Hearing the parable in
this morning’s gospel, it’s helpful to know a little more about life in the
first century. First, a talent wasn’t a special ability or skill, and calling
it a “valuable coin” is a dramatic understatement; a talent was equivalent to more
than fifteen years of wages for an
average worker. Imagine one coin worth
several hundred thousand, or even a half
million dollars today. It was a fortune! And, second, as much as the idea of
burying one’s treasure in the ground may make us laugh today, at that time, it
was considered a safe and prudent action to guard against robbers and thieves.
So, the third servant who had been entrusted with this small fortune was not
called wicked or lazy because he wasn’t a smart investor.
But then, “Why was he banished to outer darkness where there is weeping and
gnashing of teeth?”
In his telling of this
parable, Matthew’s dialog draws our attention to this third servant, and we
hear how he made different assumptions about the master, acted differently and
was judged differently than the others.
First, he believed the
master was both harsh and selfish; and then, because of what he believed about
the character of the master, the servant made different choices about completing
the work that had been entrusted to him. Motivated by fear of the master, his
response was restrained, reserved and safe; he did only what would secure a
good result, and, he hoped, protect him from the wrath of the master.
The others, whose
obedience was shaped by a different understanding of the master, took greater
risks and were welcomed “into the joy of the master.” (v. 21, 23) Identity and
obedience are two dimensions of discipleship that begin with understanding who
the master – for us as Christians, God – is, and the parable shows us how wrong
things can go when we don’t know God’s true character.
What thrusts us into outer darkness is not knowing God. Knowing God means being in relationship with God, remembering God’s
promises for us and receiving the grace
that God gives us freely and abundantly.
God offers freedom in
discipleship, in following Jesus, but, too often, fear shackles us and shapes
our obedience.
Fear infects the world around us.
A glance at headlines reveal a bloodless coup in Zimbabwe, tensions with North
Korea and Russia and a blatant disregard for the personhood of women and girls.
And those are just the headlines. Fear
is an everyday reality for hurricane-stricken communities
living without access to power or clean water; parents who have lost children and
children whose
parents are facing deportation. Naturally, we react and grasp at certainty and
safety.
Catholic priest Henri
Nouwen describes three lies around which we naturally center ourselves:
·
I am what I do.
·
I am what I have.
·
I am what others think of me or say that I am.
Fear feeds these lies, keeping us captive to them
and prompting us to rely on ourselves – our efforts and abilities, our material
security or financial acuity, or our reputations and accolades – instead of
trusting in who God is,
what God has provided for us
and entrusted to us,
and who God says we are.
Fear is what keeps us
from knowing God and leaves us in darkness. But into this outer darkness where
the world would have us believe hope cannot exist; into this void where
atheists and skeptics would proclaim God is dead, faith speaks.
The Scriptures for
this day remind us that God is steadfast and “our refuge from one generation to
another” and God “destined us not for wrath but for obtaining salvation.”
(Psalm 90: 1; 1 Thess. 5:9) This is the character of
the master that we know, God who loves us and forgives us.
Our salvation is not
in what we do, but in what God has already done for us, in the
person of Jesus. And now, God entrusts us, not with a valuable
coin, but with the Kingdom, calling us to bear
witness to God’s love and mercy, and not with a spirit of slavery that falls
into fear, but one of adoption, remembering we have
been made God’s sons and daughters.
We find our freedom in
the faith we’ve been given. One of our early Church Fathers St. Augustine (Au-gus′-tin) is remembered for
writing, “Pray as though everything depended on God. Work as though everything
depended on you.” Our freedom as Christians calls us to act. Not to play it safe.
To risk. To call a thing what it is.
The list of people who
have been “othered” in history is long and too often the church has stayed
quiet.
When we hear talk that
demeans another human being and says they are “less than” because of their
identity, our faith empowers us to speak out.
When we see power abused
and victims shamed, our faith empowers us to speak out.
When we see children
and teenagers endangered, our faith empowers us to speak out.
When we see privilege
go unchallenged and those who do not have it are silenced or ignored, our faith
empowers us to speak out.
Jesus, crucified and
risen, knows the risks God calls us to take as disciples, and when the risky
hard work is completed, God invites us into the joy of the master that is found
in increasing the Kingdom of God here on earth, and in sharing the treasure of
good news that God loves us and forgives us.
Let us pray…
Holy God,
Thank you for loving
us and forgiving us and for entrusting the work of Your Kingdom to us.
Help us remember your
grace and mercy to us, and reject lies and fear.
Empower us to act on
our faith, following Jesus and talking risks for the sake of the world.
Amen.
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