The Parable of the Unjust Steward (Luke 16:1-13)

Few of Jesus’ stories unsettle us like the parable of the unjust steward. At first hearing it sounds upside down: a manager wastes his master’s goods, scrambles to save himself by slashing bills, and somehow receives commendation. Yet Jesus never praises sin; He uses a crooked man to teach straight truth. When we listen closely to the words as Luke sets them — immediately after the prodigal’s squander and the father’s mercy, with Pharisees sneering nearby — we hear a bracing call to wise foresight, faithful accountability, and undivided allegiance (Luke 15:11–32; Luke 16:1–2; Luke 16:14–15). Jesus presses a hard question into soft places: what master do we truly serve, and what are we doing now with what will not last (Luke 16:13)?

Luke tells us Jesus “said to his disciples,” which makes this teaching family talk for followers, even as others listen in and reveal their hearts by their reactions (Luke 16:1; Luke 16:14). The story turns on two moments: the steward’s coming audit — “give an account of your management” — and his quick, calculating response to the short window before dismissal (Luke 16:2–4). The Master’s verdict at the end frames the whole: shrewdness regarding the future is commendable when used for what is right, and wealth is a test that reveals whether we can be trusted with true riches (Luke 16:8–11). Through this lens, the paradox resolves, and the point cuts clean.

Words: 3153 / Time to read: 17 minutes

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Historical and Cultural Background

In the first century, great estates were often run by stewards who managed leases, crops, and accounts for an absentee owner. A steward had real authority but only as a representative, and he would be expected to keep accurate records and protect the owner’s interests. When word reached the owner that his steward was “wasting his possessions,” the summons came swiftly: “What is this I hear about you? Give an account of your management, because you cannot be manager any longer” (Luke 16:1–2). That line matters. Stewardship means answering for another’s goods at another’s time, which is why Scripture repeatedly ties stewardship to faithfulness and accountability before God (1 Corinthians 4:2; Romans 14:12).

The debts mentioned fit the agricultural economy of Galilee and Judea. One debtor owes a hundred measures of olive oil, another a hundred measures of wheat — amounts that reflect large commercial contracts, not household loans (Luke 16:6–7). In that world, landlords sometimes took payment in kind, and contracts could include markups or interest. The Law warned Israel against predatory lending among brothers and forbade usury that crushed the poor, which explains why some interpreters suggest the steward removed illegal interest or his own commission (Exodus 22:25; Deuteronomy 23:19–20). Luke does not spell out the mechanism, and Jesus does not hinge the lesson on the technicalities. The steward is plainly “dishonest,” yet the master praises a specific trait: his shrewdness — his practical wisdom about an imminent change — not his ethics (Luke 16:8).

The social backdrop also sharpens the story’s edge. Honor and reciprocity shaped village life. If a powerful man’s agent acted to reduce your burden, you were obligated to show gratitude. The steward banks on that code, aiming to secure hospitality once he is dismissed: “so that people will welcome me into their houses” (Luke 16:4). Jesus lifts that familiar move and uses it to teach disciples how to handle money in light of eternity: “use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings” (Luke 16:9). The contrast is intentional: temporary houses for a dismissed manager; everlasting homes for those who invest God’s money in God’s work.

Biblical Narrative

The story opens with a crisis. A report reaches a rich man: his steward is wasting resources. The order follows, terse and final: “Give an account… you cannot be manager any longer” (Luke 16:2). The steward’s inner monologue exposes his options. He is not strong enough to dig and ashamed to beg. He needs a plan that turns today’s authority into tomorrow’s welcome. So he calls in debtors one by one. “How much do you owe?” he asks. “Nine hundred gallons of olive oil,” one replies. “Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it four hundred and fifty.” Another owes a thousand bushels of wheat. “Take your bill and make it eight hundred” (Luke 16:5–7). Each reduction creates a debtor to himself, and each signature builds a network of future shelter.

Then comes the surprise. “The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly” (Luke 16:8). He does not applaud theft; he recognizes foresight. Jesus draws the moral right away: “For the people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light” (Luke 16:8). Those who live for this age often plan better for tomorrow’s paycheck than God’s children plan for the world to come. Jesus refuses to leave that contrast in the air. He gives a directive: “I tell you, use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings” (Luke 16:9). Money will fail; eternity will not. Therefore spend money now in ways that will be remembered there.

Jesus then steps from the parable to general principles. “Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much,” He says, and the reverse is also true (Luke 16:10). Earthly wealth is “very little” and even “worldly wealth,” literally unrighteous mammon, not because money is evil in substance but because it belongs to a passing order easily bent toward sin when it masters the heart (Luke 16:11). Faithfulness with money is the proving ground for “true riches,” the spiritual responsibilities and joys God delights to give to trustworthy servants (Luke 16:11). If we are not faithful with what belongs to another — and everything we hold is God’s — why would God “give you property of your own” in the world to come (Luke 16:12; Psalm 24:1)?

