Showing posts with label slave. Show all posts
Showing posts with label slave. Show all posts

Sunday, May 29, 2022

Living in Hope: A Posture of Christ

If, then, there is any comfort in Christ, any consolation from love, any partnership in the Spirit, any tender affection and sympathy, make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or empty conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,

who, though he existed in the form of God,
    did not regard equality with God
    as something to be grasped,
but emptied himself,
    taking the form of a slave,
    assuming human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a human,
    he humbled himself
    and became obedient to the point of death—
    even death on a cross.
Therefore God exalted him even more highly
    and gave him the name
    that is above every other name,
so that at the name given to Jesus
    every knee should bend,
    in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue should confess
    that Jesus Christ is Lord,
    to the glory of God the Father.

Therefore, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed me, not only in my presence but much more now in my absence, work on your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure.
--Philippians 4:1-13 (NRSV)

Grace, mercy and peace to you, from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Like Pr. Elisa last week, I’ve struggled writing this sermon this week. In the midst of all that has happened this week, which we will get to, it’s been one tiny little phrase in the center of this text that has troubled me much. It’s this phrase in verse 7. A reference to Christ emptying himself, specifically “taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness.”

If you were here last week and you heard Pr. Elisa’s sermon, one of the theological terms she talked about, one that I’ve mentioned before, too, is the term imago Dei. It’s a theological understanding, based on the creation account in Genesis, that we believe that each person, every human being, is created in the image of God. 

So, what - and this what I struggled with - what does it mean then when we lay this idea beside verse 7 in today’s text where, being born in human likeness meant - at least for Christ - becoming enslaved. What happened to the part about human likeness imaged from the face of God?

So that, among other things, has been my struggle this week. And, by default, it’s yours today, too. Whether you like it or not!

To try to understand this, we need to step back from this small part to look at the whole. These verses are the oldest expression in all of Christian scripture of who Christ is. We teach about this piece of poetry as another proof text of our understanding of the incarnation - of Christ moving from a place of equality with God to that of the human condition. Emptying himself to suffering and death, then to resurrection and restoration. It’s the heart of the Gospel - the heart of the Easter story for us who, on this seventh Easter Sunday, are now returning full circle back to that first Easter Sunday. It’s the heart of who we understand this Christ to be. 

But that’s really only part of the story of these verses. We know the social and political context of the Roman Empire at the time this letter was written. Those who ran the Roman Empire put up stone monuments to celebrate its power. These images reflect Roman emperors holding female figures by the hair, women with anguished faces and twisted bodies. They were not just simple statues celebrating emperors who were considered “sons of God,” but statues that celebrated the empire’s power over the people - men and women alike - that it had enslaved. 

This hymn in verses six to eleven is a rejection of this kind of power. It celebrates Christ as one who is in the form of God and equal to God. And, if we look at verse 6, which reads that Christ did not “regard equality with God as something to be exploited” - the Greek word for exploited is much harsher than our English translation. It means rape and robbery. In other words, this divine power that Christ held did not include the right to dominate. Or to subdue people. And, in fact, this Christ hymn argues that Jesus took on the form of a slave - of one raped and robbed and exploited. And that he was executed on the cross as a criminal - enslaved by empire. 

Domination. Conquest. Exploitation. All of these are contrary to divine power. The death and resurrection of Jesus rejects our human displays of power and violence by taking on the form of those who were the recipients of such power and violence. To show us a different way than violence, fear and death. A way of humility. Of self-giving. Of being open to the cries of those who are enslaved.

Which brings me to this week. 

It began on Sunday. Even as we carried the previous week’s events of Buffalo and Laguna Woods and, here in Louisville, the incident with the Christian Academy...even as we carried these events into the week, on Sunday we learned of decades of the abuse, particularly of women, in the Southern Baptist Convention. Decades during which their abusers were preserved and protected. And the voices of these women silenced. And, in the silencing, abused over and over and over again. Perhaps there is a reason God appears to be dismantling the Church (capital C) as we know it.

