|
First
Reading
|
Psalm |
Epistle |
Gospel |
| Judges 4:1-7 |
Psalm 123 |
1 Thessalonians. 5:1–11 |
Matthew
25:14–30
|
A writer by the name of William Bausch once retold the parable of the talents in terms of an old Native American folktale. Following his lead, I would like to adapt it and put it in terms of a family today living along a rural back road, some miles outside Ithaca.1 They were poor, but nonetheless contented and happy. The adults held minimum wage jobs, but they also had a small orchard that gave them fruit and a few hens that gave them eggs. When their hours were cut or the hens didn’t lay eggs, one member of the family, who had a beautiful voice, would grab his guitar and lead the family in song. All their spirits would be lifted and they found that they were able to overcome whatever hardship they were facing.
One winter was especially cold and as retail sales were way down, their work hours were cut. They were not able to buy sufficient propane to warm their house and so they began to cut down the trees in their orchard. It was so cold that the hens would not lay at all and so they slaughtered the hens for meat. All were feeling low and by late February how they wished for a song to lift up their hearts. But the singer of the family just sadly shook his head. Because things were going so badly, he had not practiced and, therefore, the strings of his guitar became so brittle that they crumbled. “That’s ok,” they all said, “just sing out with your beautiful voice.” But when he tried to sing, only a coarse croak came out. “I didn’t think it was right to sing when we were forced to cut down our orchard and slaughter our hens,” the singer admitted, “so I have remained silent and now have forgotten how to use my voice.”
The mother of the family became quite angry. She confronted her son the singer and said, “It was necessary to cut down the trees of the orchard. The wood kept us warm and we will be able to plant new tress and have fruit again. It was ok to kill the hens, for we needed food and the hens would have died anyway, if not from the cold, then because we were running out of food for them, too. When business improves we will work more hours and eventually will be able to buy some more hens. But you, you had the gift to always lift our spirits. In times like this, you knew that your music and song would have given us hope and reason to carry on. You have wasted your gifts and have let your family down.” The whole family broke down and wept. It would be a long time until spring.
Jesus told his parable of the talents, not knowing about reverse swaps and repurchase agreements, and sophisticated derivatives. It wasn’t about attempting to accumulate more assets at all. Jesus was talking about the gifts of the spirit, gifts such as love, joy, peace, goodness, kindness, patience, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control. These gifts don’t increase by clever investing, but by exercising and using them. They are wasted by disuse. They are spurned and extinguished by distrust, suspicion, and selfishness. The lord who entrusted the slaves with the money wasn’t angry because the third slave didn’t make him any money. The lord who gave the talents was motivated by generosity, but the one who refused to accept the talent and hid it in the ground, buried the lord’s goodness as surely as he had buried the talent.
We have all had the experience of sitting for a length of time, and when we got up, found that one of our feet had gone to sleep, and for a time we simply cannot walk. That’s what happens when we sit on the gifts of the spirit. We get out of the habit of being grateful, we become bitter and mean. Our hearts go to sleep, and we can’t feel; our spirits go to sleep and we cannot be moved.
Yes, Jesus wanted his disciples to be the dancers of the Holy Spirit in society, to be those who exercised God’s various and wondrous gifts. It’s a remarkable thing, but God’s gifts increase the more we use them, the more we name them, and the more we practice them. Jesus was telling his disciples that in life you need to make a basic choice. Do you believe in an angry God who expects you to fail, who puts devious obstacles in your path and wishes you to succumb to discouragement, or do you believe in the good news I have shared with you? Do you want to be a dancer or one who distrusts the music and sits on the sideline sulking and suspicious? Choose to enter the dance and you will find the gifts will support you. You don’t have to worry about the steps. The music will carry you. The gifts will increase all on their own: some ten fold, some five fold. It doesn’t matter, for you will become the dancers of hope.
And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God, Amen.
1cf. Bausch, William J., Storytelling:Imagination and Faith,Twenty-Third Publications, pp.135-136
