Daily Devotions

While they were eating, Jesus took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.” Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you; for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. I tell you, I will never again drink of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.”

When they had sung the hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives. Matthew 26:26-30

Staple foods are the basic elements of peoples’ diets that are widely available, store well, and provide much of the people’s basic nutritional requirements. When I grew up, potatoes were number one on the list. At least it seemed that way as most dinners began with a trip to the scary burlap bags in the basement to get a pot of potatoes to boil. The first time I heard Bubba extol the glories of shrimp in “Forrest Gump” I realized that anyone from North Dakota could probably do the same with potatoes.

Bread and wine were staples in Jesus’ day. Bread was as plentiful as wheat fields. Unleavened bread stored a long time. While it had limited nutritional value it did have that one thing that my mom appreciated – it filled you up. It was better than nothing. And wine, likewise, was as plentiful as grapes. The alcohol content was its preservative. Everybody drank wine. Some, too much.

Both bread and wine had deep roots in Jewish memory banks. Wine stretched all the way back to Noah’s vineyard (also a lesson in drinking too much too quickly) and bread to the manna in the wilderness that sustained the lives of God’s people. It is no wonder that both bread and wine made their way into the spiritual and worship lives of the people of Israel. Both were signs of God’s provision, God’s generosity, the wonders of God’s creation.

Thus, when Jesus picked up the bread and then the wine at the Passover meal he celebrated with the disciples, it was a “normal” thing for him to do. It was expected. It was tradition. But what wasn’t at all normal, nor expected, was the manner in which Jesus personalized it. Jesus went off script in saying “this is my body” and “this is my blood.” I figure that the quizzical disciples had no idea what he was talking about. They, unlike Jesus, didn’t see the cross just around the corner.

Fast forward now to the other side of the cross and the resurrection. Jesus is no longer physically present with his disciples. All they have left are his promises and their memories. Their dinner tables still include, as they always have, the basics of bread and wine. Very quickly it occurred to them, in eating and drinking, they were remembering that last meal with Jesus. They saw him present in the bread and the wine. They remembered him. They remembered his words about a new relationship, a new covenant, about the forgiveness of sins. It is no wonder that bread and wine now found their place as a staple of their worship life.

Every time I am privileged to repeat those words of Jesus over bread and wine I am reminded that – just like my mother called us to gather around the dinner table – so too now the body of Christ gathers again around the table. We are in the same space. We come together only to be sent back out. And just like our family dinner tables, we are fed far more than food.

Let us pray: Thank you Lord that you created such a simple way to bring us together around you, around your promises, around your presence. We confess that we, in our desires to get things right, or our fears that we veer off track, make that meal far more complicated than it needs to be. Bread, wine, your words, your presence, strangers become meal companions. It is enough. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Then one of the twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, “What will you give me if I betray him to you?” They paid him thirty pieces of silver. And from that moment he began to look for an opportunity to betray him.

On the first day of Unleavened Bread the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Where do you want us to make the preparations for you to eat the Passover?” He said, “Go into the city to a certain man, and say to him, ‘The Teacher says, My time is near; I will keep the Passover at your house with my disciples.’” So the disciples did as Jesus had directed them, and they prepared the Passover meal.

When it was evening, he took his place with the twelve; and while they were eating, he said, “Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me.” And they became greatly distressed and began to say to him one after another, “Surely not I, Lord?” He answered, “The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me. The Son of Man goes as it is written of him, but woe to that one by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would have been better for that one not to have been born.”

Judas, who betrayed him, said, “Surely not I, Rabbi?” He replied, “You have said so.” Matthew 26:14-25

Certain names live in infamy – Hitler, Pol Pot, Stalin, Benedict Arnold – but often we forget that such characters don’t emerge in a vacuum. Judas didn’t come out of nowhere. Healthy systems produce healthy leaders. Judas was a product of the system that raised him and taught him what it meant to be an adult.

From our point of view, we look back all the way to Genesis 12 for the promise and purpose of our forebears, the people of Israel. From that very beginning, the call was crystal clear. God would bless God’s people and they would bless all the peoples of the world. Like electricity, God’s love would flow forth, go to and through God’s people, connect with those they touched, and return to its source in God. This is the only plan there is. It is written into the universe.

