November 19, 2023
Rev. Mary Erickson
Hope Lutheran Church
Matthew 25:14-30
What Needs to Be Buried
Friends, may grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and Christ Jesus our Lord.
The parable of the servants and the talents leaves us with a very unsettled feeling. It falls under the classification of a Parable of Judgment. The parables of judgment carry a harsh tone. Actions lead to consequences. Other judgment parables include the parable of the wicket tenants; the parable of the royal wedding and the guests who won’t come; the parable of the 10 virgins and their lamps; the parable of the sheep and the goats.
Parables of judgment are intentionally provocative stories. They’re meant to jar the listener into new awareness. We tend to journey through our days lulled by the constancy of our rhythms. We go through the motions without thinking. We’re kind of like that frog sitting in the pan of water that gradually gets warmer and warmer until the frog can’t move.
The parables of judgment are meant to be the alarm bell awakening us from our stupor. They’re purposely upsetting. They mean to grab us by the shoulders and shake us out of our unquestioned attitudes and perspective. We need to let in the kingdom’s light, we need the fresh breeze of grace. The parables of judgment mean to startle us out of darkness and into the light of God’s truth.
In this parable, we meet three slaves. Their master is going away on a very long journey. While he’s gone, he’s entrusting these three with an enormous amount of his wealth. A talent is a staggeringly large sum of money. He entrusts varied amounts according to the capabilities of the slaves. The third slave receives only one talent. It’s not as much as what the other two slaves receive, but this is still a lot of wealth. The master has confidence enough in him to entrust him with one tenth of his wealth.
Time passes, and each slave makes decisions as to how to steward what has been entrusted to him. When the master returns, we discover that the first two slaves doubled the value of their investments. The master is well pleased with each of them. His confidence in them grows.
But then we learn that the third slave dug a hole and buried his talent. Upon the master’s return, he gives him back the same talent. Nothing more, nothing less.
And here is where the parable really goes south. The master is outraged at this third slave and exacts an unbelievable punishment. The slave isn’t beaten. He isn’t even sold off. He’s cast off into a realm of outer darkness!
So what’s happening here? Why does Jesus tell this parable? What is he trying to convey?
This parable is something of a tragedy in the classic Greek sense. The slave has a tragic flaw. The master had trusted this servant. He believed in his capabilities enough to leave him in charge of a sizeable amount of his estate. But the servant choked. It becomes obvious that the relationship of trust doesn’t go both ways. For whatever reason, the third slave feels differently about his master than the other two slaves do. The other two are able to respond freely. They feel a trust in their master. This enables them to venture outwards and respond in confidence.
But the third slave has a very different relationship. He lives in fear. This is his tragic flaw. He tells his master, “I was afraid.” And when you live in fear, you hunker down. You live small. You shrink. You never extend your actions. It’s about survival, you live in hiding. So when this man was entrusted with the talent, he absolutely withered inside. What if he goofs up? How will his master respond if he loses the money? So he buries his talent. It’s a tragedy. His fearful relationship paralyzes him. Out of fear, he hides his talent, just like Adam and Eve hid themselves in the garden.
The thing about Jesus’ parables is that they carry a tell within them. It’s the little nugget in the story that reveals the true thrust of the parable. The tell in this parable is the master’s response: “You knew, did you?”
“So you know who I am, huh? You’re so sure that I’m a harsh man? That I reap where I don’t sow?” What really pains the master isn’t that his slave missed an opportunity to make him more money. What bothers him is the lack of mutuality in their relationship. The slave’s words to him are like a slap in the face. He realizes that the slave doesn’t know him at all.
The reality is that the slave is already living in the land of tears and gnashing teeth. The other two slaves have “entered into the joy of their master.” But this third slave knows no joy. He dwells in the outer darkness, lonely and afraid.
Jesus tells this parable to shake us up about our understanding of who God is. “You knew, did you?” What assumptions do you make about God? How do you view God? Is God loving? Is God the source of all goodness and light and love? Or do you see God as a stern judge, all too ready to condemn?
This was a dilemma that was very close to the bone for Martin Luther. For years, he’d lived like this third slave. He was terrified of God’s judgment. No matter how hard he tried, he knew he could never measure up. He spent all his time sweating over his actions. He tried to make satisfaction for his sins. But nothing was good enough.
What did Luther think about God? He hated God! There was no love, no warmth. God was ready to squash him like a bug. How can the bug love the shoe looming overhead?
Later, reflecting on this time in his life, Luther wrote: “As a monk I led an irreproachable life. Nevertheless, I felt that I was a sinner before God. My conscience was restless, and I could not depend on God being propitiated by my satisfactions. Not only did I not love, but I actually hated the righteous God who punishes sinners.”
Finally, Luther had his moment of awakening. While studying the book of Romans, he came to realize that God doesn’t judge us according to an unattainable standard of righteousness. But rather, God is the SOURCE of righteousness. God bestows righteousness upon us through the actions of Jesus Christ.
In that moment, Luther’s relationship with God was transformed. He’d been living in the outer darkness, but now he entered his master’s joy. He wrote about it: “All at once I felt that I had been born again and entered into paradise itself through open gates.”
Jesus tells this parable of judgment towards the tail end of his ministry. Very, very soon, he’ll face his disastrous end. And in that final chapter, he will travel to the land of outer darkness.
• Gnashing his teeth, he’ll make his anguished prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane, pleading that this cup may pass. From the garden to the cross:
• And from the cross, he’ll utter his cry of dereliction, "God, why have you abandoned me?" He feels betrayed and deserted. From the cross to the grave:
• And then, from the grave he’ll descend to the realms of outer darkness, to hell itself. He will go to the place most removed from divine love.
When we interpret Jesus’ parables, we need to view them through the lens of his life and his salvation. And when we do, we see that the final verses of this parable are not at all about condemnation. We see, rather, that Jesus stands in solidarity with the outcast! Like the good shepherd, he goes to seek us out, in all our sorrow and anguish and isolation. In the garden, on the cross, and to the depths of Hell, he shows that there is no place so bleak that he will not go there to find us.
Jesus tells this parable of judgment to jar us into a new way of thinking about God. “You knew, did you?” But God is not a harsh soul, reaping where God doesn’t sow. There is the joy of the master awaiting us, awaiting us RIGHT NOW.
When we live in fear of a harsh, divine judge, we have no recourse but to bury our talent. But what really needs to be buried, once and for all, is the notion that God is anything less than the source of all goodness and love and life. There is no darkness that the light of God cannot overcome. Enter the joy of your master.
