Stewardship Sunday Matthew 25:14-30; 1 Cor 4:1-2

November 24, 2002 Beth Ernest

In Jesus’ parable of the talents, he talks of three servants who receive money from their master, a master who goes away on a long journey. Who are these servants? They are you. They are me. They are all of us who belong to Jesus. Who is the master who gives out coins and then disappears? Jesus himself. Where does he go on his long journey? He dies, is resurrected after three days, and ascends to the Father, promising to return someday, but leaving the servants to care for the talents given them. During the long wait, each servants is expected to be faithful stewards of these talents. Of course, the three respond differently, two investing the wealth, and one burying it in fear. In this parable, what is Jesus saying we are to be stewards of? Is this a story about money? About wealth? If it were, how could those who have no wealth whatsoever be included in this story?

The parable is not about money, rather it is a parable dealing with our faith. And as much as it deals with our faith, it is about a God who takes seriously the faith that is in us and how we are, or are not, stewards of that faith. In that, it is a parable of judgment.

By some definitions of the word, "faith," we might expect that Jesus is suggesting we are to build a complex and watertight belief system in his absence. Start with biblical truths, add some creeds, memorize some catechisms, and get all those great truths ready to deliver at a moment’s notice. Stewardship of our faith consists of adding a list of doctrines to our basic belief in Jesus as the Son of God. But this would be an incorrect definition of faith. Faith is not a set of knowledge. Faith is not a plan or set of rules and definitions by which we pattern our lives. Faith is a relationship with a living God. A God, "'In (whom) we live and move and have our being'" (Acts 17:28).

Yes, we have knowledge and doctrines, but they set us in motion, they don’t box us in. Two weeks ago we talked about the stewardship of the mind, and how it is important to learn about our faith. I do not mean to un-say now what I said then. We do need to study, and share and learn about the particulars of the faith and apply our minds judiciously to what we learn. But learning the faith is not its own goal—we learn the faith to use it, and to let it shape us into useful vessels for God. Faith, pistis, in Greek, is often used as a verb. In Greek, you "faith" an idea or you "faith" Christ. Faith is active, and so we can expect that our faith might grow or decline as we are more or less active in our faith.

Pistis gives the sense of agreeing with, obeying, trusting, yielding or relying on Christ for our salvation. There is a sense in which this type of faith cannot even be learned—it is a gift of God, a free gift, yet one which will require a final accounting. Studies and surveys show that people come to faith in different ways—some do initially come from reading the Bible and assenting to the facts and stories written there. They become convinced of its truth and claim it as their own. Others come to faith by reaching out to others in service. They get bitten by the mission bug, one might say, and hear God calling them to service. Others come to faith directly through the heart—an assurance of sins forgiven or burdens lifted, a sense that God is holding on and won’t let go. However we come to faith, we have the responsibility to bring that faith to ever deeper levels, which means exercising it and stretching it in different ways.

Imagine this scenario in the parable of the talents:

A master, before he went away on a long journey, gave a gift of faith to his three servants. While he was gone, the servants lived life; in various times of these lives were some successes, some sorrows and losses, some gnarly situations, questions and musings, and lots of same-old, same-old stuff. When the master returned after his long journey, he summoned the servants before him and asked what they had done with his gift of faith.

The first servant had used his faith as the shield that protected him from disbelief and the comforter that sheltered him through life’s painful situations. He had seen the disbelief of others and freely shared his faith with them. Rather than clutching all his possessions to himself, he had had trust that God would provide, and so, shared his earthly good with others. When called for an accounting, his faith had gown many times over. The master rewarded him with a hearty, "Well done!"

The second servant had come upon hard times as we all do, and felt free to examine his faith, wondering in conversation with God about the whys and wherefores of good and evil, success and failure, joy and hurt. The second servant had also found in his intense study of God’s word, that he didn’t understand everything or necessarily agree with everything, but he had given it over to God in his prayer life. Throughout his life of conversation and even wrangling with God, he had come to find a great familiarity in God’s ways, which brought him joy. At the time of his accounting, the master likewise rewarded him with a hearty, "Well done!"

