Anglican Church of Canada
November 15, 2020 Proper 33
Matthew 25:14-30
One of those basic questions about our lives, the kind of questions we might ask ourselves in the dark hours of the night when we find ourselves lying awake, mind racing, sleep out of reach, is this: have I lived to my full potential? Have I done the best with my life, accomplished all that I could or ought to have? And the answer, as often as not, at least in those bleak hours of the night, is no, I haven’t, not by a long shot. And then, if sleep continues to elude us, a second question may follow: but why not?
Today’s familiar parable of the talents seems to go to the heart of that question. It promises us answers to the questions that might keep us awake at night. But as so often, this Jesus who speaks in parables is more elusive than that. Instead of an answer, we may find many answers – and these answers may leave us with more questions.
On the surface, it all seems very straightforward. We know what this parable means: we have been each been given gifts by God, abilities we are to use to do God’s work in the world. The idea is built right into our language, in the word “talent”. Originally this word meant only a certain amount of silver – if we use it today to refer to something quite different, the special personal abilities each person has, it is because of the place this parable has held in the English speaking world. Those who invest their talents well for God, bringing a good return, will be richly rewarded. But those who don’t receive only condemnation. Why did the third servant not invest his talent wisely? Because he was wicked and lazy. And if we too find ourselves condemned of not having achieved our full potential, what does that make us?
So far the customary reading of the parable, one that seems so self-evident and obvious to us. But this understanding ignores a lot of the unsavoury details of the parable, which might give us pause if we really pay attention to them. The master is called a “harsh man, reaping where he did not sow, and gathering where he did not scatter seed” – the kind of predatory capitalist who is doing so much to wreck the world’s economy today, looking to make an outrageous profit without concern for building sustainable economic structures. Is this the way we ought to think of God? Is this to be our model for how to act as Christians? Is our salvation something we attain through careful and ruthless investing, to make a killing on the stock market? And the losers and unsuccessful – are they really just wicked and lazy? How could we ever reconcile such a teaching with Jesus, who always affirms God’s particular care of the poor? This may be the gospel of the so-called prosperity churches, who promote ostentatious wealth as a sign of God’s favour, but it has nothing to do with the Jesus I know, or would want to know.
And so some preachers have proclaimed a completely different take on this parable. Starting with the description of the Master as a harsh man, they have suggested that the real hero of the parable is none other than the third servant, the one who courageously refuses to participate in the master’s greed and exploitation. Jesus, they suggest, is really holding him up as our model. Hmm. Could it really be that we have been getting this wrong all along?
I have a lot of sympathy with this way of understanding the parable – both with its careful attention to detail and its politics. But I am not completely convinced. It seems to go against the clear intention of the text, which condemns the third servant. But especially, what do we do with this understanding? It may be true, but what does it have to say to us? I am suspicious of the answer it gives our hypothetical night-time questions. Have I really made the best of the gifts I have been given? Don’t worry about it, it’s the system that is wrong – my failures can be glorified as a protest. That just feels too convenient.
There are actually several of Jesus’s parables where he seems to be comparing God to a rather tyrannical authority figure: an unjust judge, an exploitative capitalist. It’s hard to figure out what is going on here. He can’t be saying this is the way God really is; but neither does it seem right to ignore the details. I’ve struggled with these parables over the years, and have come to the conclusion that Jesus is messing with us in a particular way. It is like he is taking some of the negative ways in which we can sometimes think about God, and presenting them back to us as a kind of caricature. Is this really what you think God is like?
“You are a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed.” Let’s be honest, a lot of people seem to treat God that way, as though God were a harsh taskmaster, demanding from us service and perfection he has not prepared us for. Take another look at the parable: we really only have the servant’s word for it that the master is a harsh and unjust man. His behaviour would seem to indicate the opposite: he is generous to the other servants, not using them to make money for him, but giving them what they need to do well.
So maybe the third servant’s problem is not that he is wicked and lazy, but that he is fearful. He is afraid because he does not trust the master. He is caught in his negative, suspicious attitude, and so he will not let the master do something good for him. Rather than taking the talent and using it to grow, he hides it and returns it unused to the master, refusing the gift.
I wonder if that can be true of us as well. If we sometimes do not realize our potential, maybe it is not because we are wicked and lazy. Maybe that is just an unhelpful way of beating ourselves up. Maybe our real problem is that we just don’t trust God quite enough. That’s not to say we are without faith. We have all kinds of faith in a generous, good God, as long as it’s out there in the abstract. Of course we believe God is good to others. But when it comes to ourselves – well, often that’s the hardest. Maybe on some unconscious level, we just don’t believe that we are worth God caring about.
And so, instead of trusting God’s word that he has given us all kinds of talents with which to serve and flourish, we underestimate ourselves. We don’t think we have anything to offer. We don’t think we are really equipped to make a difference for other people. And so we consistently, predictably, fall short of the potential that God has placed in us.
Every Sunday, at the end of the service, we say those words: “Glory to God, whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.” Would it be rude to ask if we really believe this? Do we really believe that God can and wants to use us to do things we can’t even imagine, that God has and will equip us with grace and talents sufficient to the task, that we have unsuspected abilities in us ready to be discovered? All of us, every single one of us, no matter our age or background or self-image, is called and equipped for joyful service, to accomplish infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.
