Parable or Prophesy?

The parable of the Talents is one of those familiar Bible stories that can easily become a cliche.  Today I took a different look at the story — one that is very contemporary.

Psalm 123; Matthew 25:14-30 

Extraordinary Opportunity

Let me ease your mind: this is not another stewardship sermon. I think it is very interesting that this “parable of the talents” appears in the lectionary during the time of the year that we are often involved in financial planning for the coming year. That makes it almost irresistible for preachers to use it as a spring board for encouraging bold and generous pledges to the church’s budget. But I don’t think this story is about giving money – even giving money to the church.

And I also want to point out another temptation for preachers:

the word “talents.” In the ancient world, a talent was simply an amount of money – as it happens, a very large amount. But it had nothing to do with the skills or special abilities that we think of as “talents.” Consequently, I think it would be an error to use this text to exhort all of you to offer your time and energy to the worship, program, and outreach that we share together.

Yet another homiletic temptation – at least until the last month of so – has been to see this text as divine support for a free-enterprise-capitalism economic system. After all, the servants who used the money to make more money were praised, while the one who simply saved the money was reviled. It sounds like a lesson that could have come from the stock exchange instead of the bible.

So if this parable of Jesus does not promote stewardship, volunteerism, or free-enterprise – then what is it about?

Consider, first, three things about this story. Jesus speaks these words, according to the gospel of Matthew, during the week preceding his death. The triumphal entry into Jerusalem (that we celebrate on Palm Sunday) was quickly followed by his overturning of the moneychangers’ tables in the Temple, by his impulsive cursing of a fig tree that had no fruit, and by challenges to his authority by the chief priests and elders. Not surprisingly, the stories that Jesus tells during this period, like the other discourses that are recorded, are dark in mood; many of them end with words of warning or lament. There is a sense of urgency about them that often takes the form of exaggeration.

That brings the second thing to note here: the amounts of money in this story are staggering. Scholars estimate that a talent was worth about 15 years’ wages. For a modern person earning the low wage of $6.50 an hour, a talent would be worth about $200,000; for a more skilled person, earning $17.00, it would be worth over half a million dollars. Unlike many of the parables, then, this is not a story about experiences that his listeners would have actually had.

Finally, notice that this reading is relatively long and repetitive, especially compared to the very brief parables of the mustard seed, the pearl of great price, and the leaven in the flour that we heard earlier in the gospel of Matthew. There is a kind of singsong quality to it, in fact, that makes it sound more like a ballad than a bible passage. This is a stylized story.

Now what we want Jesus to be doing here is to give us a lesson. Because of that we assume that the master in the story is God and that the slaves are people like us. We go along, assuming that we are supposed to act like one of the first two slaves – the ones who make the owner’s money grow in his absence – and not like the third slave, who hides his share in fear of the master. That works find until we get to the end of the story, and hear the harsh conclusion: “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.” [Matthew 25:29]

Suppose, however, that Jesus is not offering a lesson, but a lament. If this is a lament, then the master is not God, and his actions are not instructions about how we are to behave. Instead, the master is, well, just a master, and the slaves are just slaves. And the harsh statement about the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer is not a divine intention but a human shortcoming.

Suppose, in short, that Jesus is not so much acting as a teacher here as he is speaking as a prophet. Recall, if you will, another prophet, Nathan, who told King David a story much like this one.

David had seduced Bathsheba, who was married to Uriah, one of his generals. When she got pregnant, he arranged to have Uriah killed. Nathan was a prophet in the court of David, and he went to him with the story of a rich man, who had many flocks and a poor man who had only one lamb. When the rich man had guests, rather than butcher an animal from his own flock, he took the lamb that belonged to the poor man. Just as in the story Jesus told, it was the poor man who lost what he had.

David was outraged by the story, and said, “As the Lord lives, the man who has done this deserves to die; he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity.” And Nathan said to David, “You are the man!” [2 Samuel 12:5-7].

As I have said many times, prophets speak to articulate the consequences of what we are doing – not because they are fortune tellers divining the future, but because they deeply understand how the world works. Prophets are truth tellers who describe the patterns of cause and effect in human affairs that we cannot or will not see by ourselves.

And though it does not appear in this New Testament text, I think that we can nonetheless hear the voice of Nathan saying to us, “You are the ones.” We are the ones who tolerate a political and economic system in which the rich do get richer and the poor do get poorer. The gap between the wealthiest and the neediest Americans has grown substantially in recent years, and there ought to be weeping and gnashing of teeth over that fact. Why aren’t our lamentations louder, stronger, and more effective?

There is an extraordinary opportunity here, and it is not the opportunity to double our money. It is not the opportunity to support the stewardship drive (though I hope you will); it is not the opportunity to use your skills and abilities (though I hope you will do that, too); it is not the opportunity to optimistically and prudently invest in the future (and yes, I hope for that, as well).

The truly extraordinary opportunity is the chance to hear and heed the prophetic words that accuse us of letting injustice continue. It is the opportunity to follow David, and confess our complicity in the growing disparity between rich and poor. It is the opportunity to hear the lamentation of Jesus as our call to work for justice. It is the opportunity to do more than weep and gnash our teeth.

Amen.

Prayer for November 16, 2008

Almighty and everlasting God, creator of all things seen and unseen, hear now our silent prayers, as we open our hearts to you in the sacred quietness.

God of faith and hope, we bring before you our prayers for those we have named this morning – we especially remember … Bring to each of them the gifts of mercy and grace that are most needed, according to your wisdom and love.

God of all seasons, we pray this morning in thanksgiving and concern for winter spirituality.

We are grateful for the changing seasons, for the reminder that all of life moves in cycles that reflect our earth as well as our individual selves. We thank you for the particular stark beauty of this season shown in bare branches and brown plants. Help us to appreciate these early winter scenes, not for what they were or what they shall be, but for their presence in the present.

At the same time, we remember our brothers and sisters for whom cold weather brings hardship and not just inconvenience. Keep before us your charge to care for one another, and give us imagination to find new and compassionate ways to protect and empower those who are vulnerable and powerless.

We pray today also for the winters of our souls – for those times throughout the year when life seems as barren as leafless trees and matted brown grass, and when the spiritual weather feels harsh and windswept. When that happens, we cannot help but wish for warmer and gentler climes. But we ask that you would also teach us winter’s lessons of patience, hope, and forbearance.

Help us also to find the true blessings of this time: respite from the particular chores of the autumn, anticipation of the festivals of winter, and appreciation of the intimacy of being homebound.

All these things we pray in the name of the one who is our companion in every season, even Jesus the Christ, and we pray together now in the words that he taught us …