Then, Tuesday came. And with it, another mass shooting, the 214th mass shooting of the year here in the US. There have been 2 more since then. This, as you well know, was another shooting in an elementary school: 19 children and 2 teachers, each of whom we named today as we began worship. 

Do we hear their cries? Do we hear the cries of the voiceless in our world? The people who are enslaved by human displays of power and violence at any cost? Do we hear their cries? When will we begin to listen? And to act? 

This hymn, perhaps written by Paul, is not a theological statement, but an ethical statement of how we, who have been saved by Christ, are called to act on behalf of those who have been enslaved by the human condition - the desire for power and domination at all costs. To hear their cries. To listen to their voices. To reject the simple binaries of good and bad, or who’s right or who’s wrong. To experience and take on the posture of Christ. And then, to act. To become in practice what we already are in Christ. 

To act is what Paul means at the end of today’s text, when he speaks of the need for us to work on our own salvation with fear and trembling, to continue the work already begun in us by God. And, then, "to will and to work for God’s good pleasure" in a posture of Christ.

Because, if we are all in truth created in the image of God then every child gunned down in Texas is my child. And your child. Every person of color killed is my sister or brother. And your sister or brother. And every grieving family is my family. And your family. Because we are all connected, one to the other, created by God, part of the human family that God created in God’s image. And God’s good pleasure is that we act on behalf of our family. Our human family.

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,
who, though he existed in the form of God,
    did not regard equality with God
    as something to be grasped,
but emptied himself,
    taking the form of a slave,
    assuming human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a human,
    he humbled himself
    and became obedient to the point of death—
    even death on a cross.
Therefore God exalted him even more highly
    and gave him the name
    that is above every other name,
so that at the name given to Jesus
    every knee should bend,
    in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue should confess
    that Jesus Christ is Lord,
    to the glory of God the Father. Amen.


Preached May 29, 2022, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, with Third, Louisville, and New Goshen Presbyterian, Prospect.
Seventh Sunday of Easter
Readings: Philippians 2:1-13, Luke 6:43-45

 

Tuesday, September 29, 2020

Promises Made, Promises Broken: Love Withheld


When we left our story last week, God had promised to Abram that he would have as many descendants as there are stars in the sky. God made good on that promise, and Abram and Sarai, who later became known as Abraham and Sarah, became the parents to Isaac. Isaac married Rebekah, and they became the parents to Jacob and Esau. After this, their story gets pretty complicated. But, the thread of the narrative we will follow is the one where Jacob, who is also known as Israel, becomes the father to twelve sons and one daughter, living in the land of Canaan. Jacob’s youngest son is Joseph. Our story begins in Genesis, chapter 37. 

Now Israel loved Joseph more than any of his other sons because he was born when Jacob was old. Jacob had made for him a long robe. When his brothers saw that their father loved him more than any of his brothers, they hated him and couldn’t even talk nicely to him.

Joseph had a dream and told it to his brothers, which made them hate him even more. He said to them, “Listen to this dream I had. When we were binding stalks of grain in the field, my stalk got up and stood upright, while your stalks gathered around it and bowed down to my stalk.”

His brothers said to him, “Will you really be our king and rule over us?” So they hated him even more because of the dreams he told them.

Joseph had several dreams like this. In fact, they were visions. These dreams did not win him any love from his brothers. Yet, Joseph remained his father’s favorite. One day, Jacob sent him - his favorite son - to go check on his other sons as they pastured the flocks. One of Joseph’s eleven brothers was Reuben. 

Joseph went after his brothers and found them in Dothan.

They saw Joseph in the distance before he got close to them, and they plotted to kill him. The brothers said to each other, “Here comes the big dreamer. Come on now, let’s kill him and throw him into one of the cisterns, and we’ll say a wild animal devoured him. Then we will see what becomes of his dreams!”

When Reuben heard what they said, he saved him from them, telling them, “Let’s not take his life.” Reuben said to them, “Don’t spill his blood! Throw him into this desert cistern, but don’t lay a hand on him.” He intended to save Joseph from them and take him back to his father.

