Dare To…

Sermon

What are you afraid of?

What do you dream of doing?

Let’s let those two questions sit for a while; I promise I’ll come back to them.

These parables at the end of Matthew should give the community of faith pause. They are not for the faint-hearted, those who think of the end times in terms of fluffy clouds and snow-white robes without a whiff of judgment. This parable comes at the end of Matthew’s gospel, as Jesus is mere days away from his death. He is getting his last and most important words in. He’s not playing nice with his audience, but speaking plainly about what’s at stake in the life of faith.

We have a tendency to turn parables – multilayered, multi-meaning stories – into allegories, where one thing stands in for another. If we do that with this parable, we end up with a harsh God who rewards financial gain; that is not the God that Jesus teaches us about. This parable is not so much about God as it is about living the life of faith while waiting for Jesus to return.

It goes something like this: a rich man gives three of his servants money to care for while he is away – millions of dollars by today’s standards. Two risk losing it all and end up making a profit; one takes no risk, out of fear of the master’s harsh reputation, and makes nothing. The two are rewarded and the one punished.

So what’s the punchline to this story? Go big or go home? Nothing ventured, nothing gained? Unless you are a follower of the prosperity gospel, which suggests that God’s blessing on the righteous is financial wealth, this parable seems terribly at odds with everything that Jesus has been teaching and with everything he is about to give up his life for.

Maybe the punchline is something more like this: in living out our faith, God demands daring and risk, not security and safety. But let’s face it: most of us want God’s blessing, but we don’t want to make the sacrifices asked of us.

We know what it is to live with mixed motives, to want one thing and do something that is completely opposite. I want to be healthier but eat all the cookies in the house. You might want to save money but then go on a shopping spree. Your friend might talk about healing the division in our nation but then posts inflammatory articles on Facebook.

For things of lesser matters, maybe that’s just human nature, our innate neuroses coming into play. But for bigger things, things that impact communities and maybe the whole world, the dissonance between what we want and what we do can cause long-term damage.

What if we acknowledge climate change, and believe the science that the earth and seas are getting warmer, and understand that the uptick in hurricanes and forest fires and even new viruses are all a result of human misuse of the earth’s natural resources?

What if we acknowledge the treasure we have been given in this planet, the treasure in peril, but make absolutely no changes to how we live and demand nothing more of those in positions to make the grand-scale changes needed? What does that parable look like?

Or what if we are given a task, a task that demands a lot of us, a task that frightens us, and to carry it out requires all the courage we can muster? And what if, after doing a sort of cost-benefit analysis, our fear gets the best of us, and we don’t do the thing? What if that “fight or flight” reaction gets the best of us, and in fear, with a desire for security, we do nothing?

What if we fail? What then?

I’m afraid the parable is not too helpful for us in this regard; the one who was afraid does not fare well. And while there is plenty to argue with in this parable, plenty that almost makes it an anti-teaching, there is value here too. Maybe it will help to look at what is positive in this parable.

As one commentator put it, “If even this scoundrel of a master invites his slaves/servants ‘into his joy’ when they make wise, fruitful use of his resources, how much more will God, the just and generous Maker of all things, invite us into God’s joy when we do the same?” (https://www.saltproject.org/progressive-christian-blog/2020/11/9/be-daring-salts-lectionary-commentary-for-twenty-fourth-week-after-pentecost)

In this story, risk is rewarded; those who do not give in to their fear, those who take up the challenge, are rewarded. It’s not unlike the way Jesus lived; his ministry was full of taking risks, taking on the religious authorities; it was full of creative imagination, telling new stories that were worthy of hundreds of hearings, each resulting in a deeper understanding. Jesus must have been afraid; he knew that what he did could be judged as a capital offense, that he could be tried and killed for his ministry. Nonetheless, he carried out the call of God and gave up his life for that call. Can we say he was rewarded by resurrection? I’m not sure, but I think that belongs in a different sermon.

As awful as this parable is, there is grace in it too. There’s a positive message in it, that we are invited to “Invest [our] gifts, be courageous enough to take some wise risks, and multiply the good God is doing in and through [us] — for the love of the world!” (https://www.saltproject.org/progressive-christian-blog/2020/11/9/be-daring-salts-lectionary-commentary-for-twenty-fourth-week-after-pentecost)

What are you afraid of?

What do you dream of doing?

Does your fear stop you?

Is your dream something that God would applaud?

Friends, this is a strange time. It is a time full of risk and danger, of opportunity and limits, a time of boredom and joy and hope and grief. It is a scary time – will there be a peaceful transition of power? Will we get ahead of this virus?

When we face any of our fears right now, do we fight? Do we flee? Do we freeze?

Let me offer another possibility. The “fight or flight” theory about human behavior was developed in 1915 by a physiologist named Walter Cannon, who was curious about how humans reacted under stress. He did a thorough study but not a complete one: all of his test subjects were male, and while he added greatly to understanding what we would today call post-traumatic stress, there would be more to learn.

Around the year 2000, a psychologist named Shelly Taylor revised the study and included not only women but also female mammals. What she discovered was that there was another response to stress and danger: tend and befriend. The females, be they chimpanzees or the neighbor ladies, would tend to the least powerful and most vulnerable – the youngest and the eldest, often – and create groups of belonging – coffee klatches, more or less.

What if, in responding to all that is frightening and grievous right now, we looked at responses that first took care of the most vulnerable in our community –

those without adequate income,

those without adequate shelter,

the medically fragile,

the lonely?

What if, in responding to all that is frightening and grievous right now, we formed communities of belonging or worked to strengthen those communities?

What if the parable sounded something like this instead?

A wealthy landowner was getting ready to go on a journey, so she called her three of her beloved servants. To the first, she gave one million dollars. To the second, she gave half a million. To the third, she gave ten thousand dollars. Then she went a way for a long time.

The three servants thought about this strange act of their employer, and they did not know what to make of her random generosity. So they called together all the staff of the house and grounds, and divided the $1,510,000 equally among everyone. Some used the money to pay off their debts. Others helped out a poor relation. Others invested their income in the stock market, and lost some of their investment. Still others went on a spending spree, all for themselves.

Years later, the landowner returned. She called the three servants, who in turn called together all the staff. They said to her, “The three of us pooled your gifts and divided it among all of us. You gave us $1,510,000. We still have that initial amount. In addition,

because she is no longer in debt, Francesca was able to work just this one job.

Julian left to take care of his mother after he paid for the surgery she needed.

George used his funds to shore up the school building, and children no longer come home with runny noses from the cold building.

Zelda lost everything in the market, but learned a bit about investing.

Dolly and Sven ran away and no one has heard a peep from them.”

And the landowner replied, “You good and faithful servants! I entrusted you with much, and you have used these gifts to build up, to learn, to give hope and opportunity. Well done! Let’s have a party!”

Well, it’s fun to imagine, isn’t it?

What are you afraid of? What do you dream of doing?

In the First Letter of John, the author writes that “perfect love casts out fear.” (4:18) While I appreciate the idealism of that statement, I think it might be more real to say that practicing love helps us live alongside our fear; choosing love when facing fear is what God calls us to.

Because while the world has enough fear to last another millennium, it can always use more love.

To the glory of God.