But, like electricity, all it takes is a switch, or a break in the wire, and you’ve lost the power of your connection. Enough of a break and the entire grid – the system itself – breaks down.

Follow the line back through Judas and the Bible teaches us about how it is that people abuse their freedom to be responsible. They exchange worship of, and obedience to, the Creator in exchange for worship of, and obedience to, their own creations. They forget the Source of their blessings and come to think of themselves as the end all and be all of life. They elevate their own tribe at the expense of all others. The system feeds on itself until it consumes itself. Human sin interwoven into human systems.

Judas was raised in an age, beleaguered as they were, when Jews clung to their identity as special people, chosen people. He was raised with a faith that pitted his good people against their evil enemies – Romans, Samaritans, Gentiles everywhere. A faith which said that the current evil age would find consummation when God would act to set his people free to take their rightful place at the top of the pyramid. Judas was raised in every age. Including our own.

For Judas, Jesus was the worst kind of disappointment. He didn’t deliver the goods. Judas didn’t see the breadth of Jesus’ love and concern as Jesus blessed rich and poor, Jew and Gentile, the leaders of synagogues and the leaders of Roman soldiers. Or perhaps he did and he resented it. Either way, Judas was ready to make a deal. He sold Jesus out for 30 pieces of silver.

All people, of every age, in every culture and human system, do well not to cast Judas and the other infamous characters in history as tragic accidents but as reflections of the darkness in their own beliefs and expectations. Recasting God in our own image never ends well.

Let us pray: Dear Lord, our sins betrays you. We chase after the gods who are not gods. We choose selfishness over service. We forget about the common good as we sink deeper into greed. We take for granted what a blessing it is to be invited to your table. The table where there is room, and plenty, for all. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Now while Jesus was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very costly ointment, and she poured it on his head as he sat at the table. But when the disciples saw it, they were angry and said, “Why this waste? For this ointment could have been sold for a large sum, and the money given to the poor.”

But Jesus, aware of this, said to them, “Why do you trouble the woman? She has performed a good service for me. For you always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me. By pouring this ointment on my body she has prepared me for burial. Truly I tell you, wherever this good news is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in remembrance of her.” Matthew 26:6-13

Typing these words feels like a privilege this morning. I am helping Jesus’ prediction of the future come true. One more time we are remembering the woman with the “alabaster jar of very costly ointment.”

The woman is unnamed. We don’t know anything about her. We don’t know what moved her to get that jar of ointment, where she got it, how much she spent to get it. All we know, from this story, is what she did. She anointed Jesus’ head with oil. Jesus, the Messiah, the anointed one.

Simon, the owner of the house where this happened, does have a name. Simon. Simon is the English version of the Hebrew name Shimon. Shimon comes from the Hebrew word Sh’ma which means “to listen, or hear and obey.” The most famous use of the word is probably in Deut. 6:4, “Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone.” where the Hebrew word translated “hear” is sh’ma. Simon listens to Jesus…the other disciples get angry with him.

Simon also has another name. A name he didn’t choose. A name of which he might very well have been deeply ashamed. Simon the leper. Say that aloud a time or two. Pay attention to how it sounds in your ears. Remember how lepers were treated in Jesus’ day – feared, ostracized, misunderstood. They weren’t fit for community. Yet Jesus finds a place in his home. Jesus goes there on purpose. Simon the leper is also remembered every time the story of the woman who anointed Jesus is told.

And the disciples get angry. They have a better idea. The story tells us that they think the ointment ought to have been sold and the money given to the poor. It doesn’t tell us how they felt about spending time with Jesus in the home of Simon the leper. I do wonder what they thought about that…

Jesus is also right in acknowledging that there will always be poor people. But for Jesus, this is not an “either/or” situation. It is always a “both/and.” There is time, space, and plenty for honoring and worshipping God and there is time, space, and plenty for alleviating the suffering of the poor. In fact, these do go together. For truly honoring and glorifying God leads to alleviating the suffering of the poor, finding a home among the homeless, sharing a table with the outcast or God isn’t honored or glorified in the first place.

