Saturday, 18 November 2017

Sunday Sermon. Matthew 25.14-31: the parable of the talents


Matthew 25.14-30

 

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.’

This is a really odd parable: did you notice that? Was there something in it that strikes an odd note - something perhaps that niggles at you whenever you hear it?

This is a parable that has several interpretations, although received wisdom tends to direct us to just one of them.

This parable is told as part of a long teaching sequence occurring near the end of Jesus' life and Matthew places it in the middle of a discourse about judgement which leads us to understand it in those terms and it’s usually interpreted in that way. A plot to silence him is already underway. The intensity and urgency of his teaching now seems to increase. It's almost as if Jesus is summing up. He alludes to his impending departure from this world and he cautions readiness in his followers. He advocates alertness and engagement in seeing that his work is carried out in his absence. He tells this parable. Jesus describes a Master who, as he is about to go away on a journey, summons his three servants, entrusting each with a portion of his assets. To one servant the Master gives five talents, to another he gives two talents, and to the third servant he gives just one talent.

Talents were considerable sums of money. A talent was equivalent to around fifteen years' worth of wages. I like to envision the first crowds gathered to hear Jesus teach - perhaps simple fishermen, herders, peasants - listening to this parable and imagining themselves taking responsibility for such vast sums.

 

As Jesus tells the parable, the servant given five talents invests and doubles his assets, as does the servant who receives two. Both took significant risks, both were aggressive. When the Master returned, both were praised, given even more responsibility, promoted, and invited to share the joy of the master.

But the third servant has a different story to tell. You see, he was a cautious, prudent man. He’s observed that the Master is a tough businessman and won’t be pleased if the principle is lost. So, he digs a hole and buries the money in the ground, which was, in fact, a perfectly reasonable thing to do if he didn’t wish to be liable for any loss. When the Master returns and this servant is called upon to give an account of himself, he says that he is able to return to the Master exactly what was entrusted to him. He can account for it down to the last penny.

 

Now, maybe he's expecting that the Master will be pleased that he neither squandered nor risked the Master's principle. True, no great gain was achieved, but no harm was done. The cautious servant must be assuming that the Master will invite him to join his fellow servants in entering into the joy of the Master.

But here comes the twist in the story that must have stunned Jesus' listeners. Jesus tells them that this prudent, judicious, sensible, practical, careful, cautious man was treated very harshly by the Master. Not only was his single talent taken from him and given to the other successful investors, but on top of that, instead of getting his invitation to the big party, he is unceremoniously banished. Who saw that coming?

The nobleman is usually taken to stand for God and his slaves become three models of discipleship: one good, one middling and one bad. The first two slaves are judged to have behaved sufficiently prudently in the way that they managed their master’s wealth and are rewarded appropriately. “Enter into the joy of your master” is generally accepted as I free pass to the Kingdom of Heaven while the third slave, seen as insolent and disobedient for having done nothing with his Master’s money, gets punished by being thrown into “outer darkness where there will be wailing and gnashing of teeth”.

The unit of currency here is a talent and that may be the key to the way this parable is traditionally understood: a talent in New Testament financial terms was a huge sum of money but talent in English also means a skill or ability. Now, a conversation about how we use our God given talents is never a wasted conversation: we would do well from time to time to examine ourselves in terms of the skills and gifts we’ve been given by God to see whether we are using them in the service of one another and to bear fruit for the Kingdom: we are merely stewards for the gifts God has given us. We don’t need to think entirely in terms of practical skills either. Yes, gathered here today we have people with obvious skills and abilities: musicians, cooks, politicians, public speakers, administrators and so on, but we must also recognise personality traits too. The befriender, the good listener, the analytical thinker, the inspirer of others, and such abilities also count in our personal inventory of what God has equipped us with and let’s add in time because that’s a great gift too. So, without hopefully labouring the point, we should all be able to recognise in ourselves and in each other those things which build up this congregation and our wider community to the glory of God – and if we’re not entirely sure, let’s ask those who know us well here, “What talents do you think are my God-given gifts?” Why not? The more challenging supplementary question – and we may not want the answer here – is, “Am I using it properly?”

The problem with this interpretation of the parable, though, is the way the God-figure is described by his last slave, “Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed.” We’re invited to decide to what extent the slave’s characterisation of his master is accurate or a slanderous self-justification designed to divert attention from his own failings. Either way, it’s hard to read this parable without experiencing some discomfort about the behaviour and character of the master. What if the master in the parable truly is an exploitative capitalist with no conscience where money is concerned and that’s how he was intended to be understood?

That changes the nature of the parable somewhat doesn’t it?

So, if the central figure in the parable isn’t intended to stand for God, who or what’s being characterised here? Jesus seems to be criticising the sort of exploitative greed of the wealthy and powerful. The master chooses faithful servants: faithful in the sense that they reflect his values.  How do we think the wealthy in Jesus time made their money? Simply by their – or their agents – exploitation of others. The parable seen this way is a critique of the social and economic values of the day; one which, in the light of all that we’ve been hearing and reading about our government’s problems with universal credit, the dreadful suffering caused to many in the way that disability benefits are managed and assessed and the prospects of tax-cuts for the wealthy, might lead us – should lead us – to use our voices as disciples in a prophetic way to stand up for the poor and marginalised in our society.

There’s yet another way of understanding this parable. Who are the usual targets for Jesus’ stinging criticism in the Gospels? Enter stage right - The Scribes. Enter stage left - The Pharisees. Some commentators believe that Jesus’ audience would have identified the third slave with the Scribes who were entrusted with the Torah, the word of God, but hoarded their religious treasure rather than investing it for the profit of the people. Other commentators go further and see the third slave as being the kind of pious Jew who, through meticulous observance of the law, lived out a policy of exclusivity that left Israel as barren as the fig-tree Jesus cursed and defrauded God in the process.

There’s a deeply spiritual element to this understanding if we, however reluctantly, are encouraged to see ourselves as the third slave who represents that pious group whose exclusivity and inward looking attitude was damaging to God’s mission. Could we possibly see ourselves in that way? Now we’re being encouraged to do some soul-searching of our own in terms of our own practices and the interface between our spirituality and our discipleship. Are we following a set of customs and practices which are not inviting to others and through which God’s grace isn’t being made known to outsiders? How do newcomers who come to this church perceive us? Are we seen as an open and welcoming congregation? Is the Spirit of God alive and well and flourishing here? Are others coming to faith or have we fallen into maintenance only mode? What is the nature of our mission? What is our role here as a group of disciples in this community?

Difficult questions but they need to be asked – as they need to be asked by every congregation from time to time.

So, we have three possibilities in this little nugget of a parable: all, I’d argue, are valid ways of discerning what the Spirit is saying to the church and what she may be saying to you may not be what she’s saying to someone else here this morning.

Are you being challenged to do an audit of your gifts and talents in the service of God’s Kingdom? Are you being challenged about your response to economic and social inequality in modern British society? Or are you being challenged about the ongoing mission and ministry of this congregation?

That’s the nature of theology.

Fun isn’t it?

No comments:

Post a Comment