So let us look for that talent. We may have buried it, we may have forgotten it, or never really known it is there. It is there. Let us look for it, dig it up, dust it off, and look for a place to put it to work. This is not blind service to a demanding master. In the end, the ones who will be richer, so much richer, are we ourselves.
Today’s familiar parable of the talents seems to go to the heart of that question. It promises us answers to the questions that might keep us awake at night. But as so often, this Jesus who speaks in parables is more elusive than that. Instead of an answer, we may find many answers – and these answers may leave us with more questions.
On the surface, it all seems very straightforward. We know what this parable means: we have been each been given gifts by God, abilities we are to use to do God’s work in the world. The idea is built right into our language, in the word “talent”. Originally this word meant only a certain amount of silver – if we use it today to refer to something quite different, the special personal abilities each person has, it is because of the place this parable has held in the English speaking world. Those who invest their talents well for God, bringing a good return, will be richly rewarded. But those who don’t receive only condemnation. Why did the third servant not invest his talent wisely? Because he was wicked and lazy. And if we too find ourselves condemned of not having achieved our full potential, what does that make us?
So far the customary reading of the parable, one that seems so self-evident and obvious to us. But this understanding ignores a lot of the unsavoury details of the parable, which might give us pause if we really pay attention to them. The master is called a “harsh man, reaping where he did not sow, and gathering where he did not scatter seed” – the kind of predatory capitalist who is doing so much to wreck the world’s economy today, looking to make an outrageous profit without concern for building sustainable economic structures. Is this the way we ought to think of God? Is this to be our model for how to act as Christians? Is our salvation something we attain through careful and ruthless investing, to make a killing on the stock market? And the losers and unsuccessful – are they really just wicked and lazy? How could we ever reconcile such a teaching with Jesus, who always affirms God’s particular care of the poor? This may be the gospel of the so-called prosperity churches, who promote ostentatious wealth as a sign of God’s favour, but it has nothing to do with the Jesus I know, or would want to know.
And so some preachers have proclaimed a completely different take on this parable. Starting with the description of the Master as a harsh man, they have suggested that the real hero of the parable is none other than the third servant, the one who courageously refuses to participate in the master’s greed and exploitation. Jesus, they suggest, is really holding him up as our model. Hmm. Could it really be that we have been getting this wrong all along?
I have a lot of sympathy with this way of understanding the parable – both with its careful attention to detail and its politics. But I am not completely convinced. It seems to go against the clear intention of the text, which condemns the third servant. But especially, what do we do with this understanding? It may be true, but what does it have to say to us? I am suspicious of the answer it gives our hypothetical night-time questions. Have I really made the best of the gifts I have been given? Don’t worry about it, it’s the system that is wrong – my failures can be glorified as a protest. That just feels too convenient.
There are actually several of Jesus’s parables where he seems to be comparing God to a rather tyrannical authority figure: an unjust judge, an exploitative capitalist. It’s hard to figure out what is going on here. He can’t be saying this is the way God really is; but neither does it seem right to ignore the details. I’ve struggled with these parables over the years, and have come to the conclusion that Jesus is messing with us in a particular way. It is like he is taking some of the negative ways in which we can sometimes think about God, and presenting them back to us as a kind of caricature. Is this really what you think God is like?
“You are a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed.” Let’s be honest, a lot of people seem to treat God that way, as though God were a harsh taskmaster, demanding from us service and perfection he has not prepared us for. Take another look at the parable: we really only have the servant’s word for it that the master is a harsh and unjust man. His behaviour would seem to indicate the opposite: he is generous to the other servants, not using them to make money for him, but giving them what they need to do well.
So maybe the third servant’s problem is not that he is wicked and lazy, but that he is fearful. He is afraid because he does not trust the master. He is caught in his negative, suspicious attitude, and so he will not let the master do something good for him. Rather than taking the talent and using it to grow, he hides it and returns it unused to the master, refusing the gift.
I wonder if that can be true of us as well. If we sometimes do not realize our potential, maybe it is not because we are wicked and lazy. Maybe that is just an unhelpful way of beating ourselves up. Maybe our real problem is that we just don’t trust God quite enough. That’s not to say we are without faith. We have all kinds of faith in a generous, good God, as long as it’s out there in the abstract. Of course we believe God is good to others. But when it comes to ourselves – well, often that’s the hardest. Maybe on some unconscious level, we just don’t believe that we are worth God caring about.
And so, instead of trusting God’s word that he has given us all kinds of talents with which to serve and flourish, we underestimate ourselves. We don’t think we have anything to offer. We don’t think we are really equipped to make a difference for other people. And so we consistently, predictably, fall short of the potential that God has placed in us.
Every Sunday, at the end of the service, we say those words: “Glory to God, whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.” Would it be rude to ask if we really believe this? Do we really believe that God can and wants to use us to do things we can’t even imagine, that God has and will equip us with grace and talents sufficient to the task, that we have unsuspected abilities in us ready to be discovered? All of us, every single one of us, no matter our age or background or self-image, is called and equipped for joyful service, to accomplish infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.
So let us look for that talent. We may have buried it, we may have forgotten it, or never really known it is there. It is there. Let us look for it, dig it up, dust it off, and look for a place to put it to work. This is not blind service to a demanding master. In the end, the ones who will be richer, so much richer, are we ourselves.