Dock Resource Kit
Sunday sermon, 15 February 2026
Summary
Phil continued our Upside Down Kingdom Series on Jesus’ parables in Luke by exploring the unsettling story of the shrewd manager in Luke 16, calling us to live like eternity is real. He shows how Jesus reframes money as a discipleship issue rather than an economic one, moving from accountability to urgency to generous stewardship. The challenge is to live as stewards not owners, using worldly wealth for eternal good and recognising that money reveals where our loyalty truly lies. The call is not to fear or idolise money, but to serve Christ alone and live open-handed lives shaped by the coming kingdom.
Key Points & Takeways
We are stewards, not owners
Everything entrusted to us, including money, time and gifts, will one day be accounted for before God.
Jesus praises urgency, not dishonesty
The shrewd manager is commended for acting decisively in light of the future. Disciples are called to live with similar spiritual alertness.
Money is a tool for eternal purposes
Wealth is temporary but can be used to bless others, support mission, and build relationships that carry eternal significance.
Money reveals allegiance
Faithfulness is not about amount but about loyalty. The real question is not how much we have but whom we serve.
Money is a rival master
It promises security and control but demands more and never satisfies. Only Jesus offers true freedom.
Generosity flows from security in Christ
Because our future is secure in Jesus, we are free to live open-handed, joyful, kingdom-shaped lives.
Dock Discussion Questions
Jesus says we are stewards, not owners. How does that challenge the way you normally think about your money, possessions or time?
The dishonest manager acts urgently because he knows the future is coming. What might it look like to live with that same spiritual urgency today?
Where do you see the tension between serving God and serving money in everyday life, especially in a context like East London?
What practical, concrete step could you take this week to use your resources in a way that reflects eternal priorities rather than temporary security?
Long-form, edited transcript
Upside Down Kingdom –
Live Like Eternity Is Real
Luke 16:1–15
2 Corinthians 5:1–10
We are in Luke’s gospel working through some of Jesus parables that we find in chapters 15–18.
Today we’re in chapter 16 and we get to think about money and how we live and steward our resources, which is something Jesus had a great deal to say about.
Luke 16:1–15
The parable of the shrewd manager
16 Jesus told his disciples: ‘There was a rich man whose manager was accused of wasting his possessions. 2 So he called him in and asked him, “What is this I hear about you? Give an account of your management, because you cannot be manager any longer.”
3 ‘The manager said to himself, “What shall I do now? My master is taking away my job. I’m not strong enough to dig, and I’m ashamed to beg – 4 I know what I’ll do so that, when I lose my job here, people will welcome me into their houses.”
5 ‘So he called in each one of his master’s debtors. He asked the first, “How much do you owe my master?”
6 ‘“Three thousand litres of olive oil,” he replied.
‘The manager told him, “Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it fifteen hundred.”
7 ‘Then he asked the second, “And how much do you owe?”
‘“Thirty tons of wheat,” he replied.
‘He told him, “Take your bill and make it twenty-four.”
8 ‘The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly. For the people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light. 9 I tell you, use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.
10 ‘Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much. 11 So if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches? 12 And if you have not been trustworthy with someone else’s property, who will give you property of your own?
13 ‘No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money.’
14 The Pharisees, who loved money, heard all this and were sneering at Jesus. 15 He said to them, ‘You are the ones who justify yourselves in the eyes of others, but God knows your hearts. What people value highly is detestable in God’s sight.
Of course this is a part of town where talk of money is never far away, is it? In fact if your media feeds are anything like mine it seems like a conversation that’s continually bubbling away in my pocket. Whether that’s the markets and investing, housing, the cost of living, how close we are to the £5 takeaway coffee (perhaps you’ve already had a few of those), or just the deep inequalities that shape everyday life in the city.
In this borough, Tower Hamlets, you can walk from some of the most deprived neighbourhoods in the country to the business centres in Canary Wharf in a matter of minutes. You can go from food banks to five-star foyers. From families counting every pound to global institutions moving billions around the world.
And it’s right into this world of complexity that Jesus speaks in Luke 16.
There are several strands of thought going on here, so I’d like us to carefully walk through this passage together.
Universal Scrutiny
Let’s start with the first couple of verses.
Jesus tells his disciples that there was a rich man whose manager was accused of wasting his possessions. The rich man calls him in and says: what is this that I hear about you? Give an account of your management. In fact, you’re done. You can’t be manager any longer.
It’s an auditing nightmare. It’s the email you never want to receive. And in a place like London, we know this world well. We know the language of performance, targets, outcomes, and reviews.
So the story begins with a man who’s been careless. Or corrupt. Or both. And the master says: bring me the accounts.
Before we get too far, we have to name again something important. This is a parable. Jesus isn’t just telling a story about a dodgy employee. He’s telling a story about every one of us. Because whether we like it or not, we are all stewards. We’re managers, not owners. Entrusted, not entitled, with time, energy, relationships, gifts, opportunities, and money.
One day, the Bible says, we will give an account. Not because God is petty, or looking to catch us out, but because God is holy, your life matters, and what you do with what you’ve been given matters.
