for you to care about this.”
She was talking about boundaries, but I hear the same wisdom in Jesus’ parable. Your energy matters. Your attention matters. Your money matters. Your time matters.
These are powerful, limited resources. And all of them can either control us or be used strategically for what matters most.
So what if we took that seriously?
What if we were as strategic about generosity as we are about investments?
What if we planned carefully to make sure our money lifted up the poor, strengthened community, and built peace in the world?
What if we guarded our attention the way we guard our bank accounts, refusing to waste it on resentment or slander, but choosing to give it where it bears fruit?
What if we invested our energy as if it were precious, because it is?
That is the challenge of this story. To stop drifting. To stop being casual with the gifts we have been given. And to live strategically.
Strategic with our prayers.
Strategic with our time.
Strategic with our attention.
Strategic with our money.
Strategic with our whole lives, so that everything we are and everything we have serves what matters most.
We need to start acting as smart with what really matters.
I regularly use AI to help edit and enhance my posts. This post was aided by AI for editing. As always, the content and meaningful engagement with scripture are mine.