Let us pray: Dear Lord, like Simon, we all carry the scars of our lives even if they are covered up and out of sight. Like the disciples, we often think we have a better idea of what you ought to do or what ought be done in your name. Help us be like the unnamed woman who did the best she could with what she had to demonstrate her love and submission to your will. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

When Jesus had finished saying all these things, he said to his disciples, “You know that after two days the Passover is coming, and the Son of Man will be handed over to be crucified.”

Then the chief priests and the elders of the people gathered in the palace of the high priest, who was called Caiaphas, and they conspired to arrest Jesus by stealth and kill him. But they said, “Not during the festival, or there may be a riot among the people.” Matthew 26:1-5

Matthew is now turning a corner and leading us, with Jesus, to the climax of his story. Jesus knows what is coming. But what does this mean? The easy answer is that Jesus is both human and divine – his divine nature knows what the future holds, his human nature is willing to walk into his destiny. Jesus has to die so that we can be forgiven. We are along for the ride.

That’s the easy answer. The common answer. The answer that lives in the popular imaginations of people. It is the substitutionary theory of the atonement. It is neat. Clean. It doesn’t involve getting our own hands dirty. It happened. We know it. We believe it. We accept it. We’re in the club.

The only problem is that our neat little theory, as old and as popular as it might be, doesn’t take the story nearly as seriously as it ought to. It papers over it. So, over the next several weeks we are going to walk through the story slowly. As we let it sink it, it will strike us like never before. As it ought to.

The text says that Jesus headed to Jerusalem, knowing what was to come. Whatever earthly fears he might have had, whatever tendencies toward self-preservation might have been inside of him, he turned to walk toward Jerusalem. Among his virtues was courage. The courage to do the right thing. The courage to not back down. The courage that is driven by love, not hate, not greed, not power. The kind of courage, and the kind of cause, that terrifies the power structures of this world, and therefore, the kind of courage that must be stopped.

This year has marked 50 years since the assassinations of Dr. King and Robert Kennedy. Both men brought good news to the poor. Both men spoke truth to the powerful that the powerless deserved justice. Both men changed over their lives. They evolved. They both became, in the eyes of the world, more radical. They needed to be stopped.

Abraham Lincoln was killed on Good Friday in 1865. He too came to see life differently along the way. He too fell at the feet of the powerful forces who resented what Lincoln had done, and continued to do, on behalf of the powerless.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer was killed because of his willingness to stand up to a diabolical government that had twisted and coerced even the religious leaders into an evil vision of racial purity and German exceptionalism, dragging the whole world into war.

The text says that the chief priests and elders “gathered in the palace of the high priest.” Of course the high priest lived in a palace (while Jesus had nowhere to lay his head.) They gathered and  “conspired to arrest Jesus by stealth and kill him.” Of course they did. They recognized the threat Jesus posed to them. But they wanted to be careful lest “there may be a riot among the people” Even in planning an assassination, all they cared about was their base, their blind followers as they blindly led them toward shouts of “Crucify him!”

Let us pray: Dear Lord, heal our blindness. Open our ears. Steel our resolved to follow you to and through the cross, even as it calls for our own surrender, our own letting go, our own repentance for our complicity with the powerful. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’

Then they also will answer, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?’

Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.” Matthew 25:41-46

The interesting thing about this story – and the tragic thing about this story – is that everyone is surprised. Those who did the right thing in their lives by those who most needed it were unaware that they were doing anything significant or special. And those who failed to do the right thing had no idea what the right things to do were, and therefore no idea of their own failure. Everyone is surprised….in the story.

But we aren’t living in that story. It is a story that has been told to us. We are on THIS side of it. And this isn’t just any old story. Jesus is telling this story. And he is telling it right before he steps into the last days of his earthly life. While I think we would agree that every word that Jesus teaches us is important, there is something about this one that strikes at the heart of his message, his purpose, and his expectations of his disciples.

We should also notice that there is nothing particularly new about anything that Jesus teaches here. Consider Isaiah 42:6-7, “I am the Lord, I have called you in righteousness, I have taken you by the hand and kept you; I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness.”

