Risky Business

 

Matthew 25:14-30

November 15, 2020

 

            As the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis come to a close, there is a scene in the book “The Last Battle” where Aslan the great lion shows Lucy and Edmund, two of the siblings who stumbled onto Narnia in the first place, the New Narnia. The beauty of New Narnia is indescribable. It is lush and splendid, and even the individual blades of grass seem to shimmer with glory. As the lions and the humans take in this magnificent sight, they see a group of dwarves huddled together in the middle of this beautiful and lush field.

            The dwarves believe that they are actually huddled in an old, decrepit barn. They cannot, they will not see the beauty around them. Their eyes only believe what they tell them to believe, so the gloriousness of the New Narnia is lost to them.

            Lucy feels the pain of their unseeing and begs Aslan to help them. Aslan tells her that he cannot make them see. But he does try to open their eyes. With just a shake of his head and magnificent mane, a feast appears before the trolls. Plates of wonderful and sumptuous food sits before them. In their hands, the dwarves now hold goblets of perfectly aged wine.

            The dwarves begin to eat, but even this feast cannot convince them that they are in paradise rather than hell. Instead of every wonderful food, they think they are eating straw and grass and garbage. They do not drink wine. They drink stagnant water from a trough frequented only by donkeys. Aslan has no power to open their eyes or their hearts to what is really around them.

            I wonder if the third servant in today’s parable may have only seen what he wanted to see and believed what he wanted to believe – much like these dwarves.

            If you are a close reader of the passage you have already realized that I made a decision to use the word “servant” instead of “slave,” which is what is written in our text. The use of the word “slave” by Jesus is just one of the many difficulties of this parable. I know that the context Jesus lived and taught in was different than our context today. The word, “slave,” had different meanings, different connotations to that original audience than it does for us today. But the reality is that we live in this context, and the impact of the bondage of human beings in our country is still all too real. So, I am making an executive decision and using “servant” instead.

            Sadly, however, making that switch does not make dealing with this parable any easier. Often when we have heard this story, we hear it as part of a stewardship sermon. God, who must then be the man in this parable, has given us a significant number of talents. We must use them, or we risk disappointing God, and look what happened to the servant who did that.

            Yet while we associate talents with things that we are able to do, special gifts that we have been given, for example, my son Zach has a talent for the tech work of theatre and my daughter Phoebe has a talent for singing, in this parable a talent was a sum of money. A large sum of money. One talent was equivalent to what a daily wage earner might make in 15 to 20 years! That’s a lot of talent, and it is a lot of money. One commentator estimated that combined, the property owner entrusted his three servants with approximately 1.5 million dollars in today’s money! 1.5 million!

            As I said, that is a lot of money and it is also a lot of trust. It seems to me that trust lies at the heart of this passage. The man entrusts his servants with these talents. Then he goes on a long journey, with apparently no hint as to how long he will be gone, when he might return, or if he will communicate with them while he is away. So, it is up to the servants to make the most of the talents with which they were entrusted while the man is away.

            The first two do just that. No sooner than the first servant had the five talents in hand, he went and traded them and made five more. The second servant doesn’t waste any time either. He takes his two talents and trades them making two more. I’m going to assume here that the first two servants knew that what they were doing was risky. It is also quite possible that they could have lost the original talents they were given, and wound up with nothing, or worse, in debt. But the property owner entrusted them, and they seem to trust him as well.

            Then we come to our third servant. Poor guy. He does not seem to understand how much trust the man has shown by giving him this talent. He buries it. He doesn’t risk trading. He does not risk investing. He buries the talent and waits.

            After a long time, the man returns. He goes to his servants and says, “Okay, it is time to settle accounts. I entrusted you three with so much. Now what have you done with what I entrusted you?”

            The first servant gives the man the ten talents, and the man said,

            “Well done! You have been trustworthy with a few things. I will put you in charge of many things. Enter into the joy of your master.”

            The second servant came forward and gives the man his four talents. The man’s response is equally as delighted.

            “Well done! Enter into the joy of your master.”

            Then our third servant approaches. Poor guy. He hands him the one talent, which probably still had dirt clinging to it from its long time in the ground, and said,

            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.”

            “Oh, you knew, did you?”

            There is nothing in the text to indicate that this man was what the servant said he was. There is no secret or hidden word in Greek that reveals that but is lost in translation. So, did the servant’s belief in the man’s harshness rest in something that we are not told, or is it that the servant was so afraid of messing up and disappointing the master’s trust, that he acted out of fear. And that fear became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Not only did his fear cause him to lose his master’s trust, but it also caused the man to act in a harsh, malevolent way. And the punishment that the master meted out does seem way out of proportion to the transgression. The servant did not lose the talent. He just didn’t do anything with it. The man still got back what was his.

            But remember when I said that trust may be the crux of this passage? The man entrusted those servants with so much from the very beginning. His willingness to entrust them with this much abundance was an act of grace. The first two servants acted on that trust. They trusted in return. They took what they were given, and they made more, much more. They acted in faith. They were willing to risk everything, and their risk was rewarded. But the third servant was not willing to take that risk. The third servant could not fathom the trust that was shown in him, and he could not trust in return. He was guided by his fear, and his fear stymied him. It paralyzed him. He buried instead of trusting.

            And yes, the punishment is harsh. But the stakes at this moment in Jesus’ ministry have never been higher. I think these parables are getting tougher and tougher to hear, to read, because of where Jesus is headed and what Jesus is facing.

            Jesus is just days away from the cross. He is days away from the betrayal of Judas and the denial of Peter. He is just days away from standing before Pilate. He is days away from hearing the crowds which once shouted hosannas at his entering Jerusalem shouting instead,

            “Crucify him! Crucify him!”

            The stakes have never been higher. Jesus knows this. He will soon run out of opportunities to teach the disciples and anyone else who would hear what it means to be disciples, what it means to have the kingdom of God in their midst. His last lesson for them will rest in God’s hands.

            The punishment is harsh because Jesus needs those who will hear to really, truly hear. You have been given an abundance. You have been entrusted with more than you can possibly imagine. What will you do with that? Will you take on the risky business of discipleship and dare to take what you have been given and do even more? Or will you let fear drive you? Will you let fear motivate you to do … nothing? Will you enter into the joy, the fullness of life with me, with God, or will you be cast out?

            And as for the casting out, maybe because of the servant’s fear, he was already there. He was already cast out. He was already living where there was wailing and darkness and gnashing of teeth. He was already living in a hell of his own making. Remember those dwarves that C.S. Lewis wrote about. They could not see the beauty, the glory all around them. They could not taste the wonderful feast Aslan provided. They could not taste the food or savor the wine. It was all terrible and nothing to them, because they would not open their eyes or their hearts to see what Aslan was doing all around them.

            Do you think Jesus saw the same thing? Do you think that Jesus knew that no matter what he said, no matter what he did, there would be some who let their fear blind them and deafen them and harden their hearts?

            I think so. I believe so. The stakes were high and the price of fear was to miss out on the joy and the fullness of life that God was offering through God’s Son. Jesus told all who listened time and time again that the business of discipleship is risky. There will be a cost. But Jesus was willing to pay the greatest price, so, please, please just listen. Open your eyes. Open your minds. Open your hearts. See the glory of God all around you. See the kingdom of God right here in your presence. Step out in faith, engage in this risky, risky business of discipleship, of following and trusting God as you have been trusted, and then rejoice when you hear the words,

“Well done, good and faithful servant. Well done. Enter the joy of your God.”

Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia.” Amen.