Introduction: Jesus continues to tell parables about the kingdom of heaven.  In the previous parables, he has told us that we need to be prepared for the Second Coming at all times. This is a story of being entrusted, and we can see the essence of faithfulness is more than just following instructions.

 “For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.” These words from Jesus at the closing of our text for today make me just a little uneasy.  Taken alone, out of context, my heart yells, “Unfair!” How fair is it for those who have nothing to have even less? How fair is it for those who have already to get even more? We live, today, in a society where the gap between rich and poor grows greater and wider all the time. Is it right for those who are poor to be showered with even more trouble, and for those with money and resources to be doubling their money time and time again?

We read in our newspapers and hear daily in the evening news about the economic crisis which is affecting the U.S. and the entire world. The top 10 percent of the American people now hold more than 70 percent of the wealth according to Gary Dorrien, who teaches social ethics at Union Theological Seminary in New York.  In his essay, “The case against Wall Street” in the Nov. 15 issue Christian Century,” he states. “Although we may not all agree with the protests of the Occupy Wall Street movement the activist groups are claiming that the top 1 percent  plays by a different set of rules and has made fantastic gains while everyone else falls behind.” 

I have to wonder, is this really Jesus advocating for such a system? Jesus, champion of the oppressed, the outcast, the excluded? Is this really Jesus, saying that from those who have nothing, God will take even more, and from those who already have enough to meet their needs, God will give even more?

But we can’t deny the presence of this text. Here it is. What do we make of it? I don’t think Jesus’ “parable of the talents” is intended to provide us with a formula for our personal retirement investments or congregational endowments. While it may challenge congregations that “sit on their assets” to make bold, creative, and wise moves as they seek to be faithful to the gospel, the heart of the parable is the challenge to faithfully and boldly explore and develop God’s gifts in our lives.

There is threat in this scripture, but the threat is dwarfed by the promises of abundant life. Will we sacrifice growth and adventure because we are afraid to take risks? If we cling safely to the status quo, what are we missing in terms of divine energy and possibility? The universe is moving forward, evolving and emerging, and so should we!

Jesus tells a parable and this one, as always is meant to describe what the kingdom of heaven is like, comes in the midst of a series of Jesus’ teaching. A man going on a journey calls his slaves to him and divides among them care of his property. One slave receives one talent, one five, and one ten, each, we read, receiving according to ability. In Jesus’ day a talent was a significantly valued coin. One talent was equal to 6,000 denarii.  The amount entrusted to the slaves is huge, implying a great deal of trust on behalf of the master.

The slaves who receive five and ten talents immediately take them, trade with them, and double their money to present to their master when he returns home. But the slave who received just one talent dug a hole and hid the money, and returned it to his master on his return. When the master returned, he praised the faithful servants for their stewardship of his talents, and said, “Well done, good and trustworthy slave. You have been trustworthy in a few things; I will put you in charge of many things.”

But when the third slave returned the single talent to his master, explaining that he thought his Master was hard-hearted and harsh, taking what was not rightfully his; the Master rebuked the man, and took the one talent from him and gave it to the one who had already been given ten. And so, Jesus concludes with that strange sentiment: “For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what we have will be taken away.”

What do we make of Jesus’ parable and his conclusion? Perhaps we are ready and willing to agree that the slaves who multiplied their masters’ money were to be praised. But was the other slave really so out of line just to return to the master what he had been given to watch over in the first place? What exactly did he do wrong? If we look closely at his actions and attitudes, I think we may begin to understand where things go wrong.

First, I think the slave has a wrong idea about whose stuff belongs to whom. When his master comes back to town, he pleads his case by saying, “Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed.” But the thing is, the talent was the master’s, not the slave’s. The slave is in the service of the master, and the master has given him charge of the talent while he is away, not as a something he is giving to the slave to keep, but given in trust for the slave to take care over. The master has entrusted the slave to work on his behalf in his absence, and coming to gather back his talents is gathering what he indeed did scatter and sow.  So the slave needs to remember what belongs to whom.

Secondly, the slave is stuck in a mindset of scarcity. He only seems to focus on exactly how little he has to take care of, instead of how much he has control over. Maybe, receiving only one talent when the other slaves receive twice and five times as much as him, maybe he feels jealous or inadequate because of how little he has in comparison. Perhaps that the others have so much makes him feel that the talent in his care doesn’t amount to much on its own, and doesn’t matter, and that the master won’t care much what happens to it. The slave behaves as if what he has is so little that it won’t matter if he just digs a hole, plays it safe and buries it. Instead of seeing what he does have, he sees only what he does not have.

I once remember hearing in a sermon on this text long ago, by a great preacher that “life is risky business; no one ever gets out alive!” The first two servants were risk-takers – they invested everything they had in order to secure a good profit. And, they succeeded! Without the risk, there would not have been the fortune. Sadly, the final servant was so afraid of failure that he buried his assets in the ground, neither gaining nor losing at the end of the day. While some of us may have wished that we had buried our investments in the ground in light of the recent roller coaster economic times, this passage involves more than dollars and cents or bricks and mortar. It is about our approach to life. Will we approach life with a sense of adventure and possibility and faithfulness or fear and scarcity?