If there is anything new at all it is that this is the sort of stuff that Jesus actually DID. He didn’t have much time or patience for picayune matters of religiosity…but he always had time for broken, outcast, hurting, or hungry people. Everyone knows that! Atheists know that!

The scandal of the Christian faith these days (all days?) is how it is that so many have forgotten the simple words of Jesus. The poor? A bunch of welfare queens and deadbeats who ought to go out and get jobs. The hungry? Cut food stamps, it is a waste of hard-earned taxpayer money. Those in prison? They shouldn’t have crossed the border in the first place. The lonely outcasts? Don’t even talk to me about gays or lesbians or transgendered persons or any of the other deviants who suffer and seek to be seen, heard, and accepted.

Do people really believe and say those things? Do Christian people really say those things? Of course, some do. Even some Christians do. Sometimes it seems as if they have little else to say. And they seemingly have no idea how un-Christlike such beliefs are.

No wonder, when asked about religious affiliations, “Nones” are the fastest growing group in our country. It is NOT about the loss of objective truth, or the loss of belief in the teachings in the Bible. It is about the disconnect between the message of Jesus – a message of radical love, inclusivity, basic decency, justice for all – and the messages of the followers of Jesus who have gotten far off track.

Without even realizing it.

Let us pray: Dear Lord, wake us up to the reality of our beliefs and actions. Open our eyes to see the world around us as you see it, the people around us as you see them, ourselves in the mirror as you see us. Open our hearts, our minds, our spirits, that we might follow you, rather than twisting you into our own image. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me. Matthew 25:37-40

When a parent tells their child to take out the garbage or to clean their room, they aren’t inviting a conversation about the nature of garbage or an argument about the organizational standards a child chooses for their own sleeping environment. The parent expects the child to take out the garbage or clean their room. Said expectation is fulfilled when, and only when, the garbage has been taken out or the room is cleaned by said child. Period.

Why ought what seems crystal clear when talking about earthly parents and children seem so cloudy when it comes to what the Bible tells us about the will of God?

Since Jesus is the one telling this story, isn’t it safe to say that feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, welcoming the stranger, clothing the naked, and visiting the sick and imprisoned is right there at the center of what Jesus would want his people to be about in the world? It is a laundry list of the sort of thing that Jesus did. He set an example. He modeled exemplary behavior. He expects those who follow him to do the same.

The interesting thing is that the “righteous” – those who got it right by aligning their lives to the model of Jesus (Jesus sets the standard for righteousness) – don’t even realize what they did. They are the children who took out the garbage because they saw – just like their parents could – that the garbage was full and needed therefore to be taken out.

I trust every parent has seen that happen. They have returned home from work to smell dinner cooking because a child knew it was going to be dinnertime again that day too. The garbage out because the can was full. The floor vacuumed because it needed it. The room picked up because it had gotten messy. Even without asking. No fuss. No arguments. It is wonderful when that happens. And, in most families, it is rare.

The righteous don’t realize that they have been doing what is right. To them it seems that they have only been doing what is obvious. They are shocked when the king says that “just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”

The writer of 1 John would later encapsulate this scene with the words, “Those who say, “I love God,” and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen.” Love, in this passage and in life itself, is not a feeling. It is a decision to be loving. Thus it might look like a meal, access to fresh water, welcoming, rather than rejecting, those who are different, comprehensive immigration reform, access to affordable health care, bringing justice into the criminal justice system.

The king commands us to clean our rooms. Are we willing?

Let us pray: Dear Lord, we live in a world that tells us that might makes right. Again this morning, you remind us that right makes right. That there is a right way to live and it is measured by the care, concern, and justice afforded to the most vulnerable among us. This turns our world upside down. It might even heal it. Guide us to do right today. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’” Matthew 25:34-36

Sometimes it is helpful to remember the vast gulf between us and the people of Jesus’ day. While human nature might not change, human conditions certainly have.

In Jesus’ day, the vast majority of people lived on a subsistence diet that barely kept them alive. There was nothing approaching what we know as the “middle class.” There was the rich and the extremely rich and those that suffered under grinding poverty. There were no opportunities to change one’s position in life.