The brothers threw Joseph into a pit. Then, they sat down to eat and to contemplate what to do with him next. Another of Joseph’s brothers was Judah.

Judah said to his brothers, “What do we gain if we kill our brother and hide his blood? Come on, let’s sell him to the Ishmaelites. Let’s not harm him because he’s our brother; he’s family.” His brothers agreed. When some Midianite traders passed by, they pulled Joseph up out of the cistern. They sold him to the Ishmaelites for twenty pieces of silver, and they brought Joseph to Egypt.

When Reuben returned to the cistern and found that Joseph wasn’t in it, he tore his clothes. Then he returned to his brothers and said, “The boy’s gone! And I—where can I go now?”

His brothers took Joseph’s robe, slaughtered a male goat, and dipped the robe in the blood. They took the long robe, brought it to their father, [Jacob] and said, “We found this. See if it’s your son’s robe or not.”

He recognized it and said, “It’s my son’s robe! A wild animal has devoured him. Joseph must have been torn to pieces!” Then Jacob tore his clothes, put a simple mourning cloth around his waist, and mourned for his son for many days.

Though his brothers and their father, Jacob, thought he was dead, Joseph had actually been taken to Egypt. There he was sold and kept as a slave. Yet, over time, his master saw that the Lord was with him and placed him into a position of responsibility. Joseph was very successful at all that he did. He became very powerful as an interpreter of dreams and, eventually, came to be in the service of Pharaoh, the king of Egypt. 

The dreams Joseph interpreted for Pharaoh came true. The first seven years in Egypt were plentiful and Joseph, working as Pharaoh’s assistant was able to store up grain and other produce abundantly. But, then, as Joseph had predicted, a famine came to the land. This famine, which lasted seven years, also affected Canaan. Joseph’s brothers, hearing that there was grain in Egypt, traveled there, hoping to keep their families alive. They came into Joseph’s presence, but did not recognize him in his position of power, even though Joseph recognized them. Eventually, Joseph revealed himself to his brothers. And he shared that God had sent him ahead of them to help them through this terrible famine. When Jacob heard that his beloved youngest son was alive, he packed up and brought his entire family to Egypt for the reunion of a lifetime. Jacob was able to die in peace and his remains were taken back to Canaan for burial, as he had requested. Our reading continues in Genesis, chapter 50.

When Joseph’s brothers realized that their father was now dead, they said, “What if Joseph bears a grudge against us, and wants to pay us back seriously for all of the terrible things we did to him?” 

So they approached Joseph and said, “Your father gave orders before he died, telling us, ‘This is what you should say to Joseph. “Please, forgive your brothers’ sins and misdeeds, for they did terrible things to you. Now, please forgive the sins of the servants of your father’s God.”’” Joseph wept when they spoke to him.

His brothers wept too, fell down in front of him, and said, “We’re here as your slaves.”

But Joseph said to them, “Don’t be afraid. Am I God? You planned something bad for me, but God produced something good from it, in order to save the lives of many people, just as he’s doing today. Now, don’t be afraid. I will take care of you and your children.” So he put them at ease and spoke reassuringly to them. --Genesis 37:3-8, 17b-22, 26-34; 50:15-21 (CEB)

As I’ve been reflecting on this story of Joseph and his brothers over the past week, I think we simply need to acknowledge at this point that this is a horrifying story. There is what seems to be the deepest of hatred and evil at work. It’s a story of the harm love can cause, when love is given abundantly to some and more scarcely to others. Because it seems that everything begins with the favoritism shown by Jacob to his youngest son, Joseph. This story shows the damage that can come when one is loved more than others. 

And, yet, Joseph’s brothers are not blameless. Not at all. Even jerks do not deserve to be thrown into a pit to die, much less sold into slavery. Brothers selling brother. It’s almost unimaginable, isn’t it? And, yet, we see it in families, perhaps to some degree, even in our own families - what happens when love is given unequally. And we can even look more broadly than our families. All we need do is notice what has been happening in our own city this past week. As we witness the result of a people not loved equally, not given the privileges of others, not experiencing justice in the same way as others. As those of us who are white. 

