“I was afraid.”

Sermon for the Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 28)

Saint Peter's | Arlington, VA

Matthew 25:14-30

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Well, there’s no getting around it, the gospel lesson we have just heard is far from straightforward—and perhaps a little uncharacteristic of expectations.

But while it is rather lengthy and more than a little unsettling, what is most consequential is captured in three simple, pithy words: “I was afraid.”

The response of the third servant is familiar. “I was afraid,” he says, and so he goes and hides. For all of us, allowing our fears to drive our behavior from time to time is an inevitable part of being human— whether we care to admit it or not,

Fear is a powerfully motivating force. And as far too many public figures wanting to influence others know, it can galvanize the actions of individuals and it can be used to mobilize masses.

In 1905, the sociologist Max Weber observed a similar relationship between fear and action. Particularly fitting for this parable this parable Jesus tells, is Weber’s book, The Protestant Work Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism.

What he observes is essentially this: for some religious persons, fears of the afterlife motivate the accumulation of earthly treasures.

According to his theory, when someone believes in a theology of election—which is that God has pre-determined a select and limited number of persons who will obtain salvation—they are motivated to flaunt their good fortune. And in doing so, what they aim to prove—perhaps to others, perhaps only to themselves—is that they are indeed favored by God, part of the elect. So, the more possessions one holds, the more effectively existential anxieties are soothed.

Curiously though, what unfolds in today’s gospel would appear to be quite the opposite. In this case, fear doesn’t generate a fight or flight response—like those holding Weber’s protestant work ethic—but a freeze response. In the face of fear, the third servant is frozen by inaction, so he buries what has been entrust to him in the ground.

Now, in his defense, it’s really an understandable reaction. Because the amount of money he has been given by this absentee landlord is enormous. For a day laborer in this time, a single talent amounted to about five year’s wages. No wonder he is overwhelmed.

The first two servants on the other hand, jump into gear and make fruitful investments—for which they are praised. And it’s for this reason that this passage is frequently used as a justification of unfettered capitalism—as though the point Jesus aims to impart has to do with building a savvy investment portfolio. But this is not the case…

Today’s lesson is bookended between two other parables.

In Matthew’s Gospel, this set of parables is something like a three-part miniseries. The first “episode,” if you will, which we heard last week, tells us about Ten Bridesmaids as they make preparations for a wedding feast. And then airing next week, the final episode concludes with a light and breezy parable about a final judgement to come—stay tuned!

All of this takes place in the gospel narrative just before the final days of Jesus’ life. This miniseries about faithful readiness sets the foundation for all that will soon unfold.

A financial system may be the image in today’s passage, but it is really not the message. Just in case we should lose the forest for the trees though, Jesus’ teaching about what makes for a wise return has already been made clear in the Sermon on the Mount: “Where your treasure is, there your heart is also.”

The Parable of the Talents is not fundamentally about monetary goods—unless, of course, it is. If a preoccupation with wealth—whether obtaining or losing it—is “where one’s heart is,” this parable says much about the depth of one’s relationships.

As we examine the relationships between each person in this parable, Jesus is guiding his followers into something much deeper. His concern extends far beyond a financial economy to the implications of living within God’s economy.

Just under the surface, it is as though Jesus poses a challenge to his followers: What will you do with what you’ve been entrusted? How will you respond to the truth you’ve been given? Are you ready?

It’s an appeal to remain faithful when confronted by criss. And one of the responses we hear is quite simple: “I was afraid.”

It’s a pretty remarkable confession, and I admire it’s honesty. Because admittedly, I can’t say I have always demonstrated this level of self-awareness. Truthfully, in hindsight, there have been more than a few occasions when life would seem to have operated on autopilot, with any conscious decision-making relinquished to the whims of one fear or another.

Now, I don’t know much about gnashing of teeth... but I can sure tell you about a dark night of the soul or two. Whether it surface from things like strained family relationships, divorce, or political uncertainties, fear has a way of shrinking the size of life. And when it is at the helm, it is very much like descending into a kind of “outer darkness.”

Just as fear is born of scarcity, it breeds greater and greater scarcity. And it is not God’s desire for our lives—which is characterized by abundance and enoughness.

Peculiarly, there is an essential element of growth present within the economy of God... Because just as life begets more life, faith begets more faith.

I am reminded here of the words of the theologian and mystic, Howard Thurman,

“Don’t ask yourself what the words needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and go do that, because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

Our lives are surely a grace received. But as Thurman suggests fully inhabiting one’s life is a choice we make empowered by that grace. It is through the willingness to risk that we will know and experience good news in our lives.

This is just what Jesus is getting after in this parable—and it begins with trust in a loving relationship.

Our Creator entrusts each and every one of us with a gift. It is enormous, perhaps at times overwhelmingly so. Responding faithfully though, brings great reward—because the thing we give our hearts will increase in size.

Now, there’s a reason why the words “fear not” are repeated like a refrain throughout scripture; fear will surely come. So, from somewhere in the back of my mind I can almost hear Mister Roger’s asking, “What do you do with the fear that you feel?”

In the face of inevitable fear, choose to give yourself to hope, or joy, or love, or life—because the reward is cultivating more hope and joy and love and life in this world. And we are all desperately in need of the thing you have been entrusted with.

Amen