Twenty-sixth Sunday after Pentecost

Proper 28A
Zephaniah 1:7,12-18
Psalm 90:1-8,12
1 Thessalonians 5:1-10
Matthew 25:14-15,19-29

This morning's Gospel is one that's troubled me for a long time, on two fronts. First of all, there's that landlord. We often assume the authority figure in Jesus' parables represents God; but the guy portrayed here-- a harsh, unforgiving, absentee slaveowner-- is a tough image to swallow.

Secondly, there's that fact that it's the guy with only one talent that the story picks on. I mean, really-- it doesn't sound like he had much to work with, does he? Who can blame him for being cautious? After all, one should be prudent, especially when one doesn't have much to begin with, right?

Well, maybe. but I learned something this week, that changes that image a bit. I learned about talents. Now, when you and I use that word, we mean a skill that someone has, like playing the piano, or drawing or some such. But back in Jesus' time, it was different. A talent was one way they measured-- it was both a unit of weight, and of commerce. This makes sense, when you think about it: the value of a pile of something will increase if there is more of it in the pile. So a coin's value, for example, would be determined by how much it weighed-- how much silver or gold it contained.

One of the most common coins we read about in scripture is a denarius. This was a basic unit-- worth a day's pay to an average laborer. One denarius, my bible dictionary tells me, would have weighed 4 or 5 grams-- a fraction of an ounce. They were small.

A talent, on the other hand, was large-- the largest unit of measurement at the time. Scholars estimate that one talent would have weighed something like 65 or 70 pounds. That's a pile of silver or gold that would have outweighed (two young parishioners) Elizabeth and Abigail put together!

Let's do the math. At roughly 70 pounds, one talent would have been equal in value to something like six thousand denarii. At a rate of one denarius per day, that makes a talent worth something more than sixteen years' wages.

Brothers and sisters, that isn't chump change. Sixteen years' salary, handed to you all at once?? Geez-- sounds like winning the lottery!

That puts a different spin on the story, doesn't it? Even the least of the slaves was given an amazing amount to work with. Enough that "burying it in the ground" was not a matter of scraping back a handful of dirt. This was not a passive action. The guy had to work at not using what he was given.

That's the way God's gifts work in our lives, isn't it? Yes, these can mean the ability to make music, or create fine art; but they can also include a knack for bookkeeping, or home (or church) repair skills, or simply having the patience to listen to and pray for others in the community. Whether the gifts in your life are the sort we usually consider as "talent" or not, I can guarantee you these things-- that there will always be someone around who seems to have more of it than you do; that you will still have more than enough to do some seriously good work for God; and that deciding not to use them is more trouble than it's worth.

Oh, and that cranky absentee slaveowner? It may seem, sometimes, as though God operates that way; I know I've had times when God seems unreasonable or distant, or both. Inevitably, however, what it turns out to be is my own distance, my own unwillingness to bend. "I will never leave you nor forsake you," he promises. We are adopted children, sons and daughters, and beloved heirs to the Kingdom; we can choose to walk away, but we will not ever be abandoned or cast away. Remember, Jesus "descended into hell" for us-- and came back, rather than leave us alone.

So, my brothers and sisters, I challenge you to think about those gifts in your life-- abundant, overflowing gifts of time, and talent, and treasure. Spend some time this week thinking how they might be used for God's glory. And then, don't stop there-- don't dig a hole. Take a risk: invest yourself, in Jesus' name.