Readings (Track 1)

Two Sundays out from the beginning of a new church year, our readings are all over the map, threatening to turn any sermon into an exercise in herding cats.

Let’s start with the Psalm. The petitionary psalms often start with a description of the problem; this one leaves that for the last one and a half verses. This psalm focuses on that time period—whether short or long—between the petition and the Lord’s response. The Lord is merciful (Amen!); the Lord has not yet shown us his mercy.

That’s not a comfortable place to be, but not unfamiliar territory for the Lord’s people. Our first reading from Judges: in the repeated cycle of disobedience, oppression, and deliverance the Lord’s people spend a fair amount of time in that uncomfortable place. That’s one of the reasons we need to be gentle with the folk we encounter: that’s where some of them—like us—are. That’s why Scripture repeatedly talks about hope being important, like Paul in our second reading: “the hope of salvation” as our helmet.

But why begin the sermon focusing on this psalm? Our Gospel will get us thinking about mission (outreach). It’s easy to think about mission as something we do from strength; the psalm reminds us that we periodically do it from a position of weakness.

On to the Gospel reading. Our lectionary has made liberal use of the fast forward button, so a bit of context. Two weeks ago we heard the beginning of Jesus’ critique of the scribes and Pharisees: do as they say, not as they do. Leaving the temple, the disciples encourage Jesus to admire the architectural beauty, which prompts Jesus to talk about the future, both immediate (no two stones left in place) and ultimate (the coming of the Son of Man). One of the first things Jesus says about that future: “you will be hated by all nations because of my name” (24:9). That takes us back to today’s psalm (“the scorn of the indolent rich, / and of the derision of the proud.”). Hope, along with Faith and Love: the challenge is to nurture these also on the bad days.

Anyhow, Jesus ends the discourse with a warning: “But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.” The coming of the Son of Man: it’ll be as unexpected as Noah’s flood.

So how do we live with this uncertainty? Jesus tells three parables. In the first while the faithful slave keeps doing his work, the wicked slave takes advantage of the master’s absence. When the master returns, it doesn’t end well for that slave. So don’t assume “unknown date” means “never.”

We heard the second parable, the wise and foolish bridesmaids, last week. Wisdom and folly matter as we wait for the bridegroom to return. Picking up on the vocabulary common to the parable and the ending of the Sermon on the Mount, I suggested that the wisdom and folly in question have to do with recognizing the difference between saying “Lord, Lord” and doing what the Lord says. And undoubtedly there are other profitable ways of reading that parable.

We heard the third parable, the talents, today. The master has given his slaves the resources to do some work in his absence, and comes down hard on the slave who has simply buried the talent. If one of the disciples asked Jesus why he was telling the parable, I wish Matthew had included the answer! So making sense of the parable is largely guesswork. The third slave recognizes that doing anything with the talent involves risk, and decides that the important thing is not to lose the talent. That, in the master’s eyes, misses the point. And trading five talents to get ten, two talents to get four: that sounds like there’s some serious risk involved. So maybe if our decision making is governed by minimizing risk, we might want to reread the parable.

The master—I said a moment ago—has given his slaves the resources to do some work in his absence. What can we say about that work? If we pull back the camera to include all of Matthew’s Gospel we might notice two things. First, Jesus repeatedly sends his disciples out to proclaim the Kingdom / make disciples. This proclamation includes healings, exorcisms, as well as the lifestyle of the disciples. The Gospel culminates with what we call “The Great Commission.” “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations.” So there are disciples even in…Wisconsin. Second, there’s that “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy” (5:7). That’s at the heart of Jesus’ argument with some of the Pharisees: “Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice’” (9:13). And in the judgment scene we’ll hear next week it’s the practice of mercy that separates the sheep and goats.

Making disciples, showing mercy. Nurturing the love of the Lord God and neighbor. That’s one way of thinking about the work in today’s parable; perhaps it will nudge you to come up with more adequate ways. In any case, it’s the obvious segue into Stewardship Sunday. In the language of today’s parable, we’ve all been entrusted with some talents, some combination of time, abilities, and financial resources. The parable encourages us to make wise—maybe including risky—use of all that, not simply the part directed toward St Peter’s. There are plenty of folk out there who need Jesus. There are plenty of folk out there who need more mercy than’s currently on offer. And, recalling today’s psalm, at any given moment some of us are right there with the psalmist: “our eyes look to the Lord our God, / until he show us his mercy.” On behalf of the Vestry, I encourage you with your giving estimate to position St Peter’s to respond to the opportunities our Lord has set before us.