Love withheld. Or love given out in unequal measure causes harm. Results in evil. Brings death. In so many ways.

At the end of this story, after Jacob has died and his remains have been taken back to Canaan for burial and after Joseph and his brothers return to Egypt, we see how the power dynamic has shifted. No longer is Joseph at risk of being harmed by his brothers. No longer is Joseph the weaker brother. No longer is Joseph afraid of his brothers. They are afraid of him. They are afraid of what he might do. Because the evil they perpetuated has bound them all of these years, just as it had bound their father to his grief. This one evil act bound them to the guilt of what they had done and the potential fear of what might now happen to them. Joseph held their very lives in his hands.

I wonder, if we were Joseph, what our response might have been? All those years of slavery. The grief of losing his family and being torn away from his father. To strike out against them - to pay them back for their evil act - would have been justified. I wonder, if we were Joseph, what our response might have been?

But, Joseph doesn’t. Because he has the broader vision. Just like in our story last week in which God showed Abraham, Joseph’s grandfather, a broader vision, Joseph, the dreamer, has that vision. That he has been blessed to be a blessing. So, his response, when his brothers come to him begging for his forgiveness is to forgive. And that, my friends, is where redemption happens and the unbinding begins.  

What will it take for redemption to happen in our broken families? For the unbinding to begin in our broken city? In our broken world? 

In their public statement this week, issued after the decision in the Breonna Taylor shooting, Bishop Eaton and Bishop Gafjken said it best. “Our baptismal covenant with God calls us to better relationship with one another...We are called to be the hands and feet of Christ’s presence in the world. The covenantal relationship we have with God in Christ leads us to our neighbors in a common cause to confront the reality of systemic racism [or any other ism] in our country. We come together at the cross.” 

We come together at the cross. Because it is at the cross where we meet Jesus, the One who reconciles. It is at the cross where we meet Jesus, the One who shows us God’s vision in flesh and blood. It is at the cross where we meet Jesus, the One who unbinds us. And it is at the cross where we meet Jesus, the One who teaches us that, even in the most evil of situations, God will reckon it for good. 

Because of this One, we have peace. We have hope. We are loved. Amen.

Preached September 27, 2020 online at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Pentecost 17
Readings: Genesis 37:3-8, 17b-22, 26-34; 50:15-21; Luke 6:27-36



Sunday, March 8, 2020

The Call to Serve: Amazed and Afraid

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God, our Father, and from Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior. Amen.

Amazed and afraid. This is how our text opens today. The disciples are amazed and afraid.

Since we moved into the New Testament and into the Gospel of Mark, we have heard a number of stories, which we’re going to take a moment to review. I’d like you to put yourself in the place of the disciples and others following Jesus. How would you have felt if you had experienced each of these things? We’re going to add a little movement to this. So, if you would have felt amazed, throw your hands up in the air in amazement. If you would have been afraid, put your hands over your head and duck down, as if you are hiding. If you’re a combination of the two, I’ll leave it up to you what you do.

So, how would you have felt if you were there when:

  • Jesus is baptized and Spirit descends on him?
  • Jesus heals the man lowered through the roof on a mat?
  • Jesus compares the kingdom of God to a mustard seed?
  • Jesus casts out demons from a man?
  • Jesus predicts his own suffering and death?
  • Jesus is transfigured on the mountain?

All of these stories are about the power of God’s kingdom, which was our focus before Lent began. As we have been learning since Ash Wednesday, today Jesus teaches us what it means to be a part of God's kingdom - what it means to serve. I invite you to follow along as I read from Mark, chapter 10, beginning with verse 32.

They were on the road, going up to Jerusalem, and Jesus was walking ahead of them; they were amazed, and those who followed were afraid. He took the twelve aside again and began to tell them what was to happen to him, saying, “See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death; then they will hand him over to the Gentiles; they will mock him, and spit upon him, and flog him, and kill him; and after three days he will rise again.”

