Radical Stories, Radical Christianity: The Parable of the Talents

"Radical Stories, Radical Christianity:
The Parable of The Talents"

Matthew 25:14-30
February 18, 2007

“For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his
property to them; to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each
according to his ability. Then he went away. The one who had received the five talents
went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. In the same way,
the one who had the two talents made two more talents. But the one who had received
the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money. After
a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them. Then the
one who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five more talents, saying,
‘Master, you handed over to me five talents; see, I have made five more talents.’ His
master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy
in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’
And the one with the two talents also came forward, saying, ‘Master, you handed over
to me two talents; see, I have made two more talents.’ His master said to him, ‘Well
done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put
you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ Then the one who had
received the one talent also came forward, saying, ‘Master, I knew that you were a
harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter
seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what
is yours.’ But his master replied, ‘You wicked and lazy slave! You knew, did you, that I
reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter? Then you ought to have
invested my money with the bankers, and on my return I would have received what was
my own with interest. So take the talent from him, and give it to the one with the ten
talents. 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. As for this
worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and
gnashing of teeth.’

I don’t know how many of you are fans of pop culture, of TV and radio and magazines,
but one of the biggest cultural phenomenon’s of the last few years has been the
American Idol television show, which is simply a singing talent contest. Like a lot of
things musical, its actually a version of a British show called Pop Idol, I believe, and it
debuted about 4 or 5 years ago, and it has been a ratings juggernaut for the Fox
television network ever since. Some of the winners become big stars, others not so
big, but even some of the supposed losers become famous either because of their
talent, or because of their lack of talent. Anyone remember a guy named William Hung,
the guy who did a famous version of the Ricky Martin song She Bangs? You know, I’m
a pretty bad singer, but he, he outdoes me in spades, and for being so bad, he has
actually strung out that fifteen minutes of no-talent fame into a career of special
appearances in malls and television shows, including his music videos. William Hung
was part of that first season, I believe, and when he was sing She Bangs, he was
clearly serious about it…he really didn’t get that he was that bad, which was kind of
touching in a way. And the judges at that time weren’t as cruel, they didn’t seem too
mean to him at that point but in the past couple of seasons, it seems as if the cruelty
quotient has gone up a lot on the show, and people are almost encouraged to make
fools of themselves so that the judges, especially Simon Cowell, can mock them at the
end of their particular set. People have been really noticing it lately, someone has
dubbed it as the mean machine, where people are set up to be made fun of, and either
you love the cruelty of the judges or your cringe at it, but its become such a part of the
show now that there is nothing at all accidental about it anymore. The judges sometime
seem to compete with each other in their attempts to out-mean each other with the
contestants and its hard to watch, which is why I usually to go to the other room when
the show comes on.   And yet, its also fascinating, like when you see a car wreck
happening in front of you—you can’t take your eyes of it, even if you know the horror
that’s coming next.

And so too, I think, with our parable today, the last one we’ll explore in this sermon
series for Epiphany. It’s like watching a car wreck as it happens, and you have all the
elements of an American Idol episode—bad talent, ruthless words, and being kicked off
the show, into the world of obscurity—well, most of the times except if you’re William
Hung! This parable is an appropriate one to end our series on the radical faith that
Jesus preached to his earliest listeners, and it is one that keeps up-ending all of our
preconceptions of what God is doing in this world. Remember, we are still in the midst
of the parables of judgment, where Christ tells stories about what it means to be a
kingdom people, a people who surprisingly find themselves amongst the included, the
insiders, because of God’s choice to include us all, because of God’s choice to
embrace rather than reject, God’s choice to show mercy rather than judgment. And
yet, there is still judgment—not on the outsiders, which are now surprisingly few, if at
all, because of God’s choice to solve the problem of insiders/outsiders by showing God’
s self to us through this Jesus of Nazareth, through his life and death, and his life after
his death, in the resurrection. This parable about the talents is about us, yet again, not
about them—it’s about us not recognizing the gift we find ourselves being given, and
our failure to mimic the gift-giver, especially in the recklessness and risk taking that this
God shows us in sending us this Jesus of Nazareth.

