Readings for the 24th Sunday after Pentecost

Rev.Dr. Sam Wells says that today’s parable of the master, the slaves, and the talents is top of the list of the most misinterpreted parables we hear—especially because in the lectionary it shows up right at stewardship time. Maybe you’ve heard the theme explained as something like, “We’ve been given a lot, therefore we have to give back a lot?” Or, as it is frequently internalized in our commercial culture, “I’ve been given a lot, therefore I have to succeed and make a lot?” As convenient as it would be for me on this Stewardship celebration Sunday to do that today, I can’t. That way of reading this passage—at least where it falls in Matthew’s Gospel—just isn’t right.

First, I’ll repeat what I said last week, and what I’ll say again next week when we here the final parable in this series. These two chapters, 24 and 25 in Matthew, are often called the “Little Apocalypse,” and let me remind you again that “Apocalypse” doesn’t mean catastrophe or Armageddon; it means “unveiling,” or “revealing.” The disciples have just asked Jesus to reveal about the end times, reveal about his return and the triumph of God’s kingdom, and he replies by telling stories, stories that start with, “The kingdom of heaven will be like this…” At the end of lectionary year A, where we are now, we hear those stories on four successive weeks; this is week three. Before today, Jesus has told about the faithful and unfaithful slaves, one that cared for the other slaves and worked hard while their rich master was away on a long trip, the second who beat the other slaves and partied. When the master returned, the first was praised and put in charge of all his master’s possessions; the second was thrown out. Next Jesus told the story of the wise and foolish bridesmaids, waiting for the party to being while the bridegroom is delayed. The ones who had prepared with faithful action went into the party; the ones who were not ready were locked out.

Today’s third story is about another rich master who, before going on a long journey, entrusted three of his slaves with large sums of money: giving them in turn ten, five, and a single talent. You’ll remember from a sermon back in September that a talent is worth 15 years of wages. So, even the slave who was given only one talent was given a fortune, really—they’ve all got tons of money. So the first two slaves log into eTrade and double their money; the third one hides it in the ground. Again, “after a long time” the master returns and rewards the first two, saying, “Enter into the joy of your master.” The third slave, though, tells the master, “I was afraid of you, so I just hid my money in the dirt to keep it secure—here it is, back in your hands, safe and sound.” The master, furious, replies, “You wicked and lazy slave…For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance, but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away,” and this third slave is thrown out.

Take a look at all these parables in the second half of Matthew—take a look at each story Jesus tells that begins with, “The kingdom of heaven will be like this…” You’ll find laborers in the vineyard, all of whom receive the master’s abundance regardless of what hour they started…Wedding guests who were brought in from the streets, good and bad alike, because those who were originally invited to the feast didn’t bother to show up…Slaves entrusted to tend all their master’s property…Bridesmaids waiting for the bride and groom…Slaves given a fortune to invest. What do all these stories have in common? Well, there’s a rich and generous master who is gone for a long time, his return date unknown. And all of the people in the stories are already “in”, already accepted, already invited, already trusted, already given the master’s riches. None of them has done anything to earn what they’ve been given. And all of them have a choice—a choice to engage, to trust, to put the gifts to work, to be ready for the master’s return—or not. And when the master does return, when the party begins, they are welcomed into the banquet, into the master’s joy—not because of the size of their results, but simply because they trusted enough to show up, trusted enough to be ready, trusted enough to receive what they had been given, trusted enough to try to use it.

Think about today’s parable. That third slave who buried the money was actually doing what the letter of the law recommended—Jewish law of that time said, “Whoever immediately buries property entrusted to him is no longer liable because he has taken the safest course conceivable.” And yet, he’s the one the master condemns—and we’re shocked by the strength of the condemnation: “You wicked and lazy slave …For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.” Parables should be shocking, because they always turn things on their heads. But what if, rather than being shocked by the master’s reply, we were shocked instead by the insanity of a master who gives their slaves everything: the PIN to their ATM account, the keys to the lockbox, all the passwords, all the property, all the riches, all the authority? What if we were shocked by the idea of the master who gives everything to the slaves before going away for a long journey? Jesus tells these stories as he is nearing the end of his ministry. On the way to the Cross, over and over again, Jesus tells stories about a master who called in his servants and gave them everything he had. Jesus tells these stories when he is on his way to Calvary to give away everything he’s got.

These parables in Matthew about the end times are not so much about stewardship or the wise use of resources as they are about being willing to trust, being willing to simply show up rather than turning away, being willing to resist fear and to behave in radical, risky, trusting ways. That’s how we enter into the joy of the master’s return. These parables are also about the scandal of abundant Grace, love and forgiveness freely offered to all, undeserved. God’s grace, like the talents in today’s parable, it is given to be multiplied. Sharing grace, handing it out to those around us, doesn’t diminish us, it yields even more grace. Burying grace—hiding it, hoarding it—reduces it and rejects it. The slave who buried the money in the field didn’t even use it for himself…”but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.”

John Buchanan, publisher of The Christian Century and Presbyterian pastor, says “Jesus’ warning is that the outcome of playing it safe—not caring, not loving passionately… not risking anything—is like death, like being banished to the outer darkness…To paraphrase him, “For most of us, religion is not a high-risk venture—just the opposite. For most of us, religion is about security, here, and in heaven. It’s no more risky, we’ve been taught, than having a list of beliefs in our heads about God and Jesus, and trying not to do some obviously bad things. But that’s not what Jesus says. Jesus says faith is not so much about believing ideas as it is about following in his footsteps. Faith is about being bold and brave, reaching high and caring deeply.”

The point of today’s parable is that the greatest risk of all is not to risk anything. The point of all these parables about the end times is not really a point about sin and punishment, it’s a point about undeserved grace given that is either received or rejected. These parables are an invitation to the adventure of faith, the risky adventure of living as a disciple of Jesus. We have a choice—a choice to join with Jesus, to behave in Christ-like ways, to be trusting servants who risk and give and live fearlessly, or to turn away from the adventure, to dig a hole and bury God’s bounty safely in the field, to live in fear and distrust.

Fr. Robert Capon, author of one of my favorite books, The Supper of the Lamb (it’s my favorite because it’s a combination cookbook and theology book), says, “Both heaven and hell are populated entirely by forgiven sinners. Hell is just a courtesy for those who insist they want no part of forgiveness [and abundance]”. Salvation is not about escaping to heaven when we die, it’s about a relationship with Jesus that starts even now. We have a choice, in the end, to live abundantly, or to have nothing—that’s what these parables are about. My prayer this Thanksgiving week is that you will accept the invitation, you’ll come to the party, you’ll take risks with God’s abundance, you’ll encounter the mystery and the scandal of freely given grace and forgiveness, and in doing that, you’ll be entering into the joy of your master.