James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to him and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” And he said to them, “What is it you want me to do for you?” And they said to him, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” But Jesus said to them, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?” They replied, “We are able.” Then Jesus said to them, “The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized; but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared.”

When the ten heard this, they began to be angry with James and John. So Jesus called them and said to them, “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”

They came to Jericho. As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” Jesus stood still and said, “Call him here.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart; get up, he is calling you.” So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. Then Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man said to him, “My teacher, let me see again.” Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way. --Mark 10:32-52 (NRSV)

This chapter in Mark is, as one theologian puts it, “the third revolution of a tripartite.” Tripartite is a really fancy word for three-part. Here in Mark 10 is the third time we have seen this three-part cycle. Once in Mark 8. Again in Mark 9. And now in Mark chapter 10.

Each cycle begins with Jesus attempting to teach the disciples what will happen to him once they reach Jerusalem. Then, the disciples show in some way that they have not understood. (One theologian characterizes this as “If the disciples don’t at first perceive, fail, fail again!) Then, after each misunderstanding, Jesus teaches them about discipleship and shows them what it is to be one of his disciples. 

In today’s story, we have this very same pattern. Jesus and the disciples have begun the walk up to Jerusalem. We read, as I mentioned before, that the disciples were both amazed and afraid. One wonders what was driving these feelings. The disciples were not unaware of the hostility Jesus would meet in Jerusalem. They’d already had a taste of it in the countryside. Perhaps they were afraid for Jesus. Or, perhaps (and more likely) they were afraid for themselves. Then, perhaps, they were amazed because of those mind-blowing, awe-filled miracles of Jesus. Miracles that they had had difficulty performing themselves. One wonders why. Was it a lack of faith on their part? 

Whatever it was, we know that they did not yet fully get the “why” of Jesus. Like the healing of the blind man preceding this entire three-part series, the first time doesn’t stick. It seems as though this is a metaphor for the disciples and their own understanding. That as much as Jesus teaches them about his upcoming passion, as much detail as Jesus goes into this third time - how he will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, then condemned to death, then handed over the Romans who will mock him, who will spit on him, who will flog him, who will kill him - as much as Jesus teaches them, they don’t get it.  They don’t get that his sacrifice, that his humility and service is to be their example. 

We see this in part two of today’s story.

James and John. Just like when your children or grandchildren come up to you and say, “Promise me you’ll give me what I ask for,” James and John are no different. They approach Jesus in the same way. When they ask Jesus for the favor, Jesus says to them,” What do you want me to do for you?” Their answer is our clue to knowing that they don’t get it. That they think that, even if they are good disciples here on this earth, they are going to make sure that in the next life they will be at the seat of power. On either side of the triumphant Jesus. 

And, if we thought that maybe it was only these two who didn’t get it, soon we hear that the other disciples are angry at them. Likely because James and John beat them to it. They all fail to perceive. To understand that the Son of Man, this Messiah, has come, not to be served, but to serve. And to give his life for them. 

Interestingly, the close of this three-part series is a healing of the blind man. Sound familiar? It's how the entire tripartite began. This time it's Bartimaeus. The only subject of Jesus’ healing who is named throughout all of Mark. It is Bartimaeus who will show the disciples what discipleship is.

Let’s contrast him with the Twelve. He immediately calls Jesus the Son of Man. A Messianic title. (Remember the promise to David that the Messiah, his descendent, would remain forever on the throne?) Bartimaeus knows who Jesus is. And Jesus asks him as he had just asked James and John, “What do you want me to do for you?”

Then, look at what he asks for. Not power or prestige. But a basic need. His sight. And, then, after Jesus calls to him, in his exuberance to run to Jesus, he casts off his outer cloak. That thing that is keeping him from Jesus. Because he sees the life-giving power of Jesus. And, after he is healed, he immediately begins to follow Jesus.

Bartimaeus is a direct contrast to the disciples. The disciples seek status. They are so blind, but don’t even see their own blindness. Bartimaeus simply seeks mercy. And, although he is physically blind, he is the one who has 20/20 spiritual vision. He sees Jesus. And he is willing to follow Jesus on the way. On the path of sacrifice.