This isn’t meant to terrify us if we’re with Jesus, but it is meant to wake us up. Because one of the easiest ways to spiritually sleepwalk through life is to assume that the things we have are ours, and that the way we use them is private, and that there will be, or certainly should be, no questions asked. Jesus says: there will be questions asked. A time is coming when the master will say, submit your account.
Or, in the words of Paul to the church in Corinth, we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each of us may receive what is due us for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad.
The Shock of Shrewdness
So this is a sobering parable. And it demands careful reading, because at first glance it sounds like Jesus is letting the bad guy win.
The manager realises he’s about to lose his job. He knows he’s in trouble, and he knows he’s not going to land on his feet easily. I’m not strong enough to dig, I’m ashamed to beg, he says. He knows the clock is ticking.
So he comes up with a plan, and he starts calling in his master’s debtors one by one. He asks them what they owe, and he reduces their bills. One owes three thousand litres of oil. He says, take your bill and write fifteen hundred. That’s a big discount there. Another owes thirty tons of wheat. He says, take your bill and make it twenty-four. Not quite as big a discount.
At this point we’re all thinking: this guy is unbelievable. He’s literally scamming the books on the way out.
And then comes the moment none of us expect. Verse 8: The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly. When you first read this you’d be forgiven for reading, the master condemned the dishonest manager. But no, it all feels upside down. You expect the master to say, you’ve robbed me twice. But instead, he commends him.
No doubt everyone listening to Jesus was leaning in at this point.
But of course, this isn’t just a story about a dodgy employee. Jesus has a bigger, more challenging point to make, one that impacts everyone who hears him.
So we need to be really clear here. This isn’t about the managers ethics. The master is not praising his integrity. He’s praising his intensity.
He commends his shrewdness, his urgency, the fact that he’s finally woken up and acted decisively in light of what’s coming. In effect, the master is saying: I can’t approve of what you’ve done, but I can’t ignore how alert you’ve been. You saw the future, and you moved fast.
And Jesus then makes the point explicit. The people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light.
In other words, people who don’t believe in eternity can sometimes take the future more seriously than people who do. The manager may be corrupt, but he’s not asleep.
And Jesus says to his disciples: wake up.
And it’s worth noticing the theological tension Jesus is deliberately holding here. The tension between God’s sovereignty and our stewardship. Between election and effort. Between trusting that God holds the future, and taking responsibility for how we live in the present.
This parable doesn’t deny God’s sovereignty for a moment. The master is still the master. The future is still secure. But Jesus refuses the idea that confidence in God’s purposes should lead to passivity. Knowing that God is sovereign is never meant to make us sleepy.
So the question isn’t, should we copy the manager’s dishonesty? The question is, do we share his urgency?
Do we live like time is short and an audit is coming?
Do we live like eternity is real?
The manager realises, what I do now shapes what comes next. And Jesus looks at his disciples and says: Yes. Exactly.
Worldly Wealth for Eternal Good
Verse 9 is where Jesus turns the story directly toward us. I tell you, he says, use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.
That phrase, worldly wealth, or in some translations unrighteous wealth, is not Jesus saying that money is evil in itself. But he is acknowledging that money belongs to this fallen world. It’s wrapped up with injustice, inequality, and greed. But even in a broken world, money can be used for something beautiful.
He says, use worldly wealth to gain friends.
Not to buy friends.
Not to bribe people.
But to bless people.
Use what you have to love people.
Use what you have to serve people.
Use what you have in this world to build relationships that lead to eternity.
Because money will fail. Wealth will fail. Markets will fail. Careers will fail. Health will fail. The things of this world that we trust will fail. They will be gone.
But there is an eternal dwelling, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. Jesus is saying, live now in light of then.
Live not just by what you can see, but by faith in what God has promised.
This is so counter-cultural.
It was when Jesus first said it, and it is now.
Our world says, use money to secure your homely comfort. Jesus says, use money to secure your heavenly calling.
Our world says, use money to build your lifestyle. Jesus says, use money to build the kingdom.
Our world says, use money to impress. Jesus says, use money to bless.
Pete Greig reflects helpfully on this in his book Dirty Glory. He writes:
Money is designed to move around, to flow dynamically between people, whether through a monthly wage, a commercial exchange, or in the form of a gift.
Money loses its purpose as a catalyst for creative exchange when it is allowed to stagnate, merely accruing interest in a bank or becoming a number on a screen.
I think that’s exactly what Jesus is getting at here. Money can be a catalyst for creativity. Money is meant to be a means, not an end.
A channel, not a container. Something that flows through our lives for God’s purposes,
not something we store up and cling to as if it were our security.
And so what does it look like in practice?
It looks like open-handed generosity. It looks like supporting gospel work. Funding mission. Caring for the poor. Hospitality. It looks like giving in ways that make no sense unless eternity is real.
The challenge is: are you more serious about investing for your retirement, or for your resurrection?
