I feel badly for the servant who was given one talent. Over the years, he has been used as the example of what not to do in the Christian life. Pastors and teachers (myself included) have pointed out his fear and hesitation to do anything with his one, measly talent as a way to encourage each of us to do what we can with what we’ve got. And, it’s possible part of that is the point of the parable Jesus teaches: that each of us have been given something by God to take care of, and it’s up to us to take care of it well. For the past few weeks as I’ve wrestled with this passage, I couldn’t help but feel some sympathy for the person with one talent. Maybe he wasn’t just the fearful, negligent person I always imagined him to be.

Jonathan L. Walton, president at Princeton Theological Seminary, wrote a book called A Lens of Love, and in this book he suggests that we should always ask ourselves as we read the Bible, “Who is on the margins?” In other words, who is mostly invisible? Who is afraid or in need? Whose story is passed over or glossed over and needs to be considered more deeply? He says it this way: “Recall the people we desire to see in the biblical text. We want to use the lenses of love to see those whom God sees, those on the margins or rendered otherwise invisible.”

In reading this story, I see two people whose stories are on the margins and need a closer look: the one with only one talent, and the master himself. For our purposes this morning, I’d like to take a look at these two invisible stories and encourage us to take a look at our own invisible stories – what we are saying about ourselves, and what we are saying about God. As we do this, my hope is that we will lean in closer to this parable so that we might discover how this story is like the kingdom of God.

First, let’s take a look at the servant with one talent. What’s the largest amount of money you’ve ever been given to take care of? As a kid, I was taught that I should never ask for money from anyone, and I should be careful not to borrow or take loans from anyone because they often have strings attached. As I asked myself the question this week about the largest amount of money I’ve ever been given to take care of, I realized I would have just said “no” to the master giving me one talent to take care of. 

A talent was a unit of money in the time of Jesus, and it wasn’t a small amount of money at all. A talent was worth the amount a laborer would make for 15-20 years worth of work. Scholars debate on the exact sum of money this would be today, but for the sake of argument, let’s multiply $60,000–the average U.S. salary–by 15. If we do 

that, we arrive at $900,000. How excited would you be to manage that amount of money for someone else?

Each of the master’s servants are given a massive sum of money to manage while he was away. Two of the servants were able to put that money to work and double it, but the third servant took the money and hid it because he was afraid he was going to mess it up. The story he told himself about the master was that the master was harsh, unforgiving, and greedy. The master would not take kindly to being given anything less than what he had given to the servants. So, to protect himself, he buried the talent so that he would be sure to have all of it to return to the master when he returned home. 

The third servant was driven by fear. He made his choices out of fear. He assumed the worst of the master and of himself. He hid what he had been given because he was afraid. I imagine the people Malachi wrote to were operating out of the same fear when God spoke to them saying, “Bring the full tithe into the storehouse, so that there may be food in my house, and thus put me to the test, says the Lord of hosts; see if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you an overflowing blessing.” Right after this verse in Malachi, God promises to rebuke the locust that devours their crops so that they will have an abundance. Their fear is rooted in something real: there is a very real pest destroying their crops. They were afraid that if they gave faithfully to God, they wouldn’t have enough left for themselves, and so they hid what they had.

Fear can drive us to do things we wouldn’t do otherwise. When we become afraid enough that we can’t think clearly, our instinct tells us to fight, flee, or freeze. In the case of this third servant, he either felt the need to flee or he froze up. In that moment, the only thing he could think of to do was protect himself, and that meant ensuring not one cent of the master’s money was lost. After all, how could he guarantee that by trading money like the other two servants did that he would make money rather than lose it?

In the story of this servant, we see a warning of what happens when we operate out of fear. When we are overwhelmed by fear, we tell ourselves that we aren’t capable and that God isn’t trustworthy. And then we hide what we have. This parable encourages us to step back and take stock of our fears. Fear is meant to alert us to something that could potentially harm us. It is meant to help us. Fear itself isn’t a sin. But when we allow fear to take over, it begins to tell us things that aren’t true about ourselves. It convinces us that we are not trustworthy and neither is God.

Have you ever seen the movie The Little Rascals? There’s one particular scene I couldn’t stop thinking about as I thought about these passages from Malachi and Matthew. In the scene, Alfalfa is running away from some bullies. He is wearing only his underpants, and he has had a harrowing time trying to get away from these other kids. He calls out while he’s running, “Things couldn’t possibly get any worse.” And then he runs right into his bullies on the corner. He sighs, looks up toward the sky, and says, “Ohh, then the clouds opened up and God said, ‘I hate you, Alfalfa.’” Seems a little bit like that third servant upon being given a talent to steward. Seems a little bit like me, too, if I’m honest.

The invisible story of the third servant is the story of a person consumed by fear, the story of a person who has believed himself to be incapable and his master to be untrustworthy. In this parable, I also think the true story about the master is somewhat invisible, too. We never get to hear the master’s reasons for giving the servants the amount he did. We don’t know how long he’ll be away, and we don’t know for sure what normally happened to his money while he was home. Did he trade his money? Was he always busy doubling it when he could? All we know is that he divvied up different amounts of money to three different servants, and then went on a journey, which makes it sound like he planned to be gone for a long time.

When he returns, the first two servants return his money double to him, and he responds to each of them, “Enter into the joy of your master.” He celebrates their stewardship, but he also invites them to share in his joy. His invitation to his servants to share his joy makes the words of the third servant sound strange. When asked why he hid the money, the third servant replied, “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.’” Ouch. The master gets angry at this accusation, but I can’t help but wonder if the master was deeply hurt. He responded, “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.”

Yes, the master wanted what he gave the servants to be used and multiplied, but he also wanted them to share in his joy. He wanted to invite them in, to give them a seat next to him. However, the third servant was so afraid he couldn’t see that. Just like Alfalfa, he was waiting for the heavens to open up and for lightning to strike him where he stood if he made a mistake.

The words of Malachi 3 paint a picture of God who is longing to shower down blessings, not judgment. In the middle of a chapter of judgment about how the people have not been faithful to God, the prophet writes this, “Bring the full tithe into the storehouse, so that there may be food in my house, and thus put me to the test, says the Lord of hosts; see if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you an overflowing blessing.”

Bring it all in–the whole harvest, the whole tithe, our whole selves. And when the storehouse is filled to overflowing and we have to shut the door so that it doesn’t all overflow out, God will open a window and “pour down for you an overflowing blessing.”  Friends, let’s bring our fears into the light and examine them. What part of the fear is useful in encouraging us to be wise, and what part of the fear is leading us to doubt ourselves and doubt the goodness of God? By shining the spotlight on our fears, we can see them for what they are. And then, let’s bring our whole selves to God with faithfulness, trusting that as we do so, we will experience the joy of the Master. Amen.