Five, Two, and One

 

Jesu Juva

St. Matthew 25:14-30                                           

November 19, 2023

Proper 28A                                     

 Dear saints of our Savior~

          When the turkey and trimmings get divvied up this Thursday, how would you feel if the person on your right was served a plate piled five times higher than yours?  What about if the person across the table received a portion of deliciousness that doubled the amount on your plate?  And, when dessert time rolls around, you get served one slice of pie, the person across the table gets two slices, and your rival on the right gets five—five slices of pie!—a flight of pie slices.  You could be thankful—thankful for a reasonable calorie count—thankful no one could accuse you of gluttony.  But I suspect most of us would be crying foul.  It’s unequal!  It’s unjust!  It’s unfair—is what it is!

          But now let’s translate that turkey into talents.  A talent was a unit of money—a huge chunk of change.  One single, solitary talent was worth at least six figures by today’s standards.  Our English word “talent,” meaning “special aptitude or skill,” goes all the way back to this parable from Matthew 25. 

          A very wealthy man entrusted a treasure trove of talents to three servants.  One servant gets five.  Another gets two.  And the third gets one talent.  And, well, that seems unfair.  But this master knows his servants well.  He doesn’t give them more or less than they can handle.  He gives according to the ability of each servant.  He puts into their hands what is exactly right for each. 

          Do you also trust this to be the case with you—with what you have in your life?  Do you believe that your Lord and Master knows exactly what you can handle—and exactly what you can’t—and that He places into your hands exactly what is appropriate for you—no more and no less?  Either way, keep listening.

          After distributing his talents, the master in the parable goes on a long journey.  Amazingly, he leaves no instructions on what to do with the talents—no rules, no mission statement, no strategic plan, no thirty-page contract.  He just forks over a big wad of cash and says, “Now you take that and do whatever you think is right.”  This master refuses to micro-manage (or even macro-manage).  He just turns his servants loose with his money and skips town.

          Can you handle a God like that—a God who doesn’t micromanage your life—who gives you an abundance of talents and blessings without any stipulations?  Can you fathom a God who deposits His treasure into the hands of fumbling, failure-prone sinners, and then disappears with a promise—Surely I am with you always to the very end of the age?

          What would you do if you were one of those servants with all those talents entrusted to you?  Call your financial advisor?  Buy low and sell high?  Invest in some crypto-currency?  Start your own business?  Buy property?  It would probably depend on just how you viewed your Master—the giver of the talents.  If he were easy-going and forgiving, you might take a few chances and more risk.  But if he were a tight-fisted, unforgiving, Ebenezer Scrooge, you might play it safe and be more conservative.

          In the parable, the servant who was given five talents doubled his investment, as did the servant who was given two.  But the third servant took an extremely conservative approach with his talent.  He dug a hole and buried it—like a dog with a bone.

          After a long time, the master came back and settled accounts with his servants.  This is a preview of Judgement Day—the Last Day—when all accounts are settled for all eternity.  The two who turned a healthy profit are praised with a hearty “Well done,” and get to share in the joy of their Master.  But the third servant—with his unused, untraded talent—is dispatched to the outer darkness where tears always flow and molars always grind. 

          Now wait just a minute!  This is starting to sound like our salvation depends on our performance—as if works and profits are essential to avoiding the outer darkness.  Does this parable really teach that if you don’t grow your talents and post a healthy profit at the close of the business day, that you’ll be joining that third servant in the eternal unemployment line?  

          That third servant is actually the key to understanding the true meaning of the parable.  Why didn’t he turn a profit?  Why didn’t he do business or trade with that talent?  It wasn’t his money.  There were no rules on what to do with it.  He had nothing to lose.  So why didn’t he do anything?  Why take that shiny talent and bury it?

          Well, why do we?  Why do we refuse to trade with the talents God has given us?  What keeps us from freely sharing our talents—and living generously—and investing ourselves fully in the work of our vocations?  In a word, it’s fear—fear of failure, fear of punishment, fear of loss, fear of the future, fear that others will disapprove of what we’re doing.  Fear is the great paralyzer that prevents us from even getting off the starting line.  Servant number three even admits it: he was afraid of his master, so he went and hid the talent in the ground.

          That third servant is actually a picture of you and me living under the Law of God. The Law of God demands perfection.  And if you offend at just one point, you’re guilty and accountable for the whole thing.  The Law demands obedience, but it can’t produce a single good work.  It only produces fear and dread and terror as we look ahead to the day of judgment when all our works will be tested by scorching flames. 

          If you view God only through the lens of the Law—if your commandment keeping and your profit margins are the only way you can deal with Him—then you’ll wind up like servant number three: paralyzed by fear, terrified of making a mistake, stuck inside your sinful self.

          But Jesus Christ has set you free from all that.  What matters is not the abundance of your works, because they aren’t your works anyway.  They are God’s works, worked in you.  All your talent is just  “talent on loan from God.”  How can you take credit for something that isn’t yours in the first place?  What does matter—what matters more than anything—is trust—trust that Jesus Himself settled your account on the cross with His perfect life and death, so that you can venture it all in this world without fear of failure.  What matters is simply faith toward God.

          And here’s the kicker:  What was lacking in that third servant was not profit, but faith.  He believed that his master was harsh, demanding, and cruel.  And he got what he believed.  His “faith” was found wanting.  Had he believed that his master was gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love—that so long as you transact with your talent and spread around your master’s good name all’s well—well, then that servant would have gone out and boldly done business as one who had nothing to lose.

          That’s you—you have nothing to lose.  Salvation is yours.  Eternal life is yours.  The treasures of heaven are yours.  The judgment ends in Jesus, and Jesus was judged in your place.  Jesus came to earth to do business—to risk everything, to invest His very life and gamble everything to save the whole God-forsaking world, including you.  Though Jesus was the good and faithful servant whose every deed was “well done,” He became for you the Suffering Servant, bearing the sins of our wickedness and slothfulness and faithlessness.  Jesus became like faithless servant number three—was crucified and cast into the darkness of the tomb for us.  In fact, when Jesus told this parable of the talents, His own execution for us was just days away.

          Yes, our works matter.  Yes, it matters how we use and invest our talents on loan from God.  Our works need to be cleaned up.  The dross of our sin needs to be burned off.  The greasy fingerprints of our old Adam need to be wiped off so that we can clearly see that what we have achieved has really been achieved by God Himself.  Our works will be judged.  But we will not be judged by our works, but simply by faith in Jesus—who loved you and gave Himself for you—who defeated death to remove that faith-crippling fear.

          Your greatest “talent” is the very gospel itself—the good news that God has reconciled the world to Himself in Jesus—that He doesn’t count our sins against us—that this life is just a shadow of the life of the world to come.  That talent—the gospel—is placed into your hands to be shared and not hoarded—to be proclaimed and not kept private.  You know something the world doesn’t know:  God isn’t like Ebenezer Scrooge, miserly and cruel.  You know that the Lord is good, that His mercy endures forever.  He justifies the ungodly and forgives the sins of all who are penitent, for the sake of His dear Son.  The world doesn’t know this or believe it.  But you do.  You’ve got talent!  That’s your talent.  How will you make use of it?

          Look to the cross of Jesus, and you will see the God you have.  There you will find confidence, boldness, and freedom to use your talents faithfully, and so enter into the eternal joy of Jesus. 

          In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.