Portfolio Planning: a look at Matthew 25:14-30 in the season of Thanksgiving

 

Note: I preached this sermon on 11/19 at the Community of the Savior in Rochester NY. Parts specific to that church have been removed.

 

We heard more and more about this man, a financial planner and entrepreneur. People we knew raved about how much money he was making from their investments. He would buy run down properties, pay a crew to re-model them, and then rent or sell them for big profits. He knew our area and had a keen eye for real estate with income-making potential. We had two young daughters and both would be heading to college not many years off. Our combined income was modest. It sounded so good. We met with him and were impressed. Then we went to a good friend who was vice-president of a leading saving institution in our region. We asked if thought we should make such an investment. He agreed that it sounded good and sound, if a bit risky. He said that his savings bank could not give a return anywhere near what was promised it us. And he said, “Don’t invest more than you can afford to lose.”

 

That we did. We took some money that we had been setting aside to build a garage and added a little more to it. He showed us a photo of the property our investment would go into. A short while later he stopped receiving phone calls or visits. He declared bankruptcy—we lost every penny we had invested. But we heeded our banker friend’s advice and didn’t invest more than we could afford to lose. We didn’t build that garage until years later, after our daughters finished college. We took a risk, which we deemed reasonable. We lost our investment, but we survived and have even thrived since.

 

Investment is a key concept in responsible living. When we get a job, we may set up some sort of investment, like an IRA. If we have children, we may invest in their future by giving them piano or ice-skating lessons. We don’t know if they will become accomplished pianists or Olympic athletes—or ever make any money or even make a living from those disciplines—but we are investing in them. They are worth it.

 

This parable has long been known as the parable of the talents. However, we use the word talents in a very different way today, for instance skills such as playing an instrument or skating on a hockey team. Back then a talent was a balance used for weighing amounts of metals, like silver and gold. A talent in that time meant a great amount of money, perhaps several years’ wages. That word often translated talent is used in two places in the New Testament. The first is in the parable of the unforgiving servant in Matthew 18. You may remember that he was forgiven a great amount of money, 10,000 talents in the parable, which was millions of dollars, but then unwilling to forgive a co-worker a few dollars. The second instance is in today’s Gospel. Those are the only two occurrences. And I was assigned both! Yes, two months I preached from the parable of the forgiven-but-unforgiving servant and now I am preaching from the parable of the three servants entrusted with money. This has me wondering. Am I a very talent-challenged guy? Or is God about to entrust a great deal of money to me and see what I do with it? I am available, Lord!

 

Jesus’ parables are not elaborate allegories, but simple stores from everyday life that he uses to make single points, often sharp points, even uncomfortable points, and sometimes surprising points. What is the point of this parable? It seems to me that the point is this: when God has entrusted us with something, we are expected to do something with that trust. Not to bury it, but to invest it.

 

Jesus and the writers of the New Testament often warn against the dangers of having earthly riches. And for reason. In the world today, the richest 1% hold just over half of the world’s total wealth. In our country, the three wealthiest people have about as much wealth as the bottom 50%. Wealth is not evenly spread or shared, and those with much wealth, the Bible warns, can believe that they are better than others, smarter than others, and even more blessed by God than others—all of which are insidious traps. There is danger in trusting in our own wealth. I really like one of those three richest Americans: Warren Buffet. He has challenged the wealthiest to a giving pledge, that they will give more than 50% of their holdings—either while they are alive or upon their deaths—to concerns such as poverty alleviation, refugee aid, disaster relief, global health, education, women and girls’ empowerment, medical research, arts and culture, criminal justice reform, and environmental sustainability. I like that list. I believe that a number approaching 200 billionaires have already signed that pledge, including Bill and Melinda Gates, the wealthiest Americans. I like that pledge. We don’t have to be billionaires to respond to this challenge. Would that more congregations had a commitment to ministry parity, which means investing in ministry beyond ourselves as much as ministry among ourselves.

 

The challenge of this parable is to invest in God’s work, whether we have been entrusted with much or little. The third servant was entrusted with a smaller amount than the first two. The problem is not that smaller amount, but what he does with it. He buries the trust. He hides his gift. The other two made investments. The amount didn’t matter, but the act of investing, even if there was risk. Before the master could confront him, he came forward and said, “Master, I knew that you were a harsh man; I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground.” His problem was a deficient view of his master. I assume that Jesus is likening God to the master in the story. The third servant’s problem is that he did not see his master as gracious and generous, but harsh and exacting. His attitude about his master shapes his behavior. What would we do with what is entrusted to us if we see God as generous? God has invested in us so graciously and generously. In Jesus, God has entrusted the greatest gift to us. Doesn’t that make us want to be more gracious and generous? God calls us to be co-investors in what God is doing on planet earth.

