A man going on a journey
called in his servants and entrusted his possessions to them.
To one he gave five talents; to another, two; to a third, one–
to each according to his ability.
We have been entrusted with blessings from the Lord, each according to our ability. If we trust in the Lord's judgment and put our blessings to work in the service of his Kingdom we will produce an impressive return on his investment.
Immediately the one who received five talents went and traded with them,
and made another five.
Likewise, the one who received two made another two.
We do not always trust the Lord as the one to judge our ability. We sometimes receive his blessings, but then, like the man who received one talent, bury them out of fear. This is not a healthy fear of the Lord that leads to wisdom. It is rather a fear about ourselves that comes when we ourselves dominate the focus. Perhaps we see ourselves as less deserving than our fellow servants who may have received a larger number of talents. Rather than being honored to be entrusted with a share of the master's possessions we may begin to focus on our apparent lack of worth compared them, to give in to self-pity, and to give up before we even make a first effort.
But the man who received one went off and dug a hole in the ground
and buried his master's money.
A light is not meant to be hidden under a bushel basket. But if we are afraid of what we be revealed about us when we let that light shine we might do exactly that. We are called to trust that it is better for the light to shine than to continue to stumble in the dark. Yes, we will encounter our own limits and liabilities. But only in the light can these be addressed. Receiving one talent is not meant to be a condemnation. It is meant to be a starting place. This could have been a beginning in which one who had would receive more and grow rich. But for the man in the parable, fear prevented him from really receiving the talent. He kept it distant where it was unable to do its work. When it was buried it was as though he did not have it at all. In the end, there was nothing for the master to do but to reclaim it so that it could be put to better use, although he certainly would not have preferred that outcome.
Master, I knew you were a demanding person,
harvesting where you did not plant
and gathering where you did not scatter;
so out of fear I went off and buried your talent in the ground.
The master is described as someone who can derive a result that is disproportionate to the initial circumstances or investment. The servant given one talent knew about this reputation for the miraculous that surrounded the master, but regarded it only with fear. We sometimes see a similar response when we consider the impressive holiness and miracles that filled the lives of saints, a response of fear rather than imitation. Rather than rejoicing that we have received some measure of what the saints have received we believe ourselves to be cut from different cloth, unable to be anything like them. We impose limits based how we judge ourselves and how we think we compare to others instead of believing that the only limits on us are those by which the master himself judges our abilities.
If only we would believe more in the master whose divine riches make possible any return on his investment. We would then no longer see receiving only one talent as a condemnation, but as infinite possibility. That one talent invested with faith, hope, and love, could in fact produce a larger result many talents invested only casually and half-heartedly. One seems like too little to make a difference. But if we are attentive to the one that we have been given and not the five which were for another we can yet hope for a miraculous return, just as the master himself harvested where he did not plant, because it is then that we allow the master's own riches to do their work in our lives.
Rather, God chose the foolish of the world to shame the wise,
and God chose the weak of the world to shame the strong,
and God chose the lowly and despised of the world,
those who count for nothing,
to reduce to nothing those who are something,
so that no human being might boast before God.
It might well be God's will to do more with one talent, with a small act of great love, than anyone would expect. It is in keeping with his character that he would delight to show that the faithful response of an apparently under equipped servant was worth more than the investment of many others whose abilities seemed much greater on the surface. We may need a little holy foolishness to trust the Lord when he invites us to go out into a competitive market with only one talent. But it is not our own wealth that we put to work when we do so, it is his own. When we remember that fact we can grow in confidence, not in ourselves, but in him.
Whoever boasts, should boast in the Lord.
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