Homily for Sunday, November 16, 2014 Buck Mountain Episcopal Church
Here we are, just
about a month and a half from the end of the calendar year, anticipating the
holidays with a mixture of joy and dread, if the truth were told. The upcoming season is packed with
events of all kinds and far too many expectations. Please allow me to apply the
brakes and stop our thoughts from racing ahead to Christmas and New Year’s. In
terms of the calendar of the church, we are in a culminating phase. This Sunday
and next, which is known as Christ the King Sunday, offer us, through
scripture, some difficult guidelines by which to measure our faithfulness as we
close out another church year. The first Sunday in Advent—the first Sunday in
the new church year—will be November 30th. That day marks the beginning of a time that should be
characterized by quietness and thoughtful preparation, even though all the
department store displays suggest that we should have begun our holiday shopping
long ago.
Last Sunday’s
gospel lesson, as well as today’s and next Sunday’s, are all taken from Matthew
25. Even out of context, each lesson makes a clear statement of Christ’s
expectations for how his followers will live their lives. Taken together, the
entirety of Matthew 25—and what it says about social justice, generosity, and
love of neighbor—is a perfect and succinct summary of Christ’s teachings.
Various church organizations from different denominations and different lands
have called some effort of theirs by the simple name “Matthew 25.” For example,
in Indiana there is a “Matthew 25 Health and Dental Clinic” whose stated
mission is “Providing Free Medical, Dental, and Vision Services for Uninsured
and Low Income Residents.” The title “Matthew 25” is shorthand for Christ-like
living.
I am providing all
of this context because today’s section of Matthew 25 (verses 14-30) offers a
parable that can be hard to comprehend—and certainly hard to preach about! “The
Parable of the Talents” is ostensibly about how we are supposed to use the
gifts we’ve been given. Even so,
when the master castigates the third servant, the one who buried his talent
instead of investing it, we may very well feel sorry for the poor guy. After
all, he was cautious with the master’s money in a way that we ourselves might
be cautious. And he doesn’t steal it or lose it—he returns it to the master.
What exactly is his crime?
Listen
again to his own words: “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.”
Can you
imagine making that statement to your boss, much less to the Lord? In his response, it appears the master
is offended by these words of the servant, but it may be that the master is
more offended by his servant’s inability to understand what it means when he “reaps
where he did not sow.” If these words are a metaphor about the way the Lord
generously gathers all people into his kingdom, then the servant is guilty of a
grievous misperception. He sees
money, but his master sees what that money is capable of doing in the lives of
the people who need it.
On its most basic
level, the parable says that it is wrong for us to horde those things we
consider our possessions. Unpacked a step further, the parable calls into
question the very idea of ownership. The two servants who invested the talents
the master gave them and earned a doubled return were not investing for
themselves. They did not keep what they had earned but gave it all back to the
master. But the servant given the
one talent hoarded it, kept it close by him in a safe place as if it were his
own. He did not share it in any way that enriches God’s kingdom. Our gifts—our
talents—are not our own. We hold them in trust for the Lord, who expects us to
share willingly all that we have. Remember when He says, “If someone asks for
your cloak, give him your coat also”?
I wish there were
another servant in the story. This servant could be given five talents, and
then he, in turn, would give each talent to another person who would invest it
in someone else, doubling, tripling its value before returning it to the
Master. Today’s microfinance organizations, such as Women to Women
International, do this very thing. By providing small loans to poor women in
the developing world, lenders make it possible for such women to become
entrepreneurs. They, in turn, pass their blessings forward by financing other
women.
In 2006, Bangladeshi banker and
economist Muhammed Yunus was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for his development
of this microfinance concept, which, as the award stated, created “economic and
social development from below.”
Jesus would certainly approve of this Muslim who was later also awarded
the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2009 and the Congressional Gold Medal in
2010. As the Nobel Committee noted, “lasting peace cannot be achieved unless
large population groups find ways in which to break out of poverty.” Of course, Mr. Yunus did not leave it
to the poor to find their own way out of such poverty. That path is nearly
impossible for the very poor to discover on their own. He paid his own talents
forward by granting loans to people who would ordinarily be completely unable
to get a loan of any kind. Isn’t this sort of generosity the point Jesus is
making in his parable? Isn’t the
kind of trust in humanity that microfinance exhibits what Jesus gives to us? The
parable begins by saying, “For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned
his slaves and entrusted his property to them…” Christ’s journey followed the
road to the cross. The property he entrusted to his servants—his followers—was
the development of the kingdom. He entrusted his servants to multiply the size
of that kingdom by welcoming all others into it. And he provides us, the servants,
his followers and disciples, with all that we need to build the kingdom.
By
investing the talents and reaping the rewards for their master—the God of
love-- the first two servants have paid their master’s generosity forward. They
did not keep the talents to themselves, as the last servant did. The first two
servants earned their master’s trust. They have enlarged the kingdom.