 

The statistics about the giving of American Christians are grim. The percentage of our income that we give is embarrassingly low. I wonder if the biggest hurdle in American Christianity is that we don’t see God as gracious and generous; hence we tend not to gracious and generous. Christians are only giving at 2.5 percent per capita. What would happen if believers were to increase their giving to a minimum of 10 percent? There would be an additional $165 billion for churches to use and distribute. Here are just a few things the Church could do with the kind of money:

• $25 billion could relieve global hunger, starvation, and deaths from preventable diseases in five years.
• 
$12 billion could eliminate illiteracy in five years.
• $15 billion could solve the world’s water and sanitation issues, specifically in places where 1 billion people live on less than $1 per day.
• $100 billion plus would still be left over for additional ministry expansion.

I believe God equips us for everything God calls us to be and to do. This is an exciting time, a time for investing in our Lord’s work in increasing ways. Who of us would want the Lord to find us burying what he has entrusted to us because we were fearful and saw God as harsh? Wouldn’t we rather hear the Lord say, “Well done, good and trustworthy servant; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master?” This investment mentality, this good understanding of financial stewardship, is all about entering into the joy of the Lord. Here and now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jill, a friend from church, and I visited Carl at his assisted living home on a gray November morning (is there any other kind of November morning?). Carl is quite old, suffering declining hearing and sight, but still cheerful. We happened to arrive just as Mass was beginning, not by plan, and Carl was not about to leave Mass. Carl is traditionally Roman Catholic, while we are Protestants. We took seats in the second row (everyone else was in one oval-shaped row). The altar was set on a rec room kind of table in a room that serves for table games, ice cream socials (five flavors were listed on the board), and movies. The priest was Nigerian; English was clearly his second language. His assistant, Carol, was Miss Sunshine in the very best sense of the word: friendly, cheerful, with a voice stronger than her slight frame would have suggested, and making sure everyone had worship guides in hand.

 

We started by singing “Amazing Grace.” The lips of all seventeen worshipers were moving in sync. One man raised both hands in worship. As the priest gave his homily, a few nodded nodded off. Most of the worshipers knew the Eucharistic liturgy by heart and joined in at just the right times. When he brought the host around the circle, he had to wake up one woman. That was all she needed, as she smiled broadly and took her portion of the body of Christ. I smiled too.

 

As the gifts were approaching us, Jill looked at me and whispered something to the effect of, “May we partake?” “They didn’t tell us we couldn’t,” I said. The host was brought to each of us and we partook, with great joy. This was a foretaste of the Great Supper being readied for us in heaven.

 

The final song was “This Little Light of Mine,” the priest nearly dancing as Carol led us. Musically, I could have been at vacation Bible school. I couldn’t help but raise my index finger as we sang, “Let is shine, let it shine, let it shine.”

 

We walked with Carl to his room for a brief visit, and then walked him to the dining hall for lunch, for which he insisted on being early. With the Mass, our visit took far longer than I had reckoned for, yet I drove away smiling and singing, “I’m gonna let it shine, let it shine, let is shine.” It was a good way to spend most of a gray November morning.

I am a patriot, American born and bred and I love my native land. I have traveled widely beyond our borders and that has taught me at least two things: First, every country I have visited, even the poorer ones, have their own unique beauty and pride. I have loved the people of every country I have visited. Second, I love my country, even as I love every other country I have visited. I am proud to be an American.

I am a patriot, and a Democrat. While I usually vote for Democratic candidates at every level, I have voted for Republican candidates at every level. I intend to continue that pattern, usually voting for Democrats but always willing to vote for Republican candidates. I have even voted third party and write-in on rare occasions. I am under no illusions that either major party can solve all our problems. We need one another. While I hold liberal positions on some issues, I hold conservative views on other issues. Republicans are not my enemies. (Two of my favorite presidents were Republicans.)

I am a patriot with friends all over the political spectrum. Some of my best friends, dear friends, are Republicans–and I want it that way. When I served a congregation as their pastor for 38 years, I knew that the congregation spanned the political spectrum, for which I was and am grateful. As a pastor I never told the congregation how I was voting or how they should vote. In my 38 years of leading pastoral prayers on Sundays, I always prayed for the president without regard to party or my views.

