What Are You Afraid Of?

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SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 2008
PROPER 28A
Matthew 25: 14-30 The parable of the talents


What are you afraid of?

Of ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggedy beasties, and things that go bump in the night…

What are you afraid of?

I’m afraid if I say how I feel, I might lose my best friend…
I’m afraid if I try, I might fail, and everyone will know I’m a loser…

What are you afraid of?

Losing my job… Not having enough retirement savings… Losing everything I’ve worked so hard for…
I’m afraid I might fall…
I’m afraid for my children… I’m afraid of the bully at school… I’m afraid of dying… I’m afraid of what the doctor might say…
I’m afraid …

There are some things we should be afraid of, like a hot stove. But too often we fear things we have no control over, or we fear the unknown, the “what if.”

Fear can be paralyzing. It can dominate our thinking and take over our actions.

That’s what happened to the third slave. He was afraid. Afraid of his master, afraid of failure, and so he hid. He hid not just himself, but all that had been entrusted to him.

Now don’t think that just because the master left him with one talent, that it was basically nothing. A talent was the equivalent of 15 years’ wages for a worker. Fifteen years he would have had to work to earn that much – assuming that as a slave, he would have been paid anyway. Fifteen years of wages, given to him freely without condition except the trust that came with it, and the expectation that the slave understood he was managing it for the landowner.

The other slaves in the story were entrusted with 5 talents and 2 talents, respectively. A lot more money than the poor fearful slave. Perhaps his fear extended to comparing himself to them. “Obviously they are the ones the master is really counting on,” he may have thought. “My part is so small, it doesn’t really count. Obviously the master doesn’t expect much from me.”

Perhaps the slave was afraid of the outer darkness, the weeping, the gnashing of teeth. And so he chose those things right up front, burying the money in the dark ground, gnashing his teeth in anxiety every time he thought about the master, weeping with fear at the thought of failure.

Finally the day came when the master returned. Calling the three whom he had entrusted with his wealth, he spoke with them one by one. The first slave had been entrusted with 5 talents – 75 years’ wages! – and joyfully reported that he had invested the money and it had doubled. The 2nd slave had a similar story with his 2 talents. A huge sum of money, doubled!

When it was the 3rd slave’s turn, he said, “Master, I knew you were harsh, and took the fruits of the labor of others … and so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground.” The master doesn’t deny or affirm the slave’s description of him. He just repeats it back, and draws a different conclusion, if that’s what the slave believed. “You believed me to be harsh, with high expectations? All the more reason you should have invested, and made something of my investment in you. Be gone, to outer darkness…”

But to each of the other 2 slaves, the master said: “Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.”

Outer darkness… Joy of your master… Interesting talk, isn’t it? Not economic language, not the dialog of master and slave, not business talk. This is “Kingdom of Heaven” talk, “Reign of God” language. It hearkens back to the introduction to this whole section in Matthew’s gospel. Jesus said: The reign of God will be like this…

The reign of God will be like this. All are entrusted with great wealth. Some will recognize the great trust that God has placed in them. They will recognize God’s goodness and generosity in handing over to them this great abundance, with only the expectation that they manage it as God would. They will recognize that God has taken a great risk, in such trust, and so they will do their best to do as their master would. They will do their best to live the God-like qualities of risking, trusting, being generous.

But some, (in this image of the reign of God)… some will not see God as generous, trusting, or good. Some see only a god to be feared. They live in fear of the wrath and judgment of God. They see only a harsh master, an exacting accountant. Instead of abundance and generosity, they see the possibility of loss, they see only a test which they will probably fail.
They pattern their lives after the god they believe in.

Last summer at the Lambeth Conference in England, the Archbishop of Canterbury invited the Chief Rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregations of the Commonwealth, Sir Jonathan Sachs, to speak to the Anglican bishops gathered from all over the world.

Rabbi Sachs spoke of different kinds of institutions and their function in society. Political institutions and structures are about the creation and distribution of power. Economic institutions and structures are about the creation and distribution of wealth. Religious institutions, in their true purpose, are about the creation and distribution of those intangible things that undergird society and make it strong. Things like love, friendship, trust, influence.

Rabbi Sachs said, power and wealth are zero-sum games. They are about competition, and, in the short term at least, there are winners and losers. In contrast, love, friendship, trust – these only exist when they are shared. And they actually grow, the more you share them. Rabbi Sachs calls these “covenantal goods.” The more I share, the more I have. And the more there is, all around.

And so, perhaps the Kingdom of Heaven will be like this: A wealthy landowner went away, and entrusted everything he had to his slaves. Some of them understood that this was a covenant of trust, and that, if they did as their master had done, they could not fail. Losing the original investment was impossible, because the more it was used, the greater it became, and the more there was. But one was afraid. Not understanding the covenant of trust, this one thought it was a zero-sum game. That losing everything was a distinct possibility, and it would be better to hoard and hide.

Jesus said that those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for his sake will find it. For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life?

This is Kingdom of Heaven talk, Reign of God talk, covenant talk. Jesus himself invested everything, completely emulating the generosity and riskiness of God, and by some measures he lost it all. Crucified as a criminal, alone, abandoned. But that’s not the story. This is not a story of losing. No – this is a story of risking everything and multiplying the investment.

Jesus did not fail – he returned to the master double, ten-fold, 100-fold – infinitely more than the investment entrusted to him.

He fulfilled his mission, and the master was well-pleased.

The resurrection, ascension to God’s right hand, and the ongoing life of Christ are the ultimate “Well done, good and faithful One. Enter into the joy of your God.”

Last week in her stewardship talk, Mary McDougall read a quote by Marianne Williamson, used by Nelson Mandela and many other people and places – including the movie Akeelah and the Bee. It’s worth repeating here.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small doesn't serve the world.
There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
We are all meant to shine, as children do.
We are born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It's not just in some of us, it's in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” asks the poet Mary Oliver. What is it you plan to do with the trust placed in you by your Creator, from whom all blessings flow?

What are you afraid of?


- Lydia Huttar Brown


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