Sermon for the Twenty-Fourth Sunday after Pentecost – November 19th, 2017

Text: Matthew 25:14-30 Revised Standard Version (RSV)

The Parable of the Talents

14 “For it will be as when a man going on a journey called his servants and entrusted to them his property; 15 to one he gave five talents,[a] to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away. 16 He who had received the five talents went at once and traded with them; and he made five talents more. 17 So also, he who had the two talents made two talents more. 18 But he who had received the one talent went and dug in the ground and hid his master’s money. 19 Now after a long time the master of those servants came and settled accounts with them. 20 And he who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five talents more, saying, ‘Master, you delivered to me five talents; here I have made five talents more.’ 21 His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant; you have been faithful over a little, I will set you over much; enter into the joy of your master.’ 22 And he also who had the two talents came forward, saying, ‘Master, you delivered to me two talents; here I have made two talents more.’ 23 His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant; you have been faithful over a little, I will set you over much; enter into the joy of your master.’ 24 He also who had received the one talent came forward, saying, ‘Master, I knew you to be a hard man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not winnow; 25 so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.’ 26 But his master answered him, ‘You wicked and slothful servant! You knew that I reap where I have not sowed, and gather where I have not winnowed? 27 Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and at my coming I should have received what was my own with interest. 28 So take the talent from him, and give it to him who has the ten talents. 29 For to every one who has will more be given, and he will have abundance; but from him who has not, even what he has will be taken away. 30 And cast the worthless servant into the outer darkness; there men will weep and gnash their teeth.’

In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity. Amen.

To understand this parable, we have to first try to erase what we think of when we hear or use the word “talent.”

We use “talent” to mean “gift,” or a special skill or aptitude a person has for, say, music, or art, or writing, or sports, and so on. We say, “that woman sure has a talent!” or “That boy is the most talented soccer player I’ve ever seen!” We also think of our talents as something we can offer God – “I have a talent for drawing, so I will draw for God.” Albert Schweitzer devoted his medical gifts to God through his missionary hospital. Johann Sebastian Bach used his incredible musical talents for the glory of God in the form of church music. Every week, millions of us sit glued to our TV screens to watch such shows as “America’s Got Talent,” “The Voice,” and “Dancing with the Stars.” We see people doing really amazing things. So, to us, that’s what “talent” means. It’s almost impossible for us to think of the word “talent” in any other way.

But our understanding of the word is totally different than what it originally meant. No one hearing Matthew’s Gospel would have thought of “talent” in that way. To them, the word meant one thing, and one thing only: A specific weight of silver worth about a thousand dollars in today’s money. To drive the point home, one scholar, Carla Works, writes: “Although the first receives five times as much as the last, each receives a significant sum of money. A talent is equal to about 6,000 denarii. Since one denarius is a common laborer’s daily wage, a talent would be roughly equivalent to 20 years wages for the average worker. Five talents, the largest amount entrusted to any of the servants, is comparable to one hundred years worth of labor, an astronomical amount of money.”[1]

But, of course, this parable at its heart has nothing at all to do with money.  The monetary amounts, however great or small, are metaphors: “In its literary setting, Jesus tells this story to his disciples (24:3) to prepare them for the days ahead when their faith will be tested. This parable depicts how the disciples are to demonstrate their faithfulness as they anticipate the return of the Lord.”[2]

The investing of talents is, in short, a test. But even more than that, the investing of the servants symbolizes the work Jesus’ disciples are to do in the meantime.

But before we go on, we need to deal with that third servant, what he does, what he says, how the master reacts to him, and what it all really means.

“Master,” the third servant says, “I knew you to be a hard man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not winnow; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.”

You can almost see that poor wretch, on his knees, not daring to look up into the glowering, shouting face of his master, red and contorted with anger at both the servant’s lack of action as well as his insults, knowing that punishment was surely to come for his failure to increase his master’s wealth. As far as he is concerned, his master does not have a single shred of kindness or compassion in him. If you don’t please him, you will face the consequences, and they will be dire.

Throughout the course of the last 2000 years (almost), the master of these three servants has often been equated with God – either God the Father, or God the Son. I personally have an enormous problem with that interpretation. Actually, I have several problems with it.

First, we hear the third servant say that his boss reaped where he didn’t sow and gathered where he didn’t winnow – that is to say, he flat-out accuses his master of cheating others, of defrauding them, of amassing ill-gotten gains. That doesn’t sound like God to me.

