A New Take on an Old Classic [Proper 28A]
The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson
Matthew 25:14-30
A new take on an old classic
The word “talent” is the worst thing that ever
happened to this parable. The worst
thing. To us – especially those of us for whom English is our
primary language – the word “talent” means an ability – an ability gifted to us by God or genetics for which
we are responsible. If one hopes to live
up to his or her potential, he or she must develop that talent – take the raw material and transform it, through hard
work and effort, into something useful.
Growing up in the Pentecostal
tradition, a tradition that opts for the most literal reading of the Bible
possible with little regard for literary style, the use of the English word “talent” in Matthew's parable, turned this story into a very
cut-and-dry allegory. As much as an
allegory can be taken literally, this one was.
And so I used to hear fairly often as a boy, “If you don't use your talents, God will take them away
from you.”
And that is a horrifying thought – especially
for a child. But, as a means to an end,
it is also an excellent way to get someone to do what you think they should
do. And so, it was often applied, in my
case, to singing. As in, “If you don't sing for Jesus, you are going to lose
that nice singing voice.”
Overlooking, for the time being,
the fact that using the Bible to terrify children might not be our highest
calling or what Jesus hopes for us, the problem is rooted in a misunderstanding
of the word “talent” in our biblical text.
It seems that the word “talent” found in today's English text was originally talanton in the Greek and simply meant a
large sum of money – maybe something like 15-20 years
wages for a low-level worker – a low-level worker like the
servants in today's Gospel. It was a lot
of money but that is all it was – just
money. But because the master in our
parable doled out the cash based on the ability of each servant, the word
talent came to describe, in the English language, “one's natural ability to do something.”[1] Give the talents to the talented – or something like that.
The “talent” to “talent” etymological history made this parable easy. The interpretation was built right in. And why mess with that; so few parables are
that straightforward. Overlooking all of
the other details of the parable – some which
should at least give us pause – this became the most obvious of
Jesus' parables. Something like this:
God gives us talents. God expects us to
use, grow, develop those talents. If we
don't use our talents, God punishes, in fact banishes us to the place of the
weeping and gnashing of teeth – which obviously is Hell. And so you better be faithful with your
talents, or else.
Which I guess, if we were to use
that same allegorical literal-ism, would make the inverse true as well: a good
use of talent earns you a place in Heaven.
“Well done, good and trustworthy
slave...enter into the joy of your master.”
We favor a grace-based system – not a “hard work
earns heaven” theology. And so, perhaps another look at this “easy” parable is in order.
I think a good starting point is to
look at this parable with fresh eyes – as if it
were not in the Bible and you did not know Jesus. What would you think if someone just told you
this story: There was an incredibly rich
man who decided to take go away for a while.
But before he did, he called in three of his low-level employees and he
gave one, let's say, 5 million dollars.
Another he gave 2 million dollars.
And to the third, he gave a million.
The risk involved is huge. You
might think at least one of the employees would be tempted to skip town. They were entrusted with more money than they
would make in a lifetime.
But they don't and the risk pays
off in cold, hard cash. Though the three
employees did not know it, this was basically a high-stakes job interview. The rich master gives no instructions but
apparently his expectations were insane: double that cash. Now what you need to know about this rich man
is that he is the kind of person who “reaps where
he does not sow” - which is to say, either he
steals from others or at least he makes his fortune exploiting the labor of
others. Because more than anything, he
likes to make money. He rewards the ones
who hustle and doubles the money. It is
not easy to double money without either crazy good luck or some ethically
questionable behavior. But money is
money and the ones who make him money are rewarded.
And then there is the third
employee. In ancient times, burying
money was known as the best way to protect it from thieves. And assuming the third employee was Jewish,
which I think is fair given the context, benefiting from the system of usury – benefiting from the interest earned on the debts of
others –
violated the Law of God. So what
he did was not unreasonable. He just did
not play the game. He didn't make money
but he didn't lose money either.
But the boss, the rich man,
punishes the third employee severely for merely protecting the principle
investment. And I think, it is worth
remembering that this third employee, the one he punishes, is also the one he
judges least able. And yet when the
employee fails to meet his unspoken expectations, the rich man utterly destroys
him.
If I told you this tale divorced
from its biblical context, you might think I was talking about the mob or maybe
an ultra-competitive hedge fund or Wall Street firm. You probably would not think I was talking
about the kingdom of God. You probably
would not think that the rich man was a stand-in for Jesus.
So what do we do with this parable,
yet another complex and problematic parable?
I think it helpful to acknowledge that parables were not meant to be
simple or easy. They were intentionally
challenging; Jesus says as much earlier in the Gospel. There are instances of Jesus speaking
plainly. He is capable of doing that. But this is how he hooks his audience, with
these riddles – full of hyperbole, and humor, and
absurdities. This parable begins with
the absurd: like saying to us the CEO of McDonald's walked over to the fry
station and handed an employee 5 million dollars and expected her to double
it. That's not going to happen. That would be absurd. The absurdities, and hyperbole, and humor, is
not always obvious to us 2000 years later.
And so we tend to use allegory and read the parables as morality tales – always starring God or Jesus in the role of Master.
The hard thing is: we're 2000 years
into the process of trying to figure these Jesus stories out. And there are many, many interpretations of
Jesus' parables floating around out there – posited by
a variety of very intelligent, earnest preachers and theologians. And three years from now, when I preach this
passage again, I might see it in a new way.
Jesus was clever; his parables keep working on us – each new encounter transforming us, changing us, each
new encounter forcing us to search for the Gospel message hidden in the story.
This time, this year, I think this
parable is Jesus' take on the ways of the world – told from Jesus’ perspective – the
perspective of an itinerant peasant. It
is not about talents – the ability kind, but about
talents – the money kind. It is a parable about money told to an
audience who would have related much more to the third slave than to the rich
master.
The pursuit of money is often an
all-consuming pursuit. Individuals
sacrifice family, and strangers, and morals, and values, even happiness on the
altar of money. We see it all the
time. It is relentless. In this parable the rich man values the
employees only for their ability to make money.
He takes from others; he steals; he exploits. When those in his employ fail to make him
money, fail to prove their value, he throws them in the trash – because money is what matters – not people.
And ultimately for all of our
desperate striving, for all of our obsessive work, money is not really that
important. At its best it helps us do
the work of the kingdom of heaven; at its worst it steals our souls. All the talents in the world can never get us
into the kingdom of heaven. And I think
that is what Jesus is showing us in this parable: how much effort we put into
money and how hard we are willing to work to earn the favor of even the
harshest of masters to climb the ladder.
But imagine, if you can, a movement
of people who pursued something else with the same vigor, something so much
more important than money. And so Jesus
becomes the anti-rich man – the opposite of the parable's
master. The parable then lays out a
choice – is it money or the kingdom of God;
a harsh master or the One who says “my yoke is
easy and my burden is light”?
In each parable there is a hidden
treasure – probably more than one. In this story is hidden the kingdom of
God. It is not found in an
allegory. It is found in the realization
that there is a kingdom better than the one for which we too often settle. The challenge is to take up the cause of the
kingdom of heaven and hear the words “well done” come from the lips of a loving master who traded the
riches of heaven, and the riches of earth, to take up the cross. The goal is to enter into the joy of the one
who loves you for you – and not for your earning
potential.
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