Friends, what do you want Jesus to do for you? Is it all about you? Is your focus internal and on getting those things you want for yourself? Or is it about sacrifice, about serving others? With a focus that is external, that is about showing mercy and grace to others in the very same way Jesus shows it to us?

We are in frightening times, in this time of a possible world-wide pandemic. How will we respond? Will our focus be on ourselves? On hoarding food and supplies - hand sanitizer, toilet paper, and masks, as examples - for ourselves? Or will our focus be on living as the disciples Jesus desires us to be? Serving others. Being a non-anxious presence in a very fearful world. 

“Whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.” This is who Jesus calls us to be. To not be afraid and focused on self. But, to turn to our neighbor and to those who are the most vulnerable, to serve in our community. Then, to simply be amazed at the healing and life-giving power of Christ in our midst.  

May God grant this. Amen.

Preached March 8, 2020, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church.
Lent 2
Readings: Mark 10:32-52; Isaiah 53:3-6; Psalm 34:11-22

Sunday, May 5, 2019

The Ways of the Kingdom: Trustworthiness

“For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them; to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away. The one who had received the five talents went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents. But the one who had received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money. After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them. Then the one who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five more talents, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me five talents; see, I have made five more talents.’ His master said to him, ‘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.’ And the one with the two talents also came forward, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me two talents; see, I have made two more talents.’ His master said to him, ‘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.’ Then the one who had received the one talent also came forward, saying, ‘Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.’ But his master replied, ‘You wicked and lazy slave! You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter? Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my return I would have received what was my own with interest. So take the talent from him, and give it to the one with the ten talents. 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. As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ Matthew 25:14-30 (NRSV)

You don’t know me. But, we have a lot in common. You are people of the Good News. So was I. You are people, this year, learning from Matthew’s gospel. When I was alive, I did, too. The difference between us was that I heard Matthew’s gospel from Matthew himself. I was a member of Matthew’s church and of the community that centered itself around Matthew’s teachings in the late first century, around year 80 of the Common Era, which we are all part of.

Ours was a time of complete chaos. In the year 70, Jerusalem was completely destroyed. And just as Jesus has predicted, the temple was also destroyed. You have to understand how hard that was on our faith and our ancestry. With the destruction of the temple, we lost the entire structure of our religion. It would almost be like if, in your country, all of your churches would be destroyed. But, that would only be part of it. Because the temple was everything to us. It was the place we went to make sacrifice. To receive forgiveness. And blessing. To hear the Torah read and interpreted. It was completely central to our faith.

By my time, many of the different sects in our faith had disappeared. The priests. The Essenes. And others. This left only two remaining groups, each one claiming to be the heir to our faith. And the ones to interpret our religious traditions. These two groups were the Pharisees and the Christians. I am a Christian. 

Without the temple, the center of our religion shifted to synagogues, which are more like your churches. They were decentralized. Based in different communities and contexts. In our synagogue, we would hear Matthew tell stories about Jesus and Jesus’ teachings. None of these were written down until our time. Mark’s community wrote theirs first. Then, our community wrote what you’ve been reading. The good news of Matthew.  As we heard these early stories about Jesus and Jesus’ teachings, Matthew would try to help us understand who we were in this battle of ideas and religious beliefs. He would emphasize that our beliefs were the ones that were consistent with what Jesus taught. Not the Pharisees’ traditions.

So, what does all of this have to do with the parable that you heard today? Well, the parable part of a teaching in chapters 24 and 25 of our gospel. Today, your scholars call this Matthew’s “Eschatological Discourse.” Eschatology is a fancy name for the study of the end times. For teachings about the parousia, which is a fancy Greek word that means Jesus’ second coming.

You see, we expected to see Jesus come again in our lifetime. Jesus’ coming to earth, as we understood it, was the beginning of God’s reign here on earth. It was the beginning. But not the end. So, the disciples wanted to know what the signs would be of his second coming. Jesus talked about the chaos that would happen, chaos that felt a lot like our own time. And that might feel like your’s, too. But, Jesus told them not to be fooled. That these things would not mark the end. 

