"To Those Who Have, More Will Be Given"

Sermon preached by John C. Hall on November 16, 2008

Text — Matthew 25:14-30

14 “For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them;  15 to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away.  16 The one who had received the five talents went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents.  17 In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents.  18 But the one who had received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money.  19 After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them.  20 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.’  21 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.’  22 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.’  23 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.’  24 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;  25 so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.’  26 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?  27 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.  28 So take the talent from him, and give it to the one with the ten talents.  29 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.  30 As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’

To those who have, more will be given. From those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. Isn’t that a heartwarming thought? 

After the federal bailout, executives of AIG went on their now famous retreat and were pampered with $25,000 worth of manicures and massages. In the meantime Amazing Grace Food pantry has run out of plastic bags for people to carry a few grocery items home in.

But when it comes to interpreting parables, we need to be careful not to over-interpret. Parables are designed to make a single, very focused point. Don’t take this parable as an endorsement of slavery, for example. Don’t take the parable about the precious pearl as a plug for expensive, exclusive jewelry.

The other principle in Bible reading is this.  When you’re offended, when something sounds wrong-headed in a passage, it could be because it is wrong-headed.  There is some nasty stuff in the Bible. But sometimes it means you’re headed to the deeper message. This is how the Bible gets us to think in a different way.

So what about this parable of the talents? The master entrusts the servants unequally: 5 talents to one, 2 talents to another, and 1 talent to the third. A talent is a huge sum of money — 15 years of income for a laborer. But when the master returns, he sees that the ones who were entrusted with the most doubled the money. So they enter the “joy of the master.” But the guy who buried the 1 talent is cast into the outer darkness.

How do you reconcile this with what Jesus teaches in the rest of the gospels? This makes it sound as if you earn salvation — not just by works, effort, and good intentions, but by success.

Is that what Jesus teaches? The whole Christian faith is that we enter into the master’s joy, not by what we do for God but what God does for us. This is why Jesus dies on the cross.  God saves us by entering into our misery because we can’t save ourselves.

You have to sympathize with this poor guy who gets the 1 talent. He starts out as the underdog.  Why did the others get so much more to work with. 2 talents is 30 years worth of labor.  5 talents is 75 years of labor.

You can imagine how he felt: “The master doesn’t trust me as much as he trusts the others. He’s a harsh man, reaping where he doesn’t sow. I better not lose this 1 talent.” So he plays it safe. He buries it. He protects it. You can understand that. What’s wrong with that? If you liquidated your stock holdings a year ago or last spring and buried your treasure in an insured savings account, you look pretty intelligent and successful right now.

Why is Jesus telling this parable?  What happened to  “the meek shall inherit the earth” or “your sins are forgiven.” Or what about the Prodigal Son? The younger son squanders his whole inheritance on loose living and then slinks home where he’s welcomed, embraced, kissed, given a new robe and a feast.

Where is the mercy in the parable of the talents? The fact that this parable so blatantly flies in the face of Jesus’ general teaching is a signal to look deeper because here is a kind of safeguard or correction against a potential misreading of the larger gospel of mercy.

Yes, we are saved by what God does for us. But we still have to do something. We’d involved. We participate in salvation — our own and other people’s. What we do matters.

I think this parable is about risk — not financial risk, but sticking your neck out emotionally. We don’t like to stick our necks out. We don’t like to get our heads bitten off. Risk brings anxiety.  Anxiety is the feeling that something is wrong. Most of the time we try to minimize risk.

But in our spiritual lives, risk is inescapable and essential. Life requires us to risk. I don’t mean sky-diving.  I don’t mean gambling. I’m talking about the little risks in life, the emotional risks.

Have you ever been in a room full of people you didn’t know? If you’re here for the first time, right now you might be in that situation. That’s one of the most emotionally challenging things we face on a regular basis.  Introducing yourself to someone you’ve never met, even on your home turf, surrounded by people you do know, is risky.  You might get shot down. You might get your ear talked off. You don’t know what will happen. 

Have you ever visited someone in the hospital — even someone you know well? It’s anxiety producing. What are you going to find? Illness is scary. Hospitals are intimidating.

Many ordinary things make us feel anxious, and make us take a risk — that is, we decide to move toward the anxiety and through it, instead of turning away from it and running away.

Why do I think this passage is about risk? What’s going on in Jesus’ life when he tells this parable? He’s in Jerusalem. He’s about to be arrested and crucified. I would expect that Jesus was thinking a lot about why he was taking the risk of being in Jerusalem.

I think the parable means this: to risk nothing is to lose everything.

Put that way, the parable makes sense. To those who have, more will be given.  Those who have what? Courage and faith? To those who have courage and faith, more faith and courage will be given. Is it love?  To those who have the capacity to feel love, to give love, more love will come to them. Faith, love, and life itself can’t be secured, covered up, buried underground, or we miss everything.

Pay attention to your feelings.  Pay attention to your anxiety. Be conscious of those times when you need to move toward and through the anxiety for the sake of your own life, or for someone else’s sake.

In so many cases, taking a risk — an emotional risk — is something we need to do. It may not work out the way you hope.  It may work out better than you hope.

I’ll close with a slight paraphrase of one of my favorite sayings of Mother Theresa:

If you are kind, people may not reciprocate. Be kind anyway.

If you do good, it might not be appreciated or recognized.  Do good anyway.

What you spend years building up, may quickly fall apart. Build anyway.

If you give the world your best, it won’t be enough. Give your best anyway.