Talented

Scriptures:       Judges 4:1-7; I Thessalonians 5:1-11;

I Corinthians 6:12-20  Matthew 25:14-30

Talented

I’m sure most of us, in flipping the TV dial, have encountered the Donald Trump reality show “The Apprentice” – the Donald, he of the megabucks and the bad combover.   The show starts with a number of contestants, who are divided into teams and assigned projects to complete for the Donald.  The successful team goes onto the next round, while the unsuccessful team is called to a board meeting, where they haggle over who to throw under the bus.  And when the scapegoat is identified, the Donald dismisses them with the words “you’re fired”.  The winner gets a bunch of the Donald’s money to set up a business.

Our Gospel reading gives us a parable that reads very much like an episode of The Apprentice. We’re given a story with a master with three slaves, whom he entrusted with some very large sums of money, in proportion to their ability.  Two of the servants double the amounts with which they were entrusted, and the master is well pleased with their efforts.  One servant digs a hole and hides his portion of the money in the ground, and when the master returns, just gives it back to him.  Not surprisingly, the master is greatly displeased with this servant, has him fired, kicks him to the curb, and gives the servant’s money to the servant with the most talents.

It goes without saying that this is a challenging, multi-layered parable, a parable that offends our sense of justice.  Perhaps the hot button verse, the verse that pushes our buttons, is the following:  “For to those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance, but from those who have nothing, even the little they have will be taken away.” The master in this story sounds like an ancient version of a venture capitalist.  The whole story may remind us a little – or maybe a lot – like our current society, where the haves, the proverbial 1%, grow ever richer, while the rest of us scrape by on less and less.  Is this really what Jesus wants of us, to be venture capitalists?

I think the first thing to say is that, just as last week’s parable, the one in which the five foolish bridesmaids ran out of oil, was not really about oil, today’s parable involving money is not really about money.  So we can breathe a sigh of relief.  But not too big a sigh of relief, because it’s about something infinitely more precious than any amount of money – our faith, and ultimately, our lives. 

The amounts of money given away in the parable – five talents, two talents, one talent – were fantastic sums of money in that day; one talent equaled more than 15 years’ wages. The servants were each entrusted with something of great value, and although it’s not explicitly stated, the expectation was that in the master’s absence, the servants would make good use of it for the benefit of their master.  And the way the faithful servants accomplished this was by going out into the market place and trading.

We, likewise, are entrusted with something of infinite value – our bodies, our souls, our abilities, our lives.   As human beings we are created in the image of God and have something of the divine within us.  I Corinthians 6 tells us that our lives are not our own, but that we were bought with a price.  Our lives are entrusted to us by God.  It’s no accident that the word talent as used in the Bible as a monetary unit of great value, was adopted into common use to represent our skills and gifts and abilities – because our skills and gifts and abilities are likewise of great value in God’s eyes, greater value than any amount of money.  And, like the monetary talents in the parable, our lives and our talents are entrusted to us for a reason – to be used for the benefit of the master, to be used for the greater glory of God.  But, in order to use our lives for the benefit of our heavenly master, figuratively speaking, we have to get out into the market place, out among people, out in our everyday life.  It is out there, out in the world, out in our daily lives, that our lives can make a difference.  Being a person of faith, being a Christian, is not just a matter of going to church or singing hymns or believing the words of a creed – as important as church and hymns and music are.  What we do here at church, in addition to glorifying God, is to prepare us for life out there, out beyond our red church doors, out in the world.  What happens in here, among the community of faith, is practice for what happens out there.  If what we do in here makes no difference to what we do out there, we’ve gone and buried our treasure.

Let’s talk some more about that third servant, the one entrusted with one talent, who went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid the money.  And keep in mind, the third servant was honest.  He didn’t try to steal any of his master’s money, and in fact kept it from being stolen by others.  He didn’t do anything that was illegal, immoral, or fattening with the money.  He just did……nothing.  And doing nothing brought the master’s fury down upon him.

Let’s listen again to his explanation:  “Master, I knew you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow and gathering where you did not scatter, so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground.”   Key words:  “Master, I knew you were a harsh man…..so I was afraid.”  The servant’s image of his master as a harsh man shut down the servant’s creativity.  The servant didn’t think of trying to use the money to make more money, but only of playing it safe and making sure the master didn’t lose any of his money.  And so the servant told the master, “Here’s your money, I kept it safe for you while you were gone.”  But keeping it safe wasn’t the reason the servant had been entrusted with the money.  And so the master took the money from him and gave it to the five-talent servant – because the five-talent guy knew how to make good use of it, which the one-talent guy did not.

“Master, I knew you were a harsh man…..so I was afraid.”  How we view God will affect how we use our lives, those treasures God has entrusted to us.  If we don’t believe in God, or don’t believe that God is concerned with our behavior, we’re apt to expend most of our energy and effort on ourselves.  This isn’t true across the board by any means; there are many, many atheist and agnostic people who for cultural or political or humanitarian reasons do all manner of wonderful things for others, and plenty of believers who don’t.  My point is that our faith can be a powerful motivator for solidarity with those less fortunate.  Sometimes, anyway.