We’ll get to how this is the case later, but I want to quickly look over the story again,
and note a few things. We know the story—a king goes away, entrusts some
investments to some of his slaves, talents is the word, though its money that’s being
talked about, and a single talent is meant to signify a large amount of money—
essentially, a talent is the wage of day laborer over some 15 years of daily work. In
fact, interestingly enough, we get the word talent, meaning a skill or ability, like singing,
let’s say, from this parable—“she’s got talent:” she’s been given a gift for song, or
business or math or writing, whatever. Two of the three slaves, entrusted with different
amounts, end up doubling their master’s money, while the third does the cautious thing,
and some of have argued, the responsible and wise thing, as probably understood by
most of Jesus’ ancient listeners—you wouldn’t want the master to cut your throat if you
ended up losing all of his money in some crazy scheme! Of course, the master comes
back and is happily surprised with how the first two servants have taken some risks,
and had those risks rewarded with a windfall, but he’s outraged at the words of the third
servant, cautious, and fearful, who has done nothing with the money entrusted to him
except to make sure it wasn’t lost—he didn’t even take a chance with the banks, which
probably was still a risky idea, since they weren’t FDIC insured like our banks are.

But there is an interesting picture here, of the master and the fear of the third servant
of his master, and how it dictated what he did with the money. Is the Master really like
Simon Cowell on American Idol—cruel and hard, like the servant believes, a man who
takes what is not his, and reaps what he did not sow? You could argue that Simon
Cowell is like that description, with the contracts the American Idol winners have to
sign—essentially giving most of their talent and time to Cowell and they reaping very
little in return financially, at least for the first three or four albums of their career. Is the
Master part of the mean machine? Well, to be honest, we don’t really know for sure. I
mean, its interesting that the only person doing any bookkeeping in this story, really, is
that third servant—he’s got the master in all sorts of scenarios of ruthlessness, when in
actuality, the Master will even settle for the rock-bottom interest on a savings account.
And its also important to note that these first two servants take great risk with what has
been given to them—for some reason, they don’t fear losing the money, and so I
suspect what these slaves have been given is something they are willing to be reckless
with, that they are willing to take risks with it, and yet they don’t fear not being able to
make a 100% return every time on their investment, or even 2% at the bank. They don’
t even fear losing all of it, like the third slave does. They trust the old adage that
money makes money, the rich get richer, over and over again, and these first two
slaves prove that point by what they do.

But what is this talent, this money, meant to represent in spiritual terms—what is it
meant to symbolize for us, and for those early Christians? Well, I think those talents
are meant to symbolize the grace that God has given to us, that radical grace that
made us insiders, one of the chosen, when before Christ, the chosen had been a
select nation with a few members. The doors had been opened and those of us who
needed five times the grace of most folks, well, we received it, all that undeserved
forgiveness and mercy, and while the master was away, we went crazy with what we had
been given, we were reckless in our forgiveness, in our love, in our hope in and for
others, and, as is the nature of grace, it doubled it’s effectiveness in this world. And
likewise with the second slave—less grace was given because less was required, but
even that guy was fearless in his sowing of that seed in this world—he too knew what
he had been given, and he knew that grace isn’t something you dig a hold in the
ground to preserve, to save, for some other point in one’s life. And ironically, I think it
was third person who was the one who needed less grace, less than the others—this
guy was a good guy, for most part, and he needed less mercy, less grace, because
there was less to forgive him of. They were all given grace, each according to their
ability to handle that great mercy, and the ones who needed it the most, got it the most,
and because they had been given more than they deserved, they knew they had been
given a great responsibility in their lives—they were more merciful, more irresponsible,
more willing to love the ones who didn’t deserve it, and to forgive more than seventy
times seventy that Christ asks of us as the bare minimum. It is amazing what happens
when you invest the grace you’ve been given personally into the lives of other people!