The third servant received the gift of faith from God but soon forgot he had it. Every once in a while, usually around major holidays, he would dust it off and try to reacquaint himself with the outer trappings of the gift, especially the moral packaging. He "held to the outward form of godliness but denied its power" (2 Tim 3:5). When faced with adversities, the servant mumbled something about, "Hmmph! What kind of God would let that happen?" but then would not try to find out the answer to his own question. He believed that religion, like politics, was a topic you shouldn’t talk about, so it didn’t occur to him to ask other people about their faith life or to offer God’s gift to them. In his "dark nights of the soul," he did pray, but depended on his own strength to go on. After all, God helps those who help themselves. On the day of accounting, this servant made all kinds of excuses to the master such as—"I was busy," "Religion is for little kids and old ladies," "You let such and such happen to me!" "Hey, why are you sore? I had my kids baptized! I was good!" But the master rose up against this unfaithful steward, and had him thrown into the outer darkness.

What is it about this last servant that made him a bad steward? First, he didn’t risk. Whether we invest our money or our faith or our love, there is risk involved. Ask a couple that has been married for 35 years—is there a risk when you stand at the altar and say, "I do"? Sure there is! We don’t know what the future brings. When we say, "I do," to God, we don’t know what is going to happen. So we find that facing each day with faith has risk. We risk being hurt. We risk not understanding God’s answers and provision for us. We risk being called to do things and go places we never thought we would like to do or go—whether interior to ourself our exterior to ourself. Some risks in life are great—we might compare them to investing in foreign stocks. Others risks are more conservative—like investing in government bonds. But all our investments will move and change. That is the nature of investments. We might win this one. We might lose that one. But our faith is being engaged and excercised all the way.

God takes a phenomenal risk on us. He is the great Risker. He turned humanity loose to see what would happen! He chose a people who didn’t seem particularly like they wanted to be chosen. He choose leaders like Moses—a hot-headed murderer, and Peter—a hot-headed coward. He sent his only Son to face death! God knows what it is to risk and lose it all! He doesn’t get sore if we risk and lose, in fact, he’ll pick us up and dust us off as many times as we need. But, he gets sore if we hold our lives and our faith so close to our chests that he can’t get in there! A life of faith is not a life where we play it safe—faith brings risk. No risk, no growth.

The third servant is also a poor steward because he wanted a relationship with God on his own terms. The servant’s understanding of God was quite limited, but he expects God to accept it as his excuse. "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.' (Matt 25: 24,25). "Bah! Humbug!" If that is all the servant knew about God, he don’t know much. The servant seems to have forgotten that he received the gift in the first place for use all those years. Seems pretty generous to me.

But this aspect of the servant’s response begs some questions: Does fear control our relationship to God? Are we afraid to get close to him? Are we afraid of a relationship with him, which is, after all, what faith is? If we are afraid, we too, will be poor stewards of our faith and it will stay buried in the ground where, eventually, it will just rust away. It will neither be a resource for our living or our dying.

When we truly get to know God, we will be overwhelmed by his love, not his harshness. It says in 1 John 4 18, "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love."

This God with whom we enter a relationship of faith is a God of love. This is a great mystery, that God should love his creation, and want a relationship with it. It is even more mysterious that God should die for his creation, creating a way for salvation for the lost. Paul describes this as a great mystery. He calls believers, "…servants of Christ and stewards of God's mysteries" (1 Cor 4:1). "Moreover," he says, "it is required of stewards that they be found trustworthy" (1 Cor 4:2).

We are in relationship with a mysterious God, a God we will not always understand. Our faith tells us to trust, to cling to God, and not to our own strengths which will not only prove to be inadequate, but will prove to be the wrong answer. At our final accounting, we will be asked what we have done with the gift of faith God has invested in us. Will we hear, "Well done, good and faithful servant…I will put you in charge of many things. Enter into the joy of my master." Or will we hear, "'You wicked and lazy servant"?

What situation in your life right now needs a big dose of faith? Where do you need to risk? to cast out fear? Where do you need to allow honest doubts to surface? God is always willing to help. Step closer into that relationship of faith with God, and see how beautifully he will bear you up.

May we all be found to be trustworthy stewards.