The teaching ends with a sentence that brooks no middle: “No one can serve two masters… You cannot serve both God and money” (Luke 16:13). The Pharisees, lovers of money, sneer when they hear this, and Jesus answers by exposing the heart He sees: “What people value highly is detestable in God’s sight” when it usurps God’s place (Luke 16:14–15). The parable thus sits inside a larger confrontation about allegiance. A steward’s ledger reveals his true lord as surely as his lips. What we pursue, protect, and plan for reveals who rules us.

Theological Significance

At its core the parable is about stewardship — managing what God entrusts to us — under the gaze of a returning Owner. From Genesis onward, God places people in His world as stewards who cultivate, guard, and return to Him what is due (Genesis 2:15; Psalm 24:1). Jesus intensifies that theme. He tells of a coming audit — “give an account” — and demands that His followers think and act now in light of that day (Luke 16:2; Romans 14:12). The unjust steward’s shrewdness is narrowly applauded because it mirrors one thing disciples must learn: use today’s fleeting position to secure tomorrow’s welcome. The difference lies in motive and method. The steward manipulates bills to curry human favor; disciples invest resources to serve God’s mission and bless people in ways that echo into eternity (Luke 16:9; 1 Timothy 6:17–19).

Jesus’ label for money as “worldly wealth” signals its nature. Wealth belongs to a system marked by sin, scarcity, and status, and it can easily become a rival master when we lean on it for identity or security (Luke 16:11; Matthew 6:24). Yet Jesus does not command withdrawal from money; He charges wise use. “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth,” He says elsewhere, not because saving is always wrong but because hoarding for self is insane when moth and rust rule here and thieves break in (Matthew 6:19–21). In the same Sermon He calls for giving, secrecy in charity, and freedom from anxiety as hallmarks of Kingdom life (Matthew 6:2–4; Matthew 6:25–33). Luke’s wording — “use wealth to gain friends… so that when it is gone you will be welcomed” — harmonizes with Paul’s counsel: be rich in good deeds, generous and willing to share, laying up treasure for the coming age (Luke 16:9; 1 Timothy 6:18–19).

From a dispensational reading — God unfolds His plan in stages — the parable also has a national edge. Israel was entrusted with the covenants, the law, the temple service, and the promises, a stewardship that should have produced justice, mercy, and the fear of the Lord (Romans 3:1–2; Micah 6:8). By Jesus’ day many leaders had twisted that trust into personal advantage and public show, provoking the Lord who said, “This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me” (Mark 7:6). The steward’s impending dismissal pictures the accountability falling on those leaders as the Kingdom offer was resisted and judgment neared (Luke 19:41–44). Yet God also preserves a remnant — faithful few God preserves — and extends His saving purpose to the nations while promising a future restoration for Israel in keeping with His covenant love (Romans 11:5; Romans 11:25–29).

That forward look includes days of pressure. During the Tribulation — future worldwide distress before Christ’s reign — urgency will intensify. Jesus speaks of a time when lawlessness increases and love grows cold, yet the gospel of the kingdom will be proclaimed and those who endure to the end will be saved (Matthew 24:12–14). In such an hour the call to shrewd, faithful handling of what God entrusts will be critical for those who hear the witnesses God raises and align with His purposes despite loss (Revelation 7:3–8; Revelation 11:3–6). Even then the dividing line will hold: some will cling to wealth and security that cannot save; others will cast themselves on the King and spend what they have for His name.

The parable also points to the judgment seat of Christ — Christ evaluates believers’ works — where saved people’s deeds are tested, reward is given for what endures, and loss is felt where work was empty, though the person is saved through Christ alone (2 Corinthians 5:10; 1 Corinthians 3:12–15). Jesus’ promise of “true riches” and “property of your own” aligns with the broader biblical picture of future responsibility under the Messiah’s reign, where faithful servants will be entrusted with joyful work in a world made new (Luke 16:11–12; Luke 19:17; Revelation 22:3–5). The unjust steward is not our model; his urgency is. We do not imitate his methods; we surpass his foresight by aiming for eternal dwellings rather than temporary couches (Luke 16:4; Luke 16:9).

Spiritual Lessons and Application

The first lesson is urgency with clarity. The steward acts because his time is short. Jesus uses his speed to shame our drift. Money is passing through our fingers, and one day soon it will be gone or we will be gone. “Teach us to number our days,” Moses prayed, “that we may gain a heart of wisdom” (Psalm 90:12). Jesus translates that prayer into a plan: use what you cannot keep to bless those you cannot save, support the work you cannot do alone, and strengthen the church you will live with forever (Luke 16:9; Philippians 4:14–17). When you fund gospel witness, care for the poor, relieve the burden of a widow, or underwrite a missionary’s rent, you are not buying heaven; you are investing in love that God remembers and rewards (Hebrews 6:10; Matthew 10:42).