The first two slaves had to take a risk, and have a little faith that they could take what they had care of and make more from it.  The slave with the one talent wouldn’t even take the risk of putting his talent in the bank where it could earn interest. He’s not willing to risk anything to gain anything.

I think we, in our own lives and in the life of the church, sometimes have the same attitudes as the slave with the one talent, not only about our money, but about all that belongs to us, tangible objects, and intangible objects like the gifts and talents that make us the people we are. We must remember, first, and above all, that the talents and gifts we have aren’t ours to begin with. We are so interested in our society in owning things and having things and possessing things. Financially speaking, we might even think it’s a bad idea to have things on loan, because we know that loans require repayment with interest – we have to pay back more than we took to begin with. We like to know that what we have is ours and no one else’s. But we have to remember that the talents given to the slaves in the stories aren’t really theirs to own. So it is with us - the gifts that God gives to us are ours only as far as we are stewards of them and use them faithfully and responsibly. We are stewards, or caretakers, of all God gives us – caretakers of creation, caretakers of one another, and caretakers of our gifts and talents. What we have – our money, our time, the things we excel at, our possessions, you name it – all of it belongs to God first, and is just on loan to us.  

I think we too, like the slave, think our resources are scarce instead of abundant. One of the things I worry about in the church is that we sometimes operate out of a culture of scarcity. In other words, we, like the slave, focus more on what we don’t have than on what we do have. I’m guilty of doing so myself.  I worry about not having more people in attendance on any given Sunday, which sometimes distracts me from focusing on the presence of those who are here. We worry about the money that we don’t have and the parts of our budget where we would like to have more, instead of focusing on the money that we do have and how we will spend it in ministry and mission and outreach. We worry about the positions we can’t fill on our committees instead of giving thanks for the names that have been lifted up and the people who have already agreed to try something new in service at St. Philip Church.   We worry about getting more youth younger people that are not here instead of celebrating the presence of younger people that are already in our midst.  Instead of seeing our church and the people in it and counting our blessings, we look around and get worried that we don’t have enough to be the church we want to be.  Of course we want more – with more we can reach out and share the gospel more. But we’re not without resources, and if we can’t look at our lives and our church and count the blessings we have – if we see only what is missing – then we end up not even using what is in our power, and we lose our chance to be a voice for the good news of God’s grace in the world. We are blessed with immeasurable abundance, and we need to start living like that’s the case.

And finally, we need to learn to be risk takers for the sake of Jesus. And again, I don’t mean just risk takers with our finances, but risk takers with our selves. Jesus never promises that being disciples isn’t going to be risky business. Some of us are more prone to be risk-takers then others.   

Do we encourage one another to try to avoid disaster; or do we foster an attitude of trust and faithfulness, of willing risk-taking for the increase of the kingdom? There are some who put the gifts into action. And there are some who, out of fear, doubt, or selfishness, choose to keep it all for themselves and fail to see that the gifts given are intended to be invested on behalf of others and for the common good. To these is spoken the word of judgment: If you try to keep the gift for yourself alone, you will lose everything.

And so, instead of seeing this parable as a preference to give more to the rich who already have, and taking from the poor the little they have, I see it as a statement where we are in control. How do you perceive what you have?  What does it mean to respond to God’s gifts or abundance in our lives with faithfulness?

Do you look at your life – your money, your skills, your things, your life – and think that you are lacking? That you don’t have enough to make anything out of it? Or do you look and think, “I can’t imagine how lucky I am to be so blessed”?  If you start counting your blessings, I bet you’ll find your blessings seem to be countless. And we, faithful in what God gives us, will find that God showers us with even more, so that our lives are overflowing with God’s love.

A story always says this sort of thing better, and I remember reading the story about one of the Desert Fathers from early, early Christianity, when people were driven by faith into the wilderness to live with very little material comfort but tremendous spiritual riches.  One day a young monk came to Abba Joseph and asked him what more he could do, since he was already doing some fasting, and some praying, and some work, mostly weaving baskets. The holy man responded the story goes, by raising his hands, and fire shot out from his fingers as he responded to the young man with this great challenge:  “Why not become totally fire?” 

The story stirs our spirits, but how well does it describe the faith of our congregation and the whole church?  Are we going along, doing some fasting and praying and basket-weaving, but not catching fire?  Is our faith life more about safety and reassurance and security, or is it about risk-taking and openness and courage, and the unimaginable abundance to which we respond with an attitude of trust and faithfulness?  Are we willing to let the gospel loose in the world?  Are we willing to take the risk of discipleship, with its dangers and perils? Are we willing to be a blessing to the world?  This is stewardship beyond money, a stewardship of the gospel itself.

Amen.