The good news that Jesus brought was not only the forgiveness of sin, it was the promise of healing of all that separates us from God and from one another, including peoples’ public social realities and physical needs. It was good news for the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick, and the imprisoned. It was good news for those who needed it most. Conversely, it was a real challenge – and still is – to those who had plenty to eat, drink, and wear. A challenge to those who sat at the “top” of the humanly created pecking orders of life.

In Jesus’ day, the remarkable thing about Christian community was how it reached across dividing lines of class, culture, and gender. People who otherwise might not have anything to do with each other beyond social and economic functions joined their lives as a community. They shared what they had with one another. The writer of Acts says “All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need.”

We certainly have poverty and hunger and oppression in our culture today. No question about that. But we have softened those realities with the work of non-profit caring efforts, and state and federal programs for the poor and the poorest of the poor. There is also real opportunity for upward mobility for those that work hard and take advantage of those opportunities.

Along the way we have learned that efforts to create and sustain large populations of people on the principle of “from each according to their abilities, to each according to their needs” doesn’t work. It might sound good on paper but the dark side of human nature gets in the way. All human systems are vulnerable to corruption, self-dealing, and catering to those that accumulate power and wealth while ignoring the common good. All human systems see life from the top down.

Jesus would lead us, instead, to view life from the bottom up. To consider – in our personal and public lives – first the needs of the poorest of the poor. There will always be enough for all.

Let us pray: Soften our hearts and open our eyes, O Lord, that we might see the world as Jesus did. That the good news which we both receive and share, be truly good news for the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick, and the imprisoned. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left.” Matthew 25:31-33

Like many other people in Houston, I was disappointed at the news that Lebron James had decided to take his basketball skills to Los Angeles. Nothing against Lo$ Angele$, he had lot$ of great rea$on$ for moving there….but it would have fun to see him play for my town.

I’m thinking of Lebron today because he will always come up on the list of NBA GOAT’s. I find it just a bit ironic that we use GOAT to refer to the “greatest of all time.” Ironic because anyone who has read the Bible knows, like the childrens’ song has long taught us, “I would rather be a sheep, bah, bah, bah, bah.”

Jesus turns the heat up now in the 25^th chapter of Matthew. Now he isn’t telling stories about unnamed masters and slaves, now he is painting a picture of a future to which “all the nations” are heading. He describes a gathering together of the scattered nations and a sorting process that puts some on the left and some on the right. The sheep and the goats. I just wanna be a sheep.

We’ll have to read on to learn more about this sorting process but for today – especially as we in the United States prepare to eat hamburgers and hot dogs to celebrate Independence Day – let’s notice just how undemocratic this future vision is. The Son of Man is in charge. The sheep and the goats have no say in the matter. Regardless of their earthly power, their constant jostling for position, their past tales of glory, “all the nations” are reduced to farm animals.

The Good Shepherd, once reduced to pastel images of carrying the lost sheep home or surrounded by children, is now the Great Separator. Backed up by an army of angels.

Anyone, it seems to me, upon hearing this brief introduction to the story that will now carry us to the end of the chapter, will end up wanting to be a sheep. They just might not want what it takes.

Let us pray: Dear Lord, our ears perk up at the idea of a great separation. We don’t want to be left out, or left behind, or found wanting. We don’t want to be exposed. We want to be insulated and protected and privileged. We like the illusions of control. We like to justify our likes and defend our divisions and protect our preferences. But we know the day will come when all of that will be stripped away. Help us live today as we want to be found on that one. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Then the one who had received the one talent also came forward, saying, ‘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.’

But his master replied, ‘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. So take the talent from him, and give it to the one with the ten talents.

For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ Matthew 25:24-30

Now we come to the twist in the story. If this was a movie, here the soundtrack would change from the light-hearted joy of the master and the servants celebrating their mutual successes in doubling their talents to something more ominous. Duh duh duh dahhh…..

The first thing we notice is that the description of the master offered by this final slave doesn’t quite fit the actions of the master we have seen thus far. He showed great trust in his servants to take appropriate care of the assets entrusted to them. He rewarded them handsomely for their efforts. But this final slave doesn’t see that in his master at all.

