A Sermon for the Twenty-fourth Sunday after Pentecost

The Rev. Kristin Krantz
St. James’, Mt. airy
11/15/2020
Pentecost 24A/Proper 28
Judges 4:1-7
Psalm 123
1 Thessalonians 5:1-11
Matthew 25:14-30

 

Gracious God, take our minds and think through them;take our hands and work through them;
take our hearts and set them on fire. Amen.

 

Another week, and another Gospel story that fits into our Fall series of weeping and gnashing of teeth and outer darkness.

While most commonly known as the “Parable of the Talents,” this tale is in actuality not centered on the talents, but on the third servant, the master, and their relationship.[1]

That being said, it’s good to know something about what a talent was for context.  In the time of Jesus, a talent was an enormous sum of money. One talent was roughly equal to 15-20 years of wages for the average day laborer, which means the first servant was given a lump sum of 75 years of wages (more than they would make in a lifetime), the next 30 years (most of a working lifetime), and the last one 15 years (still a significant time).

Another way of looking at it is this:  In the United States the average salary is about $50,000 – so five talents would be equivalent to something on the order of 4-5 million dollars; two talents just shy of 2 million; and one talent nearly 1 million dollars.[2]

Either way you look at it – time or money – these were astronomical gifts. Yet we are told the master “entrusted” his property with them – with no other direction – and then went away.  Like is the case with many parables, there is an over the top quality to the circumstances of the story.

Because not only are we talking huge, unrealistic sums of money, but two thirds of the servants took that money and were able to beat the odds by doubling it in the market! Only the last servant took no risk, hiding the money by burying it in the ground – but both those choices were actions which set the stage for the return of the master, and the settling of accounts.

All of this being said, though, for Matthew, this parable wasn’t about money at all. Matthew put this parable as the second to last story Jesus told his disciples before the events leading to his passion, death, and resurrection.

Jesus wasn’t giving his friends last minute financial advice, he was again (like he had been all along) teaching them how they were to live faithfully in the world once he was gone. He was telling them that life, and living, is full of risks – but that if they trust in God and don’t give into fear, then they will continue to follow the path he set out for them.

It was the servants that took the exorbitant gifts and took risks with them – that resisted the fear of just trying to hold on to what they’d been given – that in the end entered into joy upon the master’s return.

Not because they doubled his money, but because they didn’t keep it hidden – because they lived like they really trusted God every day.

But the third servant didn’t risk or trust, and instead buried the money in the ground, as like in a grave. He acted out of fear, which he readily admitted to when questioned by his returning master.

He was able to return coin for coin exactly what he was given. But instead of living the way of Christ, he had let fear keep him from growing – just as it did the gift he was given stewardship over.

The servant that was driven by fear learned the lesson that the greatest risk of all is not to risk anything – not care deeply and profoundly enough about anything to invest deeply, to give your heart away, and in the process risk everything[3] in the trust that you will gain even more.

Because fear is powerful. It can spark in us a fight or flight response. But can also make us cling rather than let go – binding us to our fear. And fear never sets us free.

Jesus knew this. It’s why he told this story at the end of his time with his friends. He loved them, and he knew that his actions in Jerusalem had set events into motion. He rightly guessed that once everything shook out in the days to come they would likely return to their upper room to hide in fear. But he wanted so much more for them.

He wanted them to live lives of love, not fear. He wants us too to live lives of love, not fear. And so, he told them this parable to call them – and us – to a fullness of life built on God’s love every day, and in all our actions.

Because as early 20th century author John A. Shedd wrote, “A ship is safe in harbor, but that’s not what ships are for.”

Friends, God loves us beyond measure – more talents than can be counted. And God made us to love – abundantly and extravagantly. Doing this, especially in tumultuous times, is risky – the very definition of not safe – but this is our call as followers of Christ – and when we do this with our whole hearts, we bury nothing. Amen.

[1] Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 4.

[2] SaltProject Lectionary Commentary for the Twenty-fourth Week After Pentecost.

[3] Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 4, Season after Pentecost 2 (Propers 17 – Reign of Christ), pg. 310.