Matthew 25:14-30 ~~ 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. The one who had received the five talents went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. In the same way, the one who had the two talents made tw more talents...... After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them..... 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; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.'
It’s the story of a rich man who went on a journey and left varying amounts of his money with picked servants for them to care for. When he returned, all but one had invested the money and had good returns to give back to their master. The one poor soul was so afraid of losing it all and the master’s wrath if he should do so that he just sat on the gold and returned it to the master, with no loss, but no profit earned either. The master was not happy with this and things went downhill from there. And, as with many stories from Matthew, the emphasis seems to be on the punishment due when we get it wrong.
The second writing I’m using is from that great theologian, Erma Bombeck. In case you are too young to know who she was, she wrote a syndicated humor newspaper column about life and families in suburban USA in the 2nd half of the twentieth century as well as several books. Although she was a humorist, she could also be quite profound. Her take on this parable speaks to me much more than Matthew’s original version does.
She says, "When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything you gave me.’ " Bombeck stands in direct contrast to Matthew’s pitiable one-talent servant. She sees herself standing one day before a God she clearly loves and wants to have pleased with her life, like a child hoping their parent is proud of what they’ve done. “I hope I got this right. I did the best I could for you with what you gave me,” as opposed to the terrified servant who expects to receive nothing but rage from his master — and rightly so, since he ends up stripped of his job, his possessions, and thrown, weeping, into that outer darkness.
I don’t believe in Matthew’s angry God. The God I serve and hope to meet someday is much closer to Bombeck’s God. I freely acknowledge that I have screwed up from time to time in this life -- sometimes from cowardice just like the one-talent servant -- but when I get to the end I hope I can also say that I used everything God gave me. Maybe a little late because sometimes I didn’t recognize those gifts until after the fact, but I did use them.
Think about it. Throughout history fear has been used as an instrument to force people into performing in certain ways. Love and respect have been used to draw people into certain choices. Which one draws the best response from you? Which image of God speaks to you in a voice you want to hear?
Maybe we could all take time to look over our lives and see – honestly – what gifts God has given each of us to use. Have we done a good job, so far, in using the love and compassion, the wisdom and the courage God gives us? Are we using them freely or simply hoarding them out of fear? Are we using them the best way we can? Think about it.