But what kind of faith we have will also make a very real difference in how we use or spend our lives.  A lot of religion is fear-based.  It’s all about staying out of hell, all about getting that “get out of jail free” card. Like the unprofitable servant, we have an image of a God of wrath peering into the minutest details of our lives, glowering at us and ready to hurl down bolts of lightning if we make the slightest mis-step or fail to grovel sufficiently before him.    That’s the religion many, many people were raised on, likely the religion some of us were raised on….and it’s a kind of religion that disempowers us, immobilizes us, freezes us up, so that we’d rather do nothing than risk making a mistake.    But when God is calling us to mission, to do nothing in response is in itself a mistake.  To do nothing is to make a decision not to do something.  Looking ahead to next Sunday, the Gospel  reading for next Sunday is the parable of the sheep and goats, in which the king welcomes those who helped the least of these and drives away those who didn’t.  We’ll certainly talk more about this parable next Sunday, but remember if you will the king’s words to those who were rejected:  I was hungry and you didn’t feed me; naked and you didn’t clothe me; sick and in prison, and you didn’t visit me.  Again, just as in this week’s parable, those who were rejected were not rejected because they murdered or pillaged the hungry and naked and sick and imprisoned.  Rather, they were rejected because they saw a need and they didn’t respond, because they saw a need and in response they did nothing.  In this context, to do nothing is to make a decision not to do something.  In this context, doing nothing is a sin.

By contrast, I would encourage us toward a faith that’s grounded, not in fear, but in trust of a faithful and loving God.  Because we trust that God is faithful and loving, we can afford to take risks that a person cowering before a god of fear would never take.  Remember that the master who harshly chastised the do-nothing slave is the same master who greeted the other two with the words, “Well done, good and faithful servants; you have been faithful in a little; you’ll be entrusted with much; enter the joy of your master.” The joy of your master…the master wants to spread some joy around.  He’d have gladly spread some of that joy to the one talent guy as well, if the guy had known what to do with what he had.

We are to use our faith and our lives in God’s service in the way that a venture capitalist would use money to enrich himself or herself.  And yeah, if we take risks, we’re going to mess up.  Not every risk is going to pan out.  To use a phrase popular on Facebook, our best efforts, with the best of intentions, will sometimes result in an “epic fail”.  God knows that, even more than we do.  But we worship a God who is able to take our flops and epic failures and use even them for his purposes.  So we can take chances, can take risks in serving God.  Now, listen very carefully – when I speak of taking risks to serve God – I’m not telling you to go to Atlantic City and play the slots.  That’s taking a risk, but not for God.  Risks for the kingdom of God may involve risking money, but they may also involve risking popularity, risking relationships, risking reputation, even risking our physical safety and our lives.

When I was a student at Penn State, a little over 30 years ago, I belonged to the University Choir, which had about 200 singers.  The director at that time, Raymond Brown, was a white-haired wild man.  He began every practice by reading us a poem, and during practice he would run up and down the aisle, encouraging, cajoling, correcting, occasionally literally throwing himself into the lap of somebody that he thought wasn’t paying attention or who might have been mouthing the words.  The man was on fire for classical music; it was his life.  And he was constantly pleading with us, when we were singing, not to hold back out of fear of singing the wrong note.  Raymond Brown used to tell us, “If you’re going to make a mistake, make a mistake at the top of your lungs.”  Martin Luther said something similar, though in different words:  “Sin boldly, but trust in God’s grace more boldly still.”

The message of Jesus’ parable is – Don’t play it safe!  Be willing to take a chance on God.  Don’t be like the wallflower at a high school dance, clinging to the wall, terrified to strike up a conversation with anyone, and then kicking yourself on the way home.  Take a risk…ask someone to dance; the worst they can do is say no, and they might say yes.  Take a risk and tell somebody about Jesus this week.  The worst they can do is say no and walk away, but they may say yes, or at least say, “tell me more”.  Take a risk and use your talents and skills and energy to oppose oppression and to work for justice and peace.  There, the stakes are higher, and the risks are greater.  But even so, we trust that wherever we end up, God goes with us.

You’ve likely heard the slogan of Independence Blue Cross:  Live fearless.  And yes, the grammar isn’t the best.  But Jesus is telling us, “Live fearlessly.  Don’t let yourself be tied into knots by fear.  Don’t let your skills and talents go to waste because you’re afraid to use them.  Live fearlessly.”

“Well done, good and faithful servant; you have been faithful with a little; you’ll be entrusted with much more; enter the joy of your master.”  May we make wise and faithful use of everything that God has given us – time, talent, treasure, life itself  - so that, when our talents and our time on earth have run out, we may experience the joy of eternal life in God’s presence.  May it be so with us.  Amen.