And yet the third slave, the good guy, the generally righteous one, who needed the
grace a lot less than the other two guys, he thinks that he needs NOT to squander it,
he thinks he needs to hoard it, in order to protect himself from the wrath the Master.
His life is lived in fear of the cruel master, the Simon Cowell’s of this world, and yet, the
irony of it all is that what gets him in trouble is his fear, his fear that he might lose the
grace he had been entrusted with if he dared to invest it in others, if he forgave the
wrong kind of people, if he loved the people that didn’t deserve it, as if there was only
so much mercy, so much grace to go around in this world, and so he was unwilling to
squander any of it, to risk any of it, less it go to the undeserving.

Its interesting, but I think his fears about his Master, and the Master’s supposed
ruthlessness—that’s all about classical psychological projection—he’s not talking about
his Master’s ruthlessness, rather, I think he’s talking about his own lack of mercy, and
his own lack of grace towards others.   He wasn’t willing to be fearless and reckless with
the gift he had been given, that grace he had been given—instead, he saved it, he
buried it away, as if God’s goodness towards him was meant to be buried deep within
him, untouched and un-given to anyone else but him. That alone caused what
happened next—out he went, into that outer darkness that Matthew loves to have
Jesus speak of, where their will be weeping and gnashing, grinding of teeth, in deep
regret. The grace is always there, and yet the only sin we can seem to commit against
the Master—the One who gives those in need of much grace the grace they need, the
one who needs five times more than most, and even those who need less mercy, two
and one times the grace, they get the mercy they need as well—the only thing that can
seem to cause us to be thrown outside the gates of the kingdom is when we don’t take
the talents we’ve been given by God, our gifts of mercy and grace, and give them away
as recklessly as they were first given to us.

The great challenge, really, for us disciples, for us residents of the kingdom, of the
realm of God, is whether or not we will be as reckless and irresponsible with love and
mercy and grace as God has been with us. No, I don’t mean putting up with abusive
behavior or violence, emotional or otherwise, or anything like that—but it is about loving
others right where they are, not where they need to be or where we want them to be. It’
s about offering mercy when justice would seemingly be the more logical route. Its
about being like the first two slaves, rather than the third slave, who’s hoarding the
good stuff in order not to lose it rather than investing it, trusting that the grace and
goodness will grow because that is what grace and goodness does naturally when
people are willing to risk planting them in the world, and into the people they love and
into the people they don’t. Its crazy stuff, but we’ve been included, you know—some of
us have even been entrusted with five talents worth of grace—and being included
means finding ways to include others, like we’ve been included by God.

For some of us, its too much to ask of us, to be as merciful and grace-filled as God has
been with us, and that’s why the kingdom of God is sometimes less full than it should
be, especially when it really does include all of us, at least to begin with. The good
news is that our job is to receive and give what we’ve been given—its not that difficult,
really, if we are willing to some chances on some people we would rather not, and love
the ones we can’t imagine loving. But for some, the mistake they and sometimes we
make, is that we think grace is meant only for us and our sins. Jesus has been telling
us about the radical world he is bringing about, and that world began with him and it
continues through each of us, who really know what we’ve been given, we who know its
worth, and we who know what to do with that love, that grace, that mercy, that we’ve
been given. Truly, “for everyone who has will be given more, and he will have an
abundance. Whoever does not have, even what he has will be taken from him.” I know
this: most of us have been given much grace, more than we deserve, and our job now,
is to give that very thing away to a world in need of people who are more interested in
being like God rather than being someone like Simon Cowell. Hard stuff, this grace we’
ve been given, but its still pretty amazing, and its worth being reckless and fearless
with, knowing that what we give away always come back to us, double, actually, if we
are to believe what Jesus says in this parable. Amen.