13 November 2011

Zephaniah 1:7, 12-18
Psalm 90
1 Thessalonians 5:1-11
Matthew 25:14-30

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

One of the orders given to us pastors when we are ordained is to be diligent in our study of scripture. And as I was diligently studying this morning’s Gospel portion, I read in commentary after commentary, in article after article, a common assertion, one perhaps most succinctly summarized by Duke University’s Professor of Theological Ethics, Dr. Stanley Hauerwas: “No parable has been more misused than Jesus’ parable of the talents.” Scholar after scholar has assured her or his readers that this parable is most certainly not about money, not about our innate abilities, not about the protestant – or any other – work ethic. And it most assuredly is not to be used to justify capitalism or the so-called “gospel” of prosperity, or as the basis for a stewardship sermon. As to what this parable is all about, most scholars, having gored the ox, shuffle off to Buffalo without so much as a fare-thee-well, anxious instead to spill great quantities of ink over the parable we’ll hear next week.

One thing is clear, however: this parable is about a gift, ridiculously, extravagantly given. The master hands over these tálanta, not to his investment banker (perhaps a good thing), not to his family members, not to some trusted attorney, but to his slaves. That’s wacky enough – but the amount of what he hands over to these unlikely characters is even crazier. Don’t let the numbers of tálenta, five, two, and one fool you. One tálanton itself was worth a whole lot of money, somewhere between 75-96 pounds of silver. It would take 20 years of work at the basic daily wage of one denarius to equal one tálanton. Two tálanta, represent wages for 40 years; five tálanta, wages for 100 years. And each of these amounts was given to each slave according to his or her dynamic – whatever that might mean.

So, what is it that God hands over to slaves – that is, to people without any standing or merit whatsoever and and does so in copious, outrageous amounts? Forgiveness, of course. Sheer, unmerited, gratuitous, expansive, promiscuous forgiveness – and to each according to the dynamics of our lives. So – the slave that gets the outrageous amount equal to 100-years-worth of wages must have been quite the outrageous sinner!! Not just a little outrageous – but a hugely amount or degree of outrageousness – because even two tálanta, 20-years-worth of wages, is over-the-top outrageous – even one tálanton is outrageous. The third slave by comparison was just an ordinary, outrageous sinner.

Now the first two slaves take these wheel-barrows full of silver and enter into trade with them. They did something with the huge amount of silver they had been given. With the huge amounts of forgiveness they received something happened.  Says their master to them, “You went out and lived big, bold, over-the-top lives, lives as big as your sinfulness! Lives as big as the forgiveness given! Enter into the joy of the master,” they hear – which is perhaps redundant – because, you see, they lived unafraid – they trusted the one who had given them the outrageous gift of forgiveness – they lived big!

The third slave, still a big sinner to be sure, but not nearly as big a sinner as her or his fellow slaves, acted with – well, with fear. This third slave regards the master – obviously God in Christ Jesus, right? – this third slave regards God as some sort of cosmic ogre. Harsh – overly demanding – a perfectionist with absolutely no sense of humor! “So you think I’m a terrible, angry master, do you? You would have been better off keeping your mouth shut then. But what did you do? You buried the forgiveness in the ground – and proclaimed a thoroughly ungracious, unloving, mean, vindictive, avenging bastard of a god! If that’s the god you want, then that’s the god you get, you turkey, you!” Jesus sums it up for the crowd: “You trust in the God of grace – and you’re going to experience that God of grace – over and over and over again. You trust in a god of vengeance – obviously what little grace you ever do experience is going to evaporate like a drop of water in the noon-day heat of the desert.”

Now, I will freely admit that throwing this turkey who lived with a snarky god into the outer darkness where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth seems to be an act in direct contradiction to the proclamation of the God whose forgiveness is totally, unconditionally unmerited. But remember, this parable doesn’t stand alone – remember the rest of our story. Remember how one Friday, from noon to three, darkness came over the whole earth, and remember that gathered in that darkness upon a certain outer hill, and beneath a certain cross there was indeed weeping and gnashing of teeth. And remember that most particular voice that spoke from that certain cross and altered the cosmos for all time as it revealed the divine economy: “Father, forgive them. They’re utterly clueless.” Such an interesting way God has of paying back even those who really don’t like living in the light of a gracious God who promiscuously forgives sin, even the sin of those who wish the very death of a gracious, inclusive God.

So, fellow slaves, hear it and for you: All your sins are forgiven – and what’s more, all the sins of your neighbors are forgiven, too – no matter whether you or they be an outrageously over-the-top sinner such as I – or a medium outrageous sinner – or just a plain, ordinary, outrageous sinner. And no – none of us deserves any of that forgiveness – but you all have received it anyway, whether you like it or not. And now there’s nothing left for you to do other than to live great big, outrageous lives as the down-to-earth creatures God made you to be. You’re free to go out and prune trees and plant bulbs that will blossom in the spring, to rake leaves and to tend to your house plants – if you have any; you’re free to help your neighbor by paying taxes and getting involved in the secular order; you’re free to go outside and make angels the next time it snows, to enjoy good wine – even if it is from a box; you’re free to listen to some good music whether it be alternative, techno, hip-hop, reggae, opera, polka, Chopin, or Bach. You’re free to work with all people of good will to care for the earth; you’re free to get to know your Muslim and Jewish neighbors – and even a few Mormons or Fundamentalist Christians, or not; you’re free to phone someone you’ve been meaning to call; you’re free to go dancing, to play cards, or go to a movie, or shoot pool at your neighborhood tavern – and even on a Sunday. But you don’t have to do any of these things. You just get to. Honest to God, it really is just that simple. God’s grace really is that outrageously abundant.

So – you see, this wasn’t a stewardship sermon. Then again . . . . . . . . maybe it was. You figure it out.