Wednesday, September 24, 2025

Caveat emptor! Beware of those who promote a "compassionate" world without God

Fr. John Bustamante, in a weekly column in Assumption Grotto News (Sept. 21, 2025), wrote:
Some years ago at a major Ohio university, an elderly Jesuit priest who had long since retired from his formal teaching responsibilities used to spend his lunch hour in the main dining hall. He didn’t go there to eat; he went there to teach. He would sit down at any of the many tables that had an empty chair and start teaching. I suspect that many of the students who were familiar with this quintessentially Jesuit form of teaching likely kept a chair free hoping the Jesuit would join their table.

One day the Jesuit sat down at one of the tables and produced a small book from his pocket and said, “Here’s a book that was written for you about wisdom. Would you like to hear a few excerpts?” The students shrugged, “Why not? Maybe it will distract us from this plant and animal-based matter of unknown origin on our plates.” Each one-paragraph chapter was titled by a maxim such as, “Have naught to do with Occupations of Ill-repute” and “Be all Things to all Men” and “Have a Genial Disposition” and “Keep the extent of your Abilities unknown.” He read a few passages and after each passage looked around and said, “Sounds pretty good, doesn’t it?” Most everyone nodded. He read a few more excerpts to the agreement of all present. He then concluded, “Sounds like a worthwhile book, doesn’t it?” All agreed. He then read the title of the book: “The Art of Worldly Wisdom.” He said that this book is an excellent resource for the worldly elite. Every one of these maxims will serve a person of the world who applies them. The problem is that God is hardly mentioned at all. Morality is not even considered. The message of the Gospel is nowhere in its pages.

The book appeared 140 years after Machiavelli’s “The Prince” and it was clearly written for the elite already in the world—and often hopelessly so. On a superficial level the book simply gives advice on how to get ahead in the world. But what was so unusual about the book is that it was written by a Jesuit priest in the year 1653. He gave good worldly advice to the worldly but in every short chapter he left something very important unsaid.

The absence of all things Catholic made the book so controversial and yet so popular. Each maxim is wise, attractive and very effective even today. But its wisdom is at the expense of the message of the Gospel. There is barely a mention of God. There is nothing in its pages that benefit the poor. The omissions were meant to be as blaringly obvious as the practical advice.

The elderly Jesuit had presented the little book to a tableful of first-year university students just as the book’s author had intended it to be presented over three centuries earlier. It was a powerful one-sided lesson where a devil’s advocate sounds like a hero.

That is sort of what we hear in today’s parable. None of the characters in today’s Gospel story are virtuous: it’s simply a lesson that the worldly are more clever than the elect. Instead of the steward learning a tough lesson about being dishonest, he goes out and does more of the same. That’s the world’s answer to problems on an individual or societal level.

Today’s Gospel reading opens with the words, “A rich man had a steward…” We are not told that this is a parable. In fact, it is very likely not a parable any more than the Rich Man and Lazarus was a parable.

No, today's account is about someone who had been, shall we say, “industriously and cleverly prodigal” instead of just bold and stupidly prodigal. The dishonest steward did not exactly squander an inheritance that was unjustly asked for as the prodigal son did, but he behaved in the same way by dissipating his master's wealth. He was a prodigal who didn't like traveling and preferred to squander his master’s wealth from the comfort of his own home.

The rich man commended the dishonest steward because the world frequently praises here and now those who are dishonest and unjust. Human respect is like that, too. But God abhors what man finds worthy of praise (Luke 16:15). And the rich man symbolizes the worldly who isn't bothered by dishonesty even when his steward is stealing from him—it was an insignificant loss to the rich man and he commended the cleverness of the steward and probably still fired him.

But then our Lord says, “And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous mammon, so that when it fails they may receive you into the eternal habitations” (Luke 16:9). We are to use the wealth of the world that has been entrusted to us to do good, not evil. For this reason, St. Gregory calls the poor the “gatekeepers of heaven” as when we give alms we are reducing our own debt before God. St. John Chrysostom says, “Almsgiving is the most skillful of arts, for it does not build us houses of clay, but provides us with eternal life” (Lapide).

We are all unjust stewards in the eyes of God, since we have squandered so many gifts that the Lord has given us. But the Lord is teaching us to use honestly the things of the world to store up treasure in heaven.

Today’s Gospel reading ends with, “You cannot serve God and mammon.” But the very next verse which we don’t hear is connected: “The Pharisees, who loved money, heard all these things and sneered at him. And Jesus said to them, ‘You justify yourselves in the sight of others, but God knows your hearts; for what is of human esteem is an abomination in the sight of God’” (Luke 16:14-15). Cleverness will not get anyone into heaven.

Let us ask the Lord for what we need and let us use what we have been given as is most pleasing to God. May we not be students of Worldly Wisdom, but disciples of Divine Wisdom, Himself: our Lord Jesus Christ.