Talents, revisited

 

Our Gospel story for today is a very familiar one. It’s one of the ones we probably learnt in Sunday School. Maybe our teachers urged us to use our God-given talents in God’s service, and quite right too – we should.

But a “talent”, in the way Jesus meant it, had nothing to do with our skills and abilities. Instead, it meant money. Serious money. It was their word for the sort of money it would take the likes of you and me twenty years to earn, although of course the billionaires of this world would earn it in about ten minutes. That sort of money. And the master is going away, and gives very serious money to his slaves – five talents, two talents or one talent. And two of the slaves go off and go into business for themselves, and double their money. But the third one is afraid of losing it, so he buries it in the ground and gets on with his life. And then one day, the master comes back. And the two servants, who had probably got rich on their own account as well as making money for their master, come swanning up with all the trappings of wealth and power, and their master is really pleased with them. But the third one comes up and presents his master with the original money, totally untouched, saying “Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.”  And the master is furious with him.

Traditionally, of course, we identify the master with God. And in many of Jesus’ stories, of course, that’s exactly what we’re supposed to do. But in many more, the protagonist, the master, isn’t at all like our loving Father. I don’t really see God throwing out one of his followers who hadn’t made the most of their opportunities, do you? We might be asked to explain ourselves, but we would not be excluded.

Last week, we read the story of the wise and foolish bridesmaids, the ones who had thought to refill their lamps, and the ones who hadn’t. Again, the ones who hadn’t thought were condemned and left out. And, as one of our Sunday School pointed out, the others weren’t reprimanded for not sharing their oil, either. Again, does this sound like God?

And there’s the story of the unjust judge, who had no time for either God or man, but who eventually gave in to the persistent widow. Or the king who burnt down a city when the inhabitants had violently refused an invitation to his party – and who bound and cast out the one who came wearing the wrong clothes. Again, doesn’t sound like God.

So, what if the master, in this story, isn’t God? Back in the day, people who made money made it at the expense of others – moneylenders, perhaps, who charged an extortionate rate of interest; tax collectors who skimmed off far more than their fair share; the moneychangers in the Temple, who gave a really crap rate of exchange. That sort of person. And another thing – you weren’t supposed to accumulate such a horde of wealth as this millionaire apparently had. Especially not if you got it by exploiting the poor.

So we have this incredibly wealthy man. Perhaps in our day he would be an arms dealer, or a drugs lord. And maybe, when he had to “go away”, he was going to prison, or perhaps he’d made too many enemies and needed to get away for a bit, or perhaps he just wanted a long, long holiday; whatever, he gave his money to his servants to look after for him. And the first two are every bit as bad as their master, and carry on his business for him, doubling their original investment, and becoming more like him as the years go by. While the third servant decides that he will have nothing to do with this evil trade, and now is his chance to do something else with his life. Something right, and good, and proper. He doesn’t put the money in the bank, because earning interest isn’t something that good Jews did – Muslims don’t, to this very day, of course. And certainly not usury – excessive rates of interest. So no, he buries the money, which was a perfectly acceptable thing to do, back in the day, and goes and does something else. But he is honest, so at the first possible opportunity, he returns his master’s money – every penny – and at the same time denounces his sharp practices, reaping where he did not sow, and so on.

So, I wonder what you think? Could it be that the third servant, the one we’ve always been taught was lazy and dishonourable, was actually the hero of the story all along? He was the one who stood out against the dishonest financial practices. What if the other two, far from being virtuous types who made the most of their opportunities, what if they were just as bad as their master, out for all they could get, not caring who they hurt in the process? Maybe they, too, dealt drugs. Or sold arms. Or built sub-standard housing stock at vastly inflated prices. Or… well, I’m sure you can think of loads of ways they could have made their money that weren’t exactly ethical.

In John Wesley’s sermon on the uses of money, the one where he famously says to earn all you can, save all you can and give all you can, he specifically says not to earn your money in unethical ways – don’t get involved in moneylending or selling drugs, or whatever. And don’t hoard. Save all you can, yes, but give away that which you don’t really need. Just exactly what the master and the first two servants weren’t doing.

So if number 3 is the hero, what does this say to us? He was the one abused and cast out. But he did what was right, and when it mattered, he spoke truth to power – and paid a heavy price for it.

There have been many down the years who have done just that. Who have refused to conform to the standards of their world. Who have spoken truth to power, and may well have paid for it. I’m thinking of people like Gandhi, or Nelson Mandela, or, more recently Greta Thunberg or Malala Yousafzai. Those women who have spoken of the powerful men who have abused them, and maybe threatened them if they didn’t keep quiet.

Next week, we’ll be reading the rest of this chapter in Matthew’s Gospel, were Jesus talks about separating the sheep from the goats, the ones who looked after those in need and the ones who didn’t. I’m not going to get into that now, but it’s all part of the same thing, isn’t it? Doing the right thing. Not conforming to this world. Not behaving according to this world’s standards.

St Paul said that, didn’t he? In his letter to the Christians in Rome: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God – what is good and acceptable and perfect.”

Be transformed. Please note, it’s “Be transformed”, not “transform yourselves”. It’s not really something we can do for ourselves, it is something we must allow God to do for us. And it takes time. We know, from Jesus’ teachings, what God’s people are going to be like, what we ought to be like: not getting angry for no good reason, and not putting other people down if they are angry with them; not valuing others just for their bodies, or treating them as if they were no more than their bodies; not getting divorced for trivial reasons; not swearing oaths but being so trustworthy that “Yes” or “No” is enough; and so on. In short, they will – we will – treat other people with the greatest possible respect for who they are. We are not going to make a profit at other people’s expense. We’re not going to ignore poverty and suffering. We’re going to share at least part of our wealth with those in need, ideally through established channels like the Robes project or the Methodist “All We Can”.

None of this is easy, and I don’t pretend it is. But with God’s help we will gradually become the people we were meant to be. The people who have integrity, and, despite being afraid, despite paying the price, are given the courage to speak truth to power when it matters.

Of course, you may well disagree with this interpretation of the story, and that’s fine, too. But if you think – and you may well be right – that the heroes of the story are the two servants who took what they were given and made the most of it, then you will need to pray to be enabled to make the most of what you have, of the many gifts God has given you. Actually, we all need to do that, whatever we think of this story! And, too, we need to pray that, when and if the time comes, we will be given the courage to stand out against the world, to do what is right, to speak truth to power – and, if we have to, to pay the price. Amen.