I think Jesus is saying that when you get to glory, you’ll meet people who are there partly because, by the grace of God, you were generous on earth. Not because you saved them, only Jesus saves. But because your money helped the gospel go out. Your wealth helped a church plant happen. Your resources helped someone get discipled, or helped God’s love transform a community. Your generous, and shrewd, stewardship helped a family survive a crisis and helped someone encounter the power of God.
Make friends now. Use worldly wealth for eternal relationships. Because one day money will be gone, but the people you bless and befriend will be with Christ forever.
Diagnostic for the Heart
Before we go any further, it’s worth pausing to name what Jesus has already done in this parable, because it is complex, needs careful reading, and it hits hard.
Jesus has taken us on a journey. He begins with accountability. A life entrusted. An account demanded. Then he moves us to urgency. A manager who suddenly realises time is short and acts decisively in light of the future. And then Jesus redirects our thinking about money altogether, not as something to cling to, but as something to be used, shrewdly and generously, for eternal good.
As Jesus goes on, he tightens the focus. He moves from story to diagnosis. He connects money with character and shows us that money is never neutral. In fact, money is a diagnostic for our hearts.
Verse 10, Jesus makes clear he isn’t focused on amount. He’s focused on allegiance. Faithfulness isn’t measured by how much you have, but by how you hold what you’ve been given.
And money becomes a training ground, a test case. If we can’t be trusted with what’s temporary, why would God entrust us with what’s eternal?
And then Jesus presses the point home. Verse 12: If you’ve not been faithful with what belongs to another, who will give you what is your own?
A question that dismantles our instinctive assumption of ownership. We say, this is my money, my income, my savings, my house, my pension.
Jesus says, no. You are a steward.
Everything you hold has been entrusted to you by another. And where there is stewardship, there is always accountability.
At this point Jesus makes it unmistakably clear: No one can serve two masters.
You cannot serve both God and money.
Notice what Jesus doesn’t say. He doesn’t say you must not have money. He doesn’t say money is evil. He says you can’t serve it.
Because money is a rival master that promises security, comfort, control, and freedom, but can’t deliver. Instead it is cruel and demanding. It never says, that’s enough.
It always asks for more. More work. More compromise. More anxiety. More fear.
Which is why Jesus doesn’t soften this.
You can’t split your loyalty. In the end, one master will win.
And Luke tells us how the Pharisees respond. They ridicule Jesus. Why? Because they loved money. They were religious. Respected. Orthodox. And still ruled by something else.
It is possible to look faithful and sound godly while quietly serving another master. It’s possible to be respectable and religious and still be captive to money.
And Jesus then says something deeply unsettling: You justify yourselves in the eyes of others, but God knows your hearts. What is highly valued among people is detestable in God’s sight.
So what does this mean for us?
It means money asks us honest questions.
Like, what do I trust when I feel anxious? What do I lean on when what is seen and temporary starts to feel fragile? What do I fear losing most? What do I think will finally make me safe or successful? Those questions reveal our master.
And the invitation here is not shame, but clarity. Jesus is not trying to trap us. He is trying to free us. He is the only master who does not exploit his servants. He laid aside his wealth and strength, took our place, and bore our debt, so that we could live free, forgiven, unburdened lives of trust and generosity.
So the call is simple. Choose your master.
Be faithful with what you’ve been given. Hold money lightly. Use it wisely. Let it serve the kingdom rather than rule your heart.
Money makes a terrible master, but a powerful servant when Jesus is Lord. Generosity becomes joy, faithfulness becomes freedom, and our lives begin to reflect the values of the kingdom we truly belong to.
A Final Word and Prayer
So as we finish, Luke 16 leaves us with a clear and searching invitation: to live like eternity is real.
Jesus has shown us that our lives are marked by accountability. What we have has been entrusted to us, and one day we will give an account.
He has pressed us with urgency. Time is short, and what we do now really matters.
And he has called us to shrewd, wise living: using what we have now in light of the future God has promised.
It’s not about fearing money, or idolising money, but about putting it back in its proper place. Seeing it for what it is. A tool. A test. A servant. Never a master.
Jesus calls us to live awake. Awake to the fact that our lives matter and that faithfulness now shapes what comes later. Awake to the reality that our choices echo into eternity, because what is mortal will one day be swallowed up by life.
If that’s true, then the question Jesus leaves us with is not, how much do you have?
It’s not even simply, how do you live?
It’s, who do you serve?
And the good news is this. The master Jesus calls us to serve is not harsh or demanding. He is generous and kind. He does not take from us. He gives himself for us. He became poor for our sake, so that in him we might become rich. And because our future is secure in him, we are free to live open-handed lives in the present.
May God give us eyes fixed on eternity, hearts loyal to Christ alone, and lives marked by faithful, generous obedience.
Let’s pray.
Jesus, you see our hearts.
You know what we trust,
what we cling to, what we fear.
Help us to live awake to eternity.
Shape us to be faithful stewards,
wise with what you’ve entrusted to us,
and generous for the sake of your kingdom.
Free us from serving anything other than you,
and let our lives reflect the hope of the world to come.
Amen.