I think I’ve shared before that during my first semester of seminary I had an introductory assignment where I openly stated that when I read the Bible my first assumption is that it will oppress me. I’m thankful (and you probably are now too) that I’ve experienced much growth throughout the past three years and have come to reverse my expectation of scripture. Today when I read the Bible my first assumption is that it will set me free! I’ve come to recognize a narrative throughout scripture of God who is for people, especially those people who don’t seem like they’re winning. I witness God who falls in love with humankind so completely that God never gives up on us, keeps choosing us, loving us, time and time again.
Because of this change in perspective I’m particularly challenged by encountering these readings today and they are forcing me to exercise the new muscles I’ve been building at Luther Seminary. These readings are challenging me as I find myself wrestling with contradiction today, wondering which of my assumptions of the Bible is true as I struggle to hold on to my new understanding of the narrative of a loving God. Overwhelmingly the lesson in Matthew’s gospel today has been preached as a renewal of Christian action and participation through responsible and obligatory use of the gifts we’ve been given by God. I’m not on board. Amidst this wrestling I admit that I’m weary of the meritocracy that is perpetuated by capitalistic societies like the Roman Empire and the United States of America. I’m weary of the Pharaohs that insist that we “make more bricks” in servitude to the empire. I’m weary of theologians who preach that we double down, work harder and give more in the name of God. At the beginning of this chapter in Matthew, Jesus says “The kindom of heaven will be like this.” and then shares this parable. I cannot accept that the kindom of God is like a ruthless and wealthy CEO with a golden parachute who requires his employees to play his game of monopoly. In his game he takes all of their winnings and downsizes the company so that the remaining employees are “rewarded” with more work and participation in the joy of perpetuating his game of exploitation. No. Not God.
It’s important to recognize before I go any further that the “talent” spoken about in the gospel is not what we write about on our yearly stewardship forms about time, talent and treasure. A “talent” was cold hard cash, actually an enormous amount of cash, you could say it was a life savings, worth more than fifteen years of wages! The US Census bureau reports that the median household income in 2019 was around $68,000, so a modern-day talent would be over a million dollars. Using today’s income data, the master in this story gives one slave $5 million dollars, another $2 million dollars, and another $1 million and went away… for a very long time. Two of the slaves play the game, somehow managing to double these multiplied life savings and return $10 million dollars and $4 million dollars to the master. I wonder how they did this? There were no stock market investments or lottery pay-outs two thousand years ago where one had even the slim possibility of such an incredible return on investment. I wonder, considering this astounding wealth-building, if the exploited had already become the exploiters when the master returned.
Anyway, the third guy, I’ll call him the million dollar servant, he didn’t increase the master’s wealth. He buried it, and gave it right back when the master returned. When he was questioned by the master on his apparent irresponsible handling of this money he says, “Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed”... and the master became enraged. “You knew, did you?!” You knew that I was exploiting everyone I came across, you were onto my game? Well if you knew how ruthless I am then you should have been at least wise enough to gain me some interest. In effect, the million dollar servant was told to make more bricks, told he isn’t good enough, told he should have worked harder. Ending his fit of rage, the master orders the million dollar servant to be “thrown into outer darkness where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth”. <breathe>
This harsh message from Matthew is juxtaposed against Paul’s letter to Thessalonica, a capital city of a Roman province that was immersed in commercial prosperity and sure to be enmeshed in the ways of the Roman Empire. Paul writes to a new Christian community, one that is facing opposition from both the Roman Empire and the local Jewish community.
Paul encourages them: “Let us put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation. For God has destined us not for wrath but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live with him.”
This is the first written book of the new testament, the first words encouraging the first Christian community, and they do not instruct us to be more productive or to try harder. They denounce a harsh and wrathful God. They assure us of the free gift of God’s love and salvation, whether we’re awake or asleep, through Christ. These words proclaim God’s love for these people who were not winning under the oppression of the Roman Empire and instruct them that no matter what... awake or asleep… God’s gift is theirs.
Reconsidering today’s gospel reading as I put on the breastplate of faith and love with a helmet of hope I begin to wonder: What was the million dollar servant doing for all of those years that his time was not justified through income? I wonder: what if we lived like salvation really is not fused with status, power and work? What if God is not the master in this story? What if this master is of the empire, and not of God, as he insists that the million dollar servant did not work hard enough and threatens him into collusion with his evil ways? What if the “wicked and lazy slave” is actually the hero of the story, actually the faithful servant of God, who resists the evil ways of the empire and buries his million dollars. What if this faithful servant of God purposefully refuses to participate in systems of power with only one winner? What if the empire becomes enraged by his resistance, realizes he knew all along about the unjust game and decides to shut him up. The empire decides to not only shut him up but to also make him into a lesson for all others. What if the empire makes a big show of this lesson and marches him through the city all the way to Golgotha, where he is crucified by the empire for the threat of his disobedience with weeping and gnashing of teeth? <breathe>
What if the empire cannot silence the resistance of the million dollar servant because he is the Christ and Christ lives on within us...in you and me and all of us together? What if we have the courage to become like this wicked and lazy slave, as we refuse to participate in the game of the empire and instead build the kindom of God? Because in the kindom of God there’s no such thing as you’re not enough. The kindom of God subverts the empire’s messages that you aren’t white enough, black enough, young enough, old enough, man enough, smart enough, fast enough, rich enough, legal enough… with you are enough, God’s beloved. God calls you. What if this lesson backfires on the empire and the people of Christ rise up, united in all of their diverse beauty, unafraid, wearing a fierce breastplate of faith and love with a helmet of hope?
This is the message of good news I hear today. This is the work I invite you to participate in, wherever your feet meet the ground, rise up. The empire is disguised as a desirable partnership, a joint venture where you are promised to enter into the joy of your master. It is a lie. We, the people of the resurrection, the people of Christ, must resist! We step forward from today as we cling to our breastplate of faith and love, knowing we are protected and encouraged by our helmet of hope, and we walk together toward love, mercy and justice as heirs in Christ. Amen.
