Sermon for 11/16 (A few weeks ago, in advance of Bottle Bonanza Sunday, I mentioned that IF someone donates a jar of pickled pigs feet, I would spend as many dollars as necessary at the St. Nicholas Bazaar to hopefully win it, so as to then make everyone try some; well, I have it on good authority that we will have multiple jars donated for the occasion.) All that being said, I find it deliciously ironic that on Stewardship Sunday we can point out the origin of the word “steward”; it comes from the old English for “sty ward” … the ward of the sty … in other words, the person who tends to the pigs. Of course, the idea that a “steward” is a “keeper of the pigs” raises another question, but I don’t think God is taking a shot at us … although one of Jesus’s favorite ways of describing himself is as the Good Shepherd, suggesting that we are sheep, and I do know … that was never meant as a compliment. You may not believe this, but it really is a coincidence (to the extent coincidences exist at all) that this morning’s Gospel reading is given to us on Stewardship Sunday. I know that it was chosen by the bishops because it was the next to last parable Jesus told in Matthew, with only the one about the sheep and the goats to follow next week on the last Sunday of Pentecost season. Still, we have pledge cards to give out, ministries to Commission, lunch to share (with or without pork parts), and here our Gospel has Jesus talking about talents. We are told that a talent was a unit of money, although unlike a denarius, which we have on good authority represented one day’s worth of wages, there is no exact agreement as to how much money a talent was, other than that it was a lot, a sizeable sum, an investable amount. Even so, the story works just as well using the English usage of the word talent as representing a skill we have that can be utilized in the service of God’s kingdom. However, there are two problems with this parable, two things about it which can make us uncomfortable or distract us and move us off point. The first is that it is not about economics, or to the extent that it includes economics within it we have to be really careful about what we think it implies. For example, there are three characters, and each is given a different amount. Some people might conclude that means that it is God’s will that some of us are born into wealth and some not, and that we should therefore accept economic inequalities as providing a stable structure for society. This is not a common belief today, nor would one likely state it openly if they did believe it, but prior to 50 years ago, it was openly asserted more than we’d like to know. Also, it says that these unequal amounts were given to each “according to their ability”, which some have taken to imply something even more distasteful, that the rich are born into wealth or accumulate their wealth because they are simply smarter or work harder than the poor, who are somehow less intelligent or more lazy. The overall effect of the parable, then, could actually support the notion that the “rich get richer and the poor get poorer”, something we assert today as an indication of what we think is actually wrong in society. The reason why I would suggest that this was never an intended implication on Jesus’s part is that he told this same basic parable in another form in Luke’s gospel, but the differences in that one are significant. In that one each of three servants was given the same amount of talents (ten) and told to do business. In that one, however, one servant made ten more, another five more, and then there was the one who hid his in a piece of cloth. Let’s note the numbers. In Matthew people get different amounts, but the faithful stewards both make the same return on investment, one hundred percent, five bringing back five, two bringing back two. In Luke people get the same amount, but the faithful stewards bring back different returns on investment, presumably because of their differing abilities, one bringing back one hundred percent and the other bringing back fifty percent. When these two are read together, on the assumption that Jesus said them both and that it wasn’t the two gospel authors going in different directions with one story, what we can conclude is that the numbers weren’t the point; the point was the action of the rich man giving his stewards a job and them either doing it or not. (Believe me, I have studied commentaries to see if there could have been something in the two gospel author’s unique intentions to explain why they might prefer each version; did Matthew writing to a Jewish audience prefer to explain economic inequalities as being God’s will, while Luke writing to a Greco-Roman audience prefer to explain life as an even playing field and the rest is how we apply ourselves and … there doesn’t seem to be any connection.) So we come back to the basic idea that God gives talents, literally read as monetary, or figuratively read as aptitudinal (I think that is a word), and expects us to “do business”. But here’s where the second difficulty comes in. In both Luke and Matthew’s parable the person who hides their talent does so because “they heard the master was a hard man who reaped where he did not sow”. In other words, they heard that he was unfair. In fact, we should note that this third servant was honest and did not lose his master’s talent, but sought to protect it. He claimed he only acted out of fear of what he had heard, and here is the disturbing part, rather than assure the servant that he had heard wrongly and that he really was a kindly environmentally concerned justice oriented enlightened entrepreneur, the master not only did not deny that he was a “harsh” man, he confirmed it by declaring the servant to have been wicked and lazy. By saying that he should have at least invested with the bankers, he seemed to imply that even if we fear God we should do the work we have been given to do as our duty, oh … joyfully if possible, but begrudgingly if necessary; just do it. We must then stop long enough to ask if the behavior of the master in the parable is something that Jesus wants to commend. We must ask if this type of behavior is what Jesus expects of God’s people? The answer is strong “no”. If we doubt that, we should remember that this parable flows immediately into the next, which I alluded to earlier, the one about the sheep and the goats. We won’t analyze it in depth today because we’ll read it next week, but I think we know the climax well enough; Jesus says, “In as much as you have done it to the least of these, you have done it to me”, and the “done it” part refers to acts of kindness, mercy, and compassion. We are left with the uncomfortable realization that Jesus often used pictures of God in his parables that were, to be blunt, scandalous. He portrayed God as a sentimental old fool in the Prodigal Son. He portrayed God as an Unjust Judge who gave out justice not because it was right but because the woman coming to him kept nagging him. And here he portrayed God as a cold-hearted businessman who only cared about making a profit. Was Jesus saying that this was how God is? No, in each of these parables he used an unflattering picture to get across a deeper point about God. In the Prodigal Son, he was pointing out that God takes more joy in our repentance than in maintaining divine dignity. In the Unjust Judge he pointed out that God wants us to persevere in prayer even when we don’t see immediately in front of us the fruit of that prayer, that we should trust God and keep at it. And in this parable this morning, the essence again is actually not the profit, but the trust we show … or do not show. Again, look at the percentages. In Luke one guy makes five times what the other does, but that’s not what is praised. What is praised is that they “did business”. They risked. Indeed, it was not the skill or success of the business that was the issue at all, but whether or not the servant would try. Yes, trying matters. While we may get distracted by analyzing how much each servant received or produced, the key part of the verse comes before that, where the man “entrusted his property to his servants”. The word is “entrusted”. It means that our talents do not belong to us. Whether we have inherited them, honed them, sharpened them, or somehow developed them, they were all given to us. Yet they weren’t given simply as a business proposition. Here, servant, take this and complete your task. No, the word entrust implies something more. The master is trusting us with something that the master values, the graces we have been given; they are not given lightly, and we find that the opposite of trust is not timidity, but rather it is betrayal. One cannot have trust without the possibility of betrayal. Think about it; we can be truly betrayed only where we truly trust … by family, by spouses, by friends, but not by a stranger, and not by an enemy. At Stewardship time we are always encouraged to see our gifts, monetary and talentary (I think I prefer aptitudinal), as entrusted to us by God. We are encouraged to see our service in the Church, and to the welfare of society in general, as our giving back in thanks. I would like to add one more thought. It seems as if God views each gift we have received as sacred, specially chosen just for us to administer. Nothing could betray God more than to refuse to share that gift with others because we’re afraid God will be mad at us if we fail. In fact, it seems ever more clear that the very act of sharing, the very act of trying, the very “doing business”, is exactly what God wants of each of us. God seems to want us to risk … to (dare I say it) gamble with love! Profits schmoffits … it’s all God’s currency anyway. So shuffle up and deal. Amen.
Posted on: Mon, 17 Nov 2014 02:31:13 +0000
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