Then, Jesus told them what would mark the end. That the sun would become dark. The moon wouldn’t give off its light. The stars would fall from the sky and the planets and other heavenly bodies would be shaken. Then, his sign - the sign of the Human One - would appear in the sky. That would mark the end. That would be the time that the Chosen Ones would be gathered from the four corners of the earth.

So, Jesus told them that they had to be prepared. They had to keep watch. Because no one, not even Jesus, would know when this would happen. Only God would.

Matthew told us the disciples had a hard time understanding this. So, Jesus told them four parables. The first two - the parable of the Faithful and the Unfaithful Servants and the parable of the Ten Young Women - we’ll save for another time. Today, I want to help you understand the Parable of the Talents.

First of all, you need to understand the meaning of the word “talent.” You use it very differently than we did. For us, a talent was money. It was a coin that was equal to fifteen years’ wages. It was the largest sum of money in our world. You might compare it to a million dollars in your world. 

So, in the parable, there is a wealthy landowner who goes on a long trip. This wasn’t unusual in our world. Many wealthy people traveled to distant places for long periods of time. So, while they were gone, they would entrust us to manage their affairs.

What is unusual with this story is how much the servants were entrusted with. The wealthy landowner took a big risk in giving out these large sums of money. Each of the servants was given an amount that was consistent with their abilities. 

So, the first one was given 5 talents. Think 5 million dollars. He worked quickly and efficiently. Starting a business. You would say that he was an entrepreneur with a start up. He invested all 5 million dollars into it. It was huge risk. 

The second one was given 2 talents. Like the first, he, too, created a start up. Investing his entire 2 million dollars into it. Another big risk-taker.

The third one was given 1 talent. In your terms, 1 million dollars. But, he was different that the first two. He acted in a way that was typical in our time. Because burying money was the safest way to protect it in our day. Plus, whoever buried the money was not considered liable for it. So, he acted properly. According the standards of our day. 

Then, after a long time away, the wealthy owner returned to settle his accounts with his three servants. When he heard of the success of the first two, he called them “good” and “faithful.” The owner had taken a huge risk in trusting them with so much of his money. The two servants had taken huge risks. But the risks paid off for everyone. Because of this, the owner gave them more responsibility. He asked them to risk more.

Then, there is the third servant. Probably not very different from you and I. Following the accepted practices of his time. But, there is a problem. This servant has not taken any risks. He has played it safe. He is afraid of the owner. And, because of this, he has hidden the money. Buried it. When he returns the same amount of money to the owner, the owner is furious. He calls him “lazy,” which is a word that would be used for someone who lacks the desire to do any work. Someone who allows safety and convenience to keep them from moving from thought to action. So, the money given to this servant is taken away. It is given to the first servant, who now has $11 million. The owner sends the third servant away. To the same place as the evildoers, the improperly clothed guest from the parable you heard last week. Away from the owner’s presence.

Sisters and brothers, this story is about you and I. We are all waiting for Jesus’ second coming. But this story is not about the parousia. It’s not about Jesus’ second coming. It’s about how we are to live as we wait. We are all people of the “already” and the “not yet.” We all live in the tension of the time between Jesus’ first coming and his second. Between the in-breaking of God’s reign into our world and the fullness of time, when God alone will rule over this earth. When all evil will be destroyed. 

This story is about how you and I are to live in this in-between time. As Jesus people. A Jesus who was rejected and crucified for us. Who was resurrected for us. Unlike the owner in the parable, Jesus promises to be with us. To walk beside us. Because, you see, God has taken a huge risk with us. God has poured out God’s grace on us in abundance. So, while we are waiting. While we are living in the tension of the already/not, we are to be trustworthy with that grace. Not to be people of comfort and complacency. But to be risk-takers like the first two servants. Risk-takers with God’s abundant grace. 

“For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

Are you ready to risk?


Preached March 31, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Fourth Sunday in Lent
Readings: Matthew 25:14-30, Psalm 43:3-4