The Parabler’s Joy

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” [Matthew 25:21].

Depending upon how one defines Jesus’ special word gems, our Lord offers us at least 30—perhaps as many as 50—parables within the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke). Curiously, the author of the fourth Gospel, whose narrative style is considerably different, narrates none at all. To be sure, in the Synoptics, there are some duplicates. And even where the parables differ, they often express one and the same idea by means of varying symbols. An important 20th century parable scholar, Joachim Jeremias, suggested that about ten groups of parables emerge from diligent study [see Rediscovering the Parables, Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York, 1966].

One recurring group or “leitmotif” balances Grace and Judgment. According to Jeremias, “Over and over again Jesus raised his voice in warning, striving to open the eyes of a blinded people” [p. 127]. Christ is still doing that today. Thus, in last week’s Gospel lesson, “the Parable of the Wise Bridesmaids” [Matthew 25:1-13], we saw that ten bridesmaids were ready for the groom if his arrival was at the expected time; whereas only five were allowed into the banquet hall when the groom’s arrival was delayed.

This week’s Gospel reading, the familiar “Parable of the Talents,” Matthew 25:14-30, [the Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost (RCL, Year A)], forms another element within the Grace/Judgment group offered us by the great “Parabler.” And if we were uncomfortable last week with the door being slammed in the face of the bridesmaids who had to go buy oil for their lamps, we may feel even more so this week when we consider the plight of the cautious servant who cautiously buried his talent for safety. We’ve read and heard the parable so many times.

“For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them; to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away [Matthew 25:14-15, NRSV; note that some translations, e.g., NIV & CEB, “soften” the term “slave” by referring to the bailees as “servants”].

As we’ve no doubt heard in many a stewardship sermon, in first century Palestine, a “talent” was equal to a day laborer’s wages for 15 years. Thus, when “the man” in the parable gave the first slave five talents, he entrusted the servant with a sum equal to 75 years of basic salaries. That’s a load of loot. The second slave gets two talents, while the third is entrusted with what is still a considerable sum—a single talent, i.e., 15 years of wages. As you know, as a result of this parable, “talent” came into the English language in the Middle Ages as a term for God-given abilities, i.e., gifts and graces.

Back to the parable—a long time passes. Only then does the master return to settle his accounts. The slave with five talents has shrewdly invested the funds and doubled his money. Likewise, the slave with two talents has doubled his master’s principal was well. These two are lavishly rewarded with additional wealth.

Alas, the third slave buried his talent in the ground because, as he tells his master, you are “a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed” [25:24].

It is at this point that the parable offers the initial twist for those listening to Jesus’ words. On the one hand, the listeners have just discovered proof of the master’s generosity to the first two servants. Not only did he entrust them with huge sums without supervision, but he lavished even more on them after their success. On the other hand, the story has led the listener to be sympathetic to the action of the one-talent man in carefully hiding the money. To his—and the listeners’ surprise— the one-talent man is condemned for his fearful inactivity.

As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth [Matthew 25:30].

Perhaps he can sit with the foolish bridesmaids who were ill-prepared for the groom’s delayed return.

It’s usually at this point that our typical stewardship sermon turns back to us, reminding us that God wants us to utilize our talents, not bury them. That’s a common problem in our reading of the parables. We all too often want to concentrate on the “us-ness” within the story. What if instead we contemplated the man who owns the slaves? Who is he?

In many of our Lord’s parables, we allegorically equate the master or king in the story with God. Here, however, there is a second twist within the parable. For Matthew, the master is clearly Jesus. Like the Jesus who lived and died in Palestine, the master is the one who initially is present with his servants and then the one who departs, only to come back again.

When the Matthean community interprets the master as Jesus—the Parabler—they must change their mindset. Jesus, of course, isn’t a cruel and difficult slave-master; His nature is one of constant Grace and Love. The listener is, therefore, forced to view the Master as inviting his servants into a fullness, into an abundance of Grace. T’is the sort of Grace that is continuously offered by the Master to all His servants.

Jesus, already fully possessing all the talents, invites the first and second servants to “enter into” the master’s joy [25:21]. This statement hints at a radical reordering of the relationship. Slaves and servants aren’t entitled to enter into the master’s joy! But this master is different! To be sure, the servant is not elevated to a point of equality. But you see, equality isn’t the goal! The goal is JOY!

The joy of the master is the joy of self-giving, of sharing, of trusting, of giving one’s life up for others. It’s the joy of the feast, where the joy is experienced a hundredfold. It’s the joy that leads to eternal life (Matthew 19:29). Ah, but what about the third servant? What can be said about him? The Parabler’s judgment still seems ever so harsh.

As I shared this morning with the members of “my” Bible study, recently I was captivated by a point made by Saint Isaac the Syrian (613-700), bishop and theologian from Nineveh. Saint Isaac allows that, because of God’s infinite holiness, “God can only give faithful love” [Ascetical Homilies of St. Isaac the Syrian, Holy Transfiguration Monastery, 2nd Ed., 2011)].

There can never be an element of “unfaithfulness” in the love that is offered by God. Therefore, within God’s faithful love, there is always some level of judgment. Because this eschatological truth is known by Christ, the Parabler offers us all an invitation. His continuous invitation isn’t merely to accept Him. He invites us instead to join Him in the same sort of sharing and self-giving that He so willingly offers humanity. And so, in at least one matter, the Parabler turns back to us as His audience. Will we share or will we bury?

The Parabler teaches that some of us are unwilling to trust Him sufficiently to hear and accept His invitation. Those who refuse Him not only bury the talent; they bury themselves. Here, therefore, within the parable, the third servant isn’t so much condemned as he condemns himself to a life and a place that knows no joy.

There once was a man who was going on a journey. He summoned his slaves and entrusted His property to them. As one of His slaves, this is my story. And it is also your own.