There is a disconnect between the master as he is in the real world and the master that exists in the minds’ eye of this third slave. To him, the master is harsh and greedy. He was afraid so he took the easy way out. He buried his talent for safe-keeping to make sure he could return it intact. At least he was honest about it. But then he loses everything. His fears are confirmed. The master does appear cruel and capricious.

We saw this ending coming from the very start. The other two went to work, the third buried his talent. Right at that point we knew that this wasn’t going to end well for him. He failed in his imagination even before he picked up the shovel to bury his talent. He had already decided there was no pleasing this evil master so he didn’t even try. He took the easy way out. In digging a hole for his talents he failed to see that he was already digging a hole for himself.

How does the ending of the story sound in your ears? Just or unjust? Fair or unfair? How does the story leave you feeling about the master? Is he, or isn’t he, the kind of master you want to work for?

I once worked for a boss who struck fear in the hearts of all of us. He was a gifted, talented, visionary man but he was also moody and quick to get angry. (Many people might have seen the same things in their parents.) If he showed up and we were hard at work, all was well. But if we were loafing, just seeing his car coming down the road made a pit in my stomach. We jumped into action, looking busy. That was the worst part of that job.

We could cynically say, “Well, that sounds about right. The rich get richer and the poor get poorer. Everybody gets what they deserve. Like it or not, life is a meritocracy and to the victor goes the spoils. You get what you work for and, if you don’t work, you’re gonna get it.”  Is that really the way the world works? Is that really the world we want to live in?

Maybe that is how Jesus intends for us to hear the story – it both encourages and troubles us. We’re drawing ever closer to the end (of this stage) of the Jesus story. At this point his disciples have largely been around for the ride. Maybe this story is intended to wake them up, to shake them up. I know that is what it does to me.

Let us pray: Dear Lord, we see all of these slaves in ourselves. Sometimes, and in some places in our lives, we are bold and full of confidence. In others, we are fearful, lazy. We don’t want to be useless and we certainly don’t want to wake up on a trash heap. Come to us in our imaginations that we might see your love for us, toward us. Take away our fear that we might be freed to do what lies ahead of us, what only we can do. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them. Then the one who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five more talents, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me five talents; see, I have made five more talents.’ His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’

And the one with the two talents also came forward, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me two talents; see, I have made two more talents.’ His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ Matthew 25:19-23

As I shared yesterday, we use the word “talent” today to refer to something that a person is good at, something they are gifted at doing. In Jesus’ day, it was a unit of measurement. A talent of gold today would be worth more than $1 million. Consider that and you will realize the cartoonish character of this parable. Cartoonish not in terms of funny or silly, but more in the way of a political cartoon – biting.

Imagine hearing this story from Jesus’ own mouth. Instead of doing what we do as we read them from the Bible – we immediately, without conscious thought, spiritualize them so that the master is “God” and the slaves are “us” – the first hearers might have heard them at face value. They would have realized that the master was crazy.

No master in their right mind would leave that kind of money with his slaves and then disappear for a long time, at least long enough to allow them to double his money. If not crazy, then the master must have been incredibly trusting, and the slaves trustworthy. Imagine that. There lies the bite.

While we might like to live in a world like that, we know that isn’t how life normally works.

Another way to hear this story, rather than a business transaction, is to hear it as an argument from the lessor to the greater, as a test of the trustworthiness of the slaves. If they prove faithful in some measure, they will gain greater responsibilities.

Once again, even here, the master is taking a huge risk. They might fail. He might lose everything.

So, in the end, is this a story about the master or a story about the slaves? Call it a test or call it a deal, the master remains a crazy risk-taker. Have you ever imagined God as a crazy risk-taker?

Do you trust that God knows what God is doing in creating you, gifting you, deploying you in the world as an agent of God’s love? Use well your gifts, good and trustworthy servant.

Let us pray: Dear Lord, while our shortcomings and limitations might never be far from our minds, the scariest parts of us are our possibilities and capabilities, all gifts from you. We love because you first loved us. Love is crazy. Love takes risks. Love means letting go. When we love others, what we give away is doubled. May we love today. In Jesus’ name. Amen.