The second lesson is faithfulness in small things. Jesus calls money “very little” and then says our handling of it determines whether we can be trusted with “much” in His economy (Luke 16:10–11). That flips our scales. We tend to treat money as weighty and prayer as light; Jesus does the reverse. In practice, faithfulness looks like honest books, prompt payment, open-handed giving, and a life free from the love of money because God Himself has said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5). It looks like budgeting to bless rather than merely to build barns, because Jesus already warned that the soul of the man in love with surplus is at risk even as his storage grows (Luke 12:15–21). It looks like tithing or purposeful generosity not as a tax but as training for the heart to treasure God more than gold (Proverbs 3:9; 2 Corinthians 9:6–8).

The third lesson is honesty about masters. Jesus ends where every heart must end: “You cannot serve both God and money” (Luke 16:13). We will love one and despise the other. That does not mean every paycheck is a problem. It means every paycheck is a probe. Does money dictate our decisions, define our worth, and dominate our imagination, or does God’s kingdom set our course while money takes its rightful place as a tool? The test comes quietly. Do we fudge to get ahead? Do we underpay those who labor for us? Do we say we cannot afford to give even as we upgrade? James cries against hoarded wages and rotting riches not because wealth itself rots the soul, but because injustice and indulgence reveal a heart that has chosen the wrong lord (James 5:1–5). Jesus offers an easier yoke but never a divided one (Matthew 11:28–30).

The fourth lesson is foresight with compassion. “Make friends by means of worldly wealth,” Jesus says, and in His ministry that looked like feeding the hungry, welcoming children, dignifying widows, and proclaiming good news to the poor (Luke 16:9; Luke 4:18–19; Luke 7:22). For us it looks like the same. It means using influence and income to open doors for the gospel in our neighborhoods and among the nations, knowing that we may one day meet in glory those whom our giving helped reach. It means refusing the cynicism that says generosity changes nothing, because Jesus says it prepares welcomes we cannot now imagine (Luke 16:9; Galatians 6:9–10). It means doing justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with God in how we hire, spend, save, tip, and forgive debts where we can without enabling harm (Micah 6:8; Matthew 6:12).

The fifth lesson is accountability with hope. “Give an account,” the master says, and some of us feel only dread at that line (Luke 16:2). Jesus answers that dread with the cross that pays our debt and the Spirit who helps our weakness (Colossians 2:13–14; Romans 8:26–27). We do not purchase eternal dwellings; the Lamb does. Yet He invites us to bring offerings of love that will meet us there (Revelation 5:9–10; Matthew 6:20). If your past with money shames you, repentance is the first investment. Zacchaeus met Jesus, repented, repaid, and found salvation had come to his house, proof that God’s grace can rewire a heart and redirect a ledger in a day (Luke 19:8–9). Start where you are. Make a plan. Ask God for wisdom, and He will give it generously (James 1:5). Then keep going, week by week, month by month, rejoicing that every seed sown in the Spirit will bear fruit in due time (Galatians 6:7–9).

The sixth lesson is for Israel and for all. To leaders who loved money and scoffed at Jesus, the parable warned that stewardship would be removed and judgment would fall, even as mercy still stood in front of them calling them home (Luke 16:14–15; Luke 19:41–44). To the church gathered from Jew and Gentile, it sets the tone for this age: make disciples, steward grace, and keep your heart free from idols because you are not your own; you were bought at a price (Matthew 28:19–20; 1 Corinthians 6:19–20). To the remnant who will believe under pressure in days yet to come, it says what Jesus always says: act now in loyalty to the true King, spend your life for Him, and you will be welcomed when He reigns (Matthew 24:13; Revelation 20:4–6).

Conclusion

The unjust steward is not a hero to copy. He is a mirror that reveals whether we see what time it is and whom we serve. Jesus takes the steward’s urgency and turns it toward heaven. He tells us plainly that money will fail, that an account is coming, and that only one Master deserves our love (Luke 16:9; Luke 16:2; Luke 16:13). He does not ask us to be crafty; He asks us to be wise. He does not call us to secure couches for tomorrow; He calls us to send on ahead love that cannot be stolen (Matthew 6:20; 1 Timothy 6:19). He does not shame us for having resources; He summons us to use them to bless, rescue, and strengthen in His name, trusting that the God who sees in secret will repay with joy (Matthew 6:4; Luke 14:13–14).

Stand, then, where the steward stood, but hear a better voice. Your Lord says, “Give an account,” and then hands you today as a fresh trust (Luke 16:2; Psalm 118:24). He reminds you that “a person’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions,” and He invites you to love Him with all your heart and your neighbor as yourself, which money can serve but never supplant (Luke 12:15; Matthew 22:37–39). Choose your master. Make your plan. Open your hands. Spend your little for His much. And look forward to the welcome of friends you have yet to meet in houses you have yet to see, built by grace and filled with praise to the King who became poor to make many rich (Luke 16:9; 2 Corinthians 8:9).

“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. So if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches?… 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.” (Luke 16:10–13)

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Want to Go Deeper?
This post draws from my book, The Parables of Jesus: Covert Communication from the King (Grace and Knowledge Series, Book 7), where each parable is explored in its prophetic, dispensational, and theological depth.

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