“Who is a faithful, sensible steward, to whom the master can give the responsibility
of managing his household and feeding his family?” (Matthew 24:45)
Years ago, churches used to have “Stewardship Campaigns.” Remember those? Some churches would run one every year. The pastor preached a series of sermons on giving, which usually climaxed on Pledge Sunday. But that’s not the stewardship on my mind right now.
If you can read this blog post (and if I can write it) then we have various resources that much of the world does not have: time, education, and electronic access.
Almost half the world—over three billion people (9 times the population of the USA)—live on less than $2.50 a day, while at least 80% of humanity lives on less than $10 a day.
What does it mean for me to be a faithful, sensible steward, whom the Master can trust?
Barely a day goes by without gratitude on my part. I live in a great house, have an amazing family, never miss a meal unless I choose to, drive a reliable car, and love my work. “Dumb luck,” some would say. “Fruit of hard work,” others might suggest. “Undeserved favor,” I might conclude. But I’m missing something.
The issue is not “How did I get all of this?“ but “What will I do with all of this?“
It’s relatively easy to accumulate resources, if we’re born into wealth and opportunity – the top 20% of the world who make more than $10 a day – but stewardship stretches us. It demands that we look at the big picture and expend ourselves in ways that honor both the gifts and the Giver.
I suspect that anyone with our level of privilege and opportunity has a stewardship responsibility; to oppose injustice, to advocate for the helpless, to support the weak and the wounded, to build infrastructure for communities, and to offer leadership to the world. Stewardship requires that we break our routines, step beyond our own dreams and plans, and manage what we have for “the least of these.”
It’s not about our success or significance. It has nothing to do with finding our purpose or feeling fulfilled. We might define stewardship as simple, raw obedience to the Master who “so loves the world.”
Does Jesus’ question merely provoke a form of survivor’s guilt within us? Or might stewardship form the basis of the Kingdom of God in this world; a Kingdom committed to deliver justice where oppression reigns, hope where despair has taken root, and light where darkness prevails.
“Who is a faithful, sensible steward, to whom the master can give the responsibility of managing his household and feeding his family?” (Matthew 24:45)