SERMON FOR NOVEMBER 15, 2020     TEXT: MATTHEW 25:14-30
     In seminary our theology professor constantly reminded us, “The Gospel is not a carrot and a stick. The Gospel is just a carrot.” Offering the sweetness of grace, the Lord invites us to come to him with confidence. He is not hiding a club behind his back, waiting to beat us into submission or drive us out, should the promise of mercy prove ineffective. That, our professor insisted, is the bottom line. And woe to the preacher who turns the Gospel into law, eclipsing God’s lovingkindness with the threat of judgment. 
     In chapters 24 and 25 of his Gospel Matthew offers four parables, one right after the other, that exhort his hearers to prepare for the second coming of the Lord in judgment. The culling of humankind is portrayed in the story of the faithful and unfaithful slave, the wise and foolish bridesmaids, which we heard last week; today in the parable of the talents, and next week, on the last Sunday of the church year, in the separation of the sheep from the goats. It sounds like Matthew studied with a theology professor quite different from mine. In these stories the one who returns appears to walk tall and carry a very big stick, big enough to scare you away from the carrot.
     The parable of the talents is certainly a hard one to interpret. The introduction in today’s bulletin tells us that the story is calling us to use our gifts, while we still have time, for the greater and common good. But there is no end to the gifts God has given us. How do we make good use of them all? If I am generous with my money but make a hash of my family life, will I pass muster when Christ comes again? If we “let justice roll down like waters” and break the tyranny of racism but fail to stop the march of global warming, will we be deemed “trustworthy in a few things,” trustworthy enough, at least, to enter into the joy of our master?
     The details trip you up. Right off the bat we learn that the man entrusts his property to each of his slaves according to their ability. One assumes the third fellow, who is ultimately thrown into the outer darkness for his poor performance, received only one talent, versus the five and two awarded the others, because the master knew he was limited. He may have defaulted more spectacularly than the master anticipated, but his failure doesn’t seem like a total surprise. Why is he condemned so bitterly for it? 
    And then there is his troubling defense, “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.” I suppose the master could argue that the slave shortchanged him by not making a profit for him, but the fellow doesn’t rob him. Even a single talent represents an exorbitant amount of money. The slave doesn’t abscond with it; he keeps it safe and gives it back, facing a man whose business practices he does not embrace and whose character he fears. Some interpreters hasten to point out that the first two slaves bring no such charge against the master. So is the third slave deluded or is he trying to shift the blame for his failure onto his boss? 
     How are we to understand this unfortunate man’s behavior? Could he actually be the hero of the piece? After all, he refuses to engage in the questionable business transactions that all of the other characters in the parable pursue without a second thought. “You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter?” the master thunders. “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.” Yet that very practice, lending money at interest, is forbidden in the Old Testament (Exodus 22:25; Leviticus 25:35-38). Are we really to regard the super-wealthy, rapacious, possibly abusive master as a stand-in for Jesus, who will come again to judge the living and the dead in righteousness? The master’s business requires taking risk for gain. He has no qualms about getting rich at the expense of others and unceremoniously dumping someone who fails to increase his profit margin. It is hard to see the risk-taking of Jesus’ ministry as comparable.
     Perhaps the point is that the third slave does prove “unfaithful” to his master’s mission by failing to get with the program and invest. He was expected to emulate his master’s behavior during the latter’s absence, and, whatever his reasons, the fact is that he did not.
    . Many interpreters insist that Jesus cannot be interpreted as a hard slave-master who demands unjust practices for profit from his servants. But like the master in the parable, Jesus does expect us to follow his example as we carry out the work he has entrusted to us. One could say we are required to take risks, invest shrewdly and advance the enterprise of the Kingdom of God on earth. If these New Testament forerunners of venture capitalism can go for broke with the talents given them, what is our excuse for holding back when we deal with the priceless treasure of God’s grace?
     Matthew harps on final judgment to goad his community to faithful action in the present. And that stick can work, driving the timid and lazy out of self-preservation mode into new ventures “of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown,” in the words of a familiar prayer. 
     A colleague of mine wondered how the parable would go if the first slave had traded the five talents entrusted to him and instead of making five more he went bankrupt. So much for the stick; now it’s all about the carrot. By the grace of God time and time again there will be more talents in your account, new opportunities to invest them, restored hopes of a good return. “Your will be done, on earth as in heaven,” we pray. In his Small Catechism Luther writes, “In fact, God’s good and gracious will comes about without our prayer, but we ask in this prayer that it may also come about in and among us.” This happens “whenever God breaks and hinders every evil scheme and will . . . that would not allow us to hallow God’s name and would prevent the coming of his kingdom, and instead whenever God strengthens us and keeps us steadfast in his word and in faith until the end of our lives. This is God’s gracious and good will.”  God’s investment in us is sure to pay off handsomely in the end. Amen.