Hard-Nosed
Matthew 25:14-30

November 16, 2008


For years every one of you have heard sermons about the talents, about how we should use our personal talents to increase our spiritual profits. When stewardship arrives, time and talent are often touted as our major assets. Lucky we speak English - English is the only language that seems to translate this ancient word for a weight of gold into this less intrusive characteristic. Let’s face it, money is usually more precious to us than our time and talent and skill.

First things, it is about money. The talenta each of the servants were given were not shiny little coins, a $1000 dollar bill, or even a paper cheque for a million dollars. It was a weight, a bucket full of coins, and only the strongest could lift it, around 75 pounds or 35 kilograms. You knew you had been given real money and in fact, you and I probably couldn’t comprehend how much money was really there or begin to know what to do with it. The second servant was given two talents; for sure, he had to make two trips. Then, what about that ‘poor’ fellow who was granted five talents? He needed a truck. He knew he had a lot of money, a phenomenal opportunity, and a daunting responsibility. Ask him about what time and talents he was going to use and he would likely laughed, for he has no time to waste and to sit around thinking about being creative. He had to use this infinite sum of money in a way that would do his master honour.

Second things, it is not about money. Many having read the verdicts in this parable have concluded that the spirit of capitalism did not have to wait around for the Protestant ethic. It was alive and well, and obviously God rewards the more talented investors. How hard you worked with filthy lucre would determine your seat at the Messianic banquet in the kingdom of heaven. But the kingdom of heaven is never like that - it’s not a question of how hard you have worked and what you have acquired - that’s the human solution - it’s how grace-full our God is towards us for we live in God’s world.

In the first century A. D., it was the common view that your wealth was gained at the expense of poor people. If you had a lot of money, it was money denied to someone starving. The ancient perspective that there was only a limited amount of good in this world was just common sense. Yes, these incredible amounts of money are Jesus’ typical literary exaggerations, but they were obscene accumulations that meant countless others were impoverished and starving. Those who possessed that much money should be damned, not praised. The servant who buried his one talent did not participate in this obscenity and should be the one declared a saint.

Third things, I bet you are now royally confused. It’s all about making more money, but making money destroys other people’s lives, and still does. We are confused because our ears have perked up to the intriguing parts of the story and we haven’t listened carefully enough to what was really going on. We haven’t really listened to the master.

The first servant has doubled his gift and today would be head-hunted by all the major investment firms, same for the second servant. The master replied to both with the acclamation engraved on many a tombstone, “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little, I will set you over much.”

No matter how much we talk about that amazing grace, we prefer to think we can earn our salvation by working hard and smart. Four and ten talents were not little matters. The ten talent guy received the worthless servant’s one talent as a bonus, so imagine what “setting you over much” would entail and be worth?

Did you hear that last invitation, “Enter into the joy of your master”? It’s not a throwaway phrase; it’s what this is all about. Both profit-making servants said it plain. You have given me a lot, I have added to it. They knew that this was an unusually generous master, and now they were entering fully into his generosity, because nobody who is generous can be without joy. Nobody who is genuinely full of joy can avoid being full of generosity.

Money can drag you down. I have heard two basic ways to promote stewardship in churches, promoted by experts in the field. One is for a member to give in proportion to how much you believe you have received in benefits from your church and its leadership. A consumer of religion you are and you give in gratitude and encouragement to keep being profitable. The other is to ignore the profits and genuinely give out of faith and hope for what your church can become. Faith is a risk, and for the faithful of Knox-Metropolitan this is a time of faithful risking, in which we dare not forget to enter into the joy of our master. The decisions we make around money, around our call to ministry in this particular place, is not a business decision at heart, but the result of a joyful heart at what God does here.

What happened to that third guy? From the first, it is full of bitterness and resentment. “Sir, I know you are a hard-nosed man, squeezing pennies you haven’t yet made and expecting a profit before the ink has dried. I was plain scared to take any chances, so I rented a safe-deposit box and put your money in it. Look, you’ve got every cent” (CPV). Keep in mind that this Master is assumed to be the image of God, so this fellow has decided how mean spirited God is. Hard-nosed comes from the same word as hard of heart - no room for gentleness or generosity. The Master recites these characterizations back to the worthless servant, “So you think I am an old skin-flint, eh?” God is Canadian, eh? There was no joy in Mudville, because the servant did not recognize joy even while others were laughing.

Near the end of C. S. Lewis’s “Chronicles of Narnia” Aslan the Lion takes the children to New Narnia, a place of astonishing light and beauty where everything is just so real in depth and colour that the mere sight of a daisy takes your breath away and makes you weep for its sheer beauty.

But then, in the midst of this splendourr, the children see a group of dwarves huddled together, convinced that they are sitting in the rank stench of a barn - a place so dark that they cannot see their hands in front of their faces. Lucy is so upset that the dwarves are not enjoying the New Narnia that she begs Aslan to help them to see. Aslan replies, “Dearest Lucy, I will show you what I can do and what I cannot do.” Aslan then shakes his golden mane and a sumptuous banquet instantly appears in front of the dwarves. Each dwarf is given a plate heaped with juicy meats, glistening vegetables, plump grains of rice, as well as a goblet brimming with the finest wine.

But when the dwarves dive in eating, they start gagging and complaining. “Doesn’t this beat all! Not only are we in this stinking stable but now we’ve got to eat hay and dried cow dung as well!” When they sip the wine, they sputter, “Ugh! Dirty water out of a donkey’s trough!” The dwarves, Aslan goes on to say, had chosen suspicion instead of trust and love. Prisoners of their own minds, they could not see Aslan's gift of the New Narnia for they would not see it. All Aslan can is leave them alone to the hell of their own devising.

Was the third guy one of those dwarves, a prisoner? You each have received a talent of God’s grace. The first thing is the joy of the master. Then it’s obvious how to use and spend your talent.

Preached by Robert Kitchen
Knox-Metropolitan United Church
Regina, Saskatchewan