Second, that servant is clearly terrified of the man. It makes me wonder what that master had done to him in the past, what cruelties he may have visited on a person who is weaker, economically, socially – in every conceivable way, really – to create that fear in the servant’s heart. That doesn’t sound like God to me, either.

Third, the master clearly didn’t have a great deal of confidence in that servant, as he entrusted to him “only” one talent – yet that one talent was still worth 20 years’ wages for a common worker. It seems to me that the master gave this man a test even greater than the one he gave the other servants – this looks to me to have been a “make or break” test of not just skill and industry, but also loyalty. And the servant failed. He buried that coin in the dirt. The master, predictably, was very, very, very unhappy. He – also predictably – has that servant thrown into “the outer darkness” – which some people interpret as a metaphor for hell, a place where we are separated from God. Forever.

That’s a sticking point for me, because there are those who say that the master in this parable is God. I just can’t go there. That’s not consistent with my concept of God in any way, shape, or form; nor is that kind of capricious God consistent with anything I have ever known or been taught – starting with the teachings of Jesus Himself – about the nature and the Person of God.

How could it be that the God who created the universe, created this planet, created us in His image, who gave us His only-begotten Son to come among us to teach us, lead us, love us, forgive us, and save us by dying on the cross – how could it be that that God would then refuse forgiveness and mercy to that poor wretched servant, and send him to hell, for simply giving in to fear?

It does not make a lick of sense to me.

But consider this: Maybe the servant did not, in fact, have an accurate view of his master. It’s a question of perception, of perspective. David Lose makes this intriguing point in his blog post for this week. After all, the first two servants clearly don’t share the opinion of their master that terrifies the third servant, and since they were both given far more talents, they had far more risk and far more to lose.

The way we view the world has a direct impact on how we act. If we see the world as dark, terrifying, and forbidding, we will live our lives in a much different way than if we view the world as warm, sunny, and inviting. The same is true for how we look at God. Lose writes: “[I]f we imagine God primarily as stern, even angry, and given to dispensing a terrifying and harsh justice, we will likely come to believe that everything bad in our lives is punishment from God. Similarly, if we see God as arbitrary and capricious, that’s what we experience, a fickle and unsympathetic God who meets our expectations. But if we view God primarily in terms of grace, one who empowers and entrusts and frees, then we will regularly be surprised and uplifted by the numerous gifts and moments of grace we experience all around us. For when we imagine God to be a God of love, we find it far easier to experience God’s love in our own lives and to share it with others (emphasis added).”[3]

I think every one of us knows, or knows of, people who have fallen away from the faith owing to some horrible personal tragedy. Maybe it was a car accident that killed someone they loved; maybe it was the sudden onset of a disease. Whatever it was, they reacted by saying that famous lament, “Why me, God?” We can’t blame them for this attitude, because we’ve all been there ourselves.

The difference between seeing God as that harsh master and seeing God as our heavenly Father, as Jesus teaches, lies partly, I think, in believing that God does not cause our misfortunes, but that God is with us in our misfortunes. This reminds me of that “footprints on the beach” story we’ve all seen. You know how it goes – there are two sets of footprints in the sand, and then suddenly there’s only one. The narrator/writer asks God, “God, things were really tough for me back there, but there’s only one set of tracks! Where did you go?” And God answers, “There’s only one set of tracks, because I was carrying you.” God is not our enemy. God is the greatest Friend we will ever have. God’s love is the greatest love we will ever know.

And this takes us back to the real point of today’s lesson: How we disciples of Jesus are to live in this time of waiting for His return.

The first, and most obvious, thing we are to do is to share God’s love with the world around us, even though that is sometimes easier said than done. Not everybody will appreciate our efforts. Some will reject them outright. Still others will accuse us of meddling. But we need to continue to plant those seeds of love, because one day – maybe long after we are gone – they will bear fruit. That is the hope, and the confidence, we have from Jesus.

Sharing God’s love is not just done with words, but also by deeds – visiting the sick and imprisoned, clothing the naked, feeding the hungry, and welcoming the stranger. However we do all this, by whatever deeds, large or small, we declare ourselves ready, able, and willing to push back the darkness and let in the Light that is Christ.

And, one day – and that day will surely come – we will hear those words from Jesus: “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity. Amen.

[1] Works, Carla, “Commentary on Matthew 25:14-30,” November 13, 2011, Working Preacher,  http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=1018

[2] Ibid.

[3] Lose, David, “Pentecost 24A: What You See Is What You Get,” …in the Meantime, http://www.davidlose.net/2017/11/pentecost-24-a-wysiwig/