Sermon for November 13

Text: Matthew 25:14-30
Preached: November 13, 2011; 22nd Sunday after Pentecost; YEAR A
Reformed Dutch Church of Claverack, NY

When my kids were school-agers,I remember how fun it would be for them to have friends over,
and to listen to them chatting away, not at all concerned, or even aware, that I was well within earshot.
I remember my daughter Sarah’s good friend Karen.
Karen was third in a line of 6 or 7 siblings; that was part of her charm for Sarah, the youngest of 3.

 One day Sarah and Karen’s conversation turned to the subject of church –where their families worshiped, what they did in church, and so on.

I heard Karen say, “We don’t go to church anymore; we used to, but now we don’t because all they do is ask for money.”
Of course this wonderful child was repeating what she’d learned within her household;
I don’t remember where Karen and Sarah’s conversation went after her comment;
it probably flowed seamlessly into another pertinent topic for them. Exactly what a conversation between 12 year old girls does effortlessly.

But I remember that my heart flipped a little sad flip. I was sad that Karen’s family had to feel that way. Maybe the minister and other leaders in her church WERE always asking for money. But it’s just as likely that Karen’s parents, unable to absorb that the asking was not only directed toward them, but to the entire congregation,

felt inadequate, or worried,  defensive,  chagrined.

 Perhaps you’ve wondered as I have over the years: How are we supposed to talk about money in the church? How can we be both encouraging of one another and straight-forwardabout what the needs are to continue to function as a congregation with a full time pastor and with maintained property and with the ability to be faithful

in our care for the world and its people with all their deep needs?
How can the invitation to generously financially support the church
be  just that – invitational – not making people feel inadequate or worried,
defensive or chagrined? How can we talk enough about finances without giving the impression that the church  is “always asking for money?”

 Let me be more personal in this sermon today.

 I’ve been in some form of pastoral ministry now for nearly 20 years. I graduated from Western Theological Seminary in 1992 and before that had served on a consistory of a Reformed Church as an elder.

So, as you can imagine, I’ve gone through many, many church budget planning sessions and have watched the unfolding of particular plans throughout a following year. I’ve watched that, been part of that in several congregations.
I’ve watched the faithfulness of God’s people and sometimes along with that their fear and doubt. I’ve never witnessed God’s unfaithfulness. Which is not the same as saying
that I’ve never witnessed a congregation needing to change its spending plan during the course of a fiscal year.

But the instances of that are rare.

ssssssssss

I wonder,what, if anything, today’s gospel lesson says to all of this.

Perhaps you’ve noticed how often the parables that Jesus told have servants or slaves and masters in them. That’s because as a storyteller who wanted to get his hearers listening and imagining, he used life situations with which they were very familiar.

Jesus moved around within an agrarian culture; within his stories there are several references to growing seasons and the harvesting of crops. Along with that, 1^st century Palestine was a place in which the social structure included a hierarchy that firmly delineated servants and slaves from landowners and masters. Probably if Jesus were telling parables today, he would be more inclined to talk sports, both from the stand-point of the athlete and the spectator, or presidential debates, or the astounding uses of the latest version of the iphone.

 But the parable we read in Matthew 25 is about a man who gave three of his slaves

part of his property—something tangible—a chunk of money. Two of the slaves,  the ones with the most money, take some risks, and end up doubling their investments.
And one slave is just too afraid of losing; he keeps his money safe the only way he knows how – he stashes it away and doesn’t  touch it after that. And it seems that he does this with a degree of confidence. He knows his master – he thinks he does at least.

But his master is disappointed and tells him he at least could have invested the money with the bankers. Alathough that seems not to be the master’s first choice as to what the slave should have done, but it was an option.

 Too often perhpas we’ve spent time with this story and wondered about the differing amounts of money, or have substituted that word ‘talent’from what it means here – an amount of money, and made it fit with that word’s present day uses – meaning  an aptitude or an ability.

Today lets to set aside thoughts about abilities and forget about the varying amounts of money bestowed. Because they could be beside the point. This is a story about risk.

About its appropriateness.
Perhaps even about its necessity.
Which is not to say that I don’t identify with that cautious servant;  I really do.
I’ll bet he was a decent guy. More than decent.  But I want to learn from his fear.
What was the price for being  afraid to step into the unknown? I see that his life is paralyzed by anxiety. He seems to believe that not risking was the faithful thing to do,
forgetting that to be human is to live in the unknown.

We all live in risk—who of us really knows what tomorrow will bring?

Just getting up and going about our day is an act of faith.

Christian faith is a breathtaking risk because we do not have certainty prior to commitment.  We do not have proof beyond a doubt.  We risk in committing ourselves to a Christ we cannot see. And perhaps we risk even more when we commit ourselves to a Church that we can see.

To be a follower of Jesus Christ means to be willing to lose our lives, let go safety,

relinquish  certainty, in order to gain life. No one can tell us what the specifics of that are—there are  choices each of us make in dependence upon God.

sssssssss

This is difficult stuff. I know.

Remember the churches and their budgets and spending plans that I mentioned earlier in this sermon? Well as challenging as it is to believe, the consistories and congregations that were less insistent upon creating a spending plan in which things lined up perfectly, were more apt to increase in all that they did and to thrive.

And I don’t believe that their bold budgets were the cause of fiscal health, but rather that their adventurous spirits, their faith in God, enabled all those good things to happen

 Friendsw,  God is bigger than our religious industry.

Sometimes we are tempted to protect God—to protect God from having to do the hard work, or what seems to us to be the hard work of pulling in profits in areas
we deem as beyond God’s interests. Oh yes, God wants us to be faithful and thoughtful,
reasonable, but also wants us to join in this business of risk taking.

 If God didn’t take risks, where would we be? Don’t put God under the mattress.  God is out and about, working God’s will in this world.

God's mercy never ends.
God’s mercy never ends.
And that is a way of saying that grace has capital,
love is rich.

 In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.