Zephaniah1.7.12-18, Matthew 25.14-30
Well - Zephaniah was a
bundle of laughs, wasn’t he? What a miserable Old Testament reading we heard
today. “Distress and anguish, ruin and devastation, darkness and gloom, clouds
and thick darkness, trumpet blasts and battle cries.” I didn’t choose it
deliberately. It was just the reading set for today, but I’m glad we got the
chance to hear Zephaniah’s words, from his very short book of prophecies, just
three chapters long, sandwiched between Habakkuk and Haggai in the Old
Testament. Zephaniah gives searingly honest voice to deep human emotions here.
He says what people so often feel when things go wrong, that they are being
punished for something. We may not agree with him – I certainly don’t see God
like this, and other parts of the Bible put very different views. It’s often in
dialogue with itself. But whatever the true cause of the disasters which hit
us, it can feel like this when a day of reckoning falls on us and all our usual
landmarks are swept away. During this pandemic, as many people have struggled
with illness, bereavement, economic catastrophe and exhaustion, they have cried out, ‘Why me? Why us? Why now? Why
this?’
Zephaniah had good reason to
feel so desperate. He was writing not long before the destruction of Jerusalem
by the Babylonians, just as it started to become obvious that the writing was
on the wall for his nation. This isn’t some vision of a far distant apocalypse.
It was what he saw happening around him, as nation after nation fell to this
all-conquering army. There were still some people who wanted to deny reality,
“surely, it can’t happen to us!” But the axe soon fell on them too, just as
Zephaniah said it would. His words remind us that it’s all right to howl at
God, to howl at the world, to tell it like it feels. We don’t have to pretend
things are ok when they’re not. In fact, it’s only when we stop doing that that
that we have any chance of moving forward.
Zephaniah’s people were
coming to a day of reckoning, which would reveal their vulnerability and
powerlessness, just as our own day of reckoning has to us. This pandemic has
shown us that everything in our garden is far from rosy. It’s revealed the
inequalities in our society and the precariousness of so many people’s lives.
It’s stripped away the illusion that we could protect ourselves from everything
that threatened us. If we were resting ‘complacently on our dregs,’ like some
of those Zephaniah was writing about, we certainly aren’t now.
The story Jesus tells in
today’s Gospel reading is also a story about a day of reckoning, and what is
revealed by it. It’s a story about a rich man who entrusts his fortune to three
of his slaves when he goes away. And it is a fortune. A talent was
originally a unit of currency – nothing to do with the ability to sing or dance
or juggle! It was, specifically, a
weight of gold or silver - about 4 stone– 28 kilos – to be precise. It was
worth a huge amount. One talent represented about 15 times the annual salary of
an ordinary working man.
So, a talent was treasure
beyond the wildest dream of most people. This master is placing a serious
amount of trust in his slaves. The first slave gets 5 talents to look after;
that’s 75 years’ worth of wages. The second gets 2 talents – 30 years’ worth –
and even the third slave is entrusted with 15 years’ worth of wages. Their
master doesn’t say what they’re to do with it, but the first two trade with it
and double their money.
The third slave though, is
afraid, and we probably sympathise. Trade is risky. Investments can go down as
well as up, as financial advertisements are always careful to tell us. What if
he loses it all? Just as Zephaniah believed God was wrathful, rightly or wrongly,
so this slave believes, rightly or wrongly, that his master is a harsh man. We
don’t know whether it’s true or not, but, like Zephaniah, it’s what he thinks,
and he allows that to shape his actions. He doesn’t want to risk losing a penny
of what he’s been given. So, he digs a hole and buries it.
But when his master comes home,
it’s precisely that caution, that lack of appreciation of the trust that was
placed in him which makes his master furious. He could at least have put the money
in the bank, where it might have made some interest! The slave is
unceremoniously thrown out into the darkness. That probably seems unfair to us -
but I think Jesus means us to feel that way. I think he means to play on our
empathy for this slave whose fear has made him too cautious to do anything with
the treasure he’s been given, because very often we’re like that too.
I said earlier that times of
reckoning can reveal uncomfortable truths about ourselves, and sometimes that
is because they show us the treasure we have been given, and ask us what we’ve
done with it - the treasure that is the
people around us – family, friends, neighbours – the treasure of this beautiful
world, the treasure of faith, of the Bible, of fellowship, of prayer, the
treasure of life itself, with all its opportunities. How have we “treasured our
treasure”? Have we shared it, used our precious opportunities, have we hidden
our treasure in a hole in the ground, where it won’t be at risk, but won’t do
us, or anyone else any good either. If it’s the latter, this story asks us, then
why? Are we afraid of trying something new, going deeper, in case we get it
wrong? Are we afraid of what others will think of us, of what God will think of
us if it all goes pear-shaped?
Those fears are quite
understandable. It could have all gone wrong for the first two slaves. The
business ventures they invested in could have gone bust. But its important to
note what the master says to those first two slaves when he returned. He didn’t
say, “well done, good and successful slave”, he said “well done, good and
trustworthy slave”. It is the slave’s faithfulness, their willingness to join
in with the master’s work, to try to further it, which he praises, not the amount
of money they’ve made.
During this pandemic it has
been great to see people in our community and our church here at Seal having a go, taking a chance, connecting with
others, responding to need as they can, where they can, not waiting until they
can be sure of success, but doing something to help – using their treasure. Not
everything may work out, but some things do, things that would never have
happened otherwise.
Life can be hard, and it’s
quite right, along with Zephaniah, to tell it like it is, to be honest about
pain and loss, but Jesus’s story reminds us that although suffering is real,
love is real too. We have treasure, great treasure, treasure beyond counting; the
treasure of one another, the treasure of a new day, every day, the treasure of
God himself, with us, walking beside us. We are called to treasure that
treasure right now, at this moment, not by hoarding it or keeping it to
ourselves, but by working with the generous God who gave it to us, letting it
multiply and grow as we use it, so that it can enrich the world.
Amen
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