I am a patriot and now that I am not the pastor of a congregation I am taking more freedom in expressing some of my political views and opinions. Especially have I done so in this season because so many of Trump’s words deeply offended my faith. I hope that anything I write about politics is drenched in honesty and grace. When that is not the case I ask for forgiveness.

As a patriot I write shortly after the peaceful transfer of power. I am grateful for that peaceful transfer. I did not vote for Mr. Trump. In fact, I was troubled by his candidacy from his announcement a year and a half ago. I watched every Republican debate and simply could not believe that he could win the party’s nomination. His continued pattern of reckless speech berating other candidates and sections of the American population troubled me deeply. When he won the nomination, I thought there was no way he could win the general election, even through Secretary Clinton had lots of baggage and high unfavorable numbers.

Early on last November 9 we found out that Trump won the electoral vote, though in the days following we found out that Clinton won the popular vote by almost 3 million votes. That bothers me. We found out about very probable Russian interference in the election and that bothers me. I found FBI director Comey’s letter to congress 10 days before the election and then retraction of concern a week later very troubling. When Trump backers are troubled that the legitimacy of his presidency is questioned, I remind them that Trump publicly questioned the legitimacy of Obama’s presidency for several years.

I am a patriot and now Trump is president. My president. I accept that, even with the cloud over the election mandate. I will not say that he is not my president as long as he holds the office. What will I do about his presidency?

First, I will pray for him. As a follower of Jesus I am under orders to pray for those in authority. I am doing so and will do so.

Second, I will support his initiatives whenever I can. I will read and listen carefully and give him the benefit of the doubt whenever possible. I believe that he wants America to be great and prosperous.

Third, I will oppose him whenever I believe his actions are not in the best interests of our country and our world. I will always seek to do so in the great Christian tradition of respectful civil disobedience.

I am a patriot, but I am not a nationalist. There is a difference.  I believe that nationalism is dangerous wherever practiced. My nation is often right and often wrong. I love it enough to criticize it. I love it enough to resist when I thing it is wrong.

As a patriot I will not give my country absolute or unqualified allegiance. My absolute and unqualified allegiance will be given only to God and what the New Testament calls the kingdom of God. I will not bow the knee to any governmental leader. I will not make an idol of my country.

As a patriot I am troubled by “America first” language. I want America to prosper and peace to prevail, but I will not hold my nation to be superior to any other nation. I want God to bless all nations. I want my nation to be known for its goodness more than its greatness. As Lincoln often said, I believe that right makes might–and not the reverse.

As a patriot I will continue to respect and hold in high regard Barack Obama. While a flawed human being and, like everyone to hold that office, a flawed president, I found so much commendable in his public life and in his personal life. I have great affection for President Obama and Michelle Obama. Hence, I will recoil strenuously at any comments that belittle him, his wife, and his daughters. The Obamas are great patriots. I give thanks for their service to our nation.

No matter who our president is, about half the nation is not happy with him (and someday soon, I hope, her). Lincoln is my favorite president and he was reviled and hated by millions. The man who assassinated Lincoln thought that his heinous act would make him a hero to millions of Americans. Hanging in my study is a copy of Lincoln’s second inaugural address. I am reading it again, humbled by his humility, wisdom, and grace in our nation’s greatest trial.

While I object to so much Trump has said–and done–I will not hate him. I hope that his time in office is marked by peace and prosperity, with “liberty and justice for all.” I hope that his wife and family are held in respect.

I am a patriot.

 

When Donald J. Trump was running for president he promised that he would make it acceptable to say “Merry Christmas” again. He seemed to believe that political correctness, no doubt under President Obama (who is also responsible for the Civil War and both world wars), made it virtually illegal to say something as offensive as Merry Christmas.

Somehow I missed something. Every December that I can remember, including recent ones, even the last eight years, I have been free to say Merry Christmas and have said it to countless people countless times. No one reported me, harassed me, or brought charges against me. I have been free to say Merry Christmas in church, in shopping malls, in my neighborhood, and everywhere I have wanted to say it. And, amazingly, clerks and cashiers in commercial settings have said it to me, sometimes saying it first and sometimes responding to my greeting. Neighbors have said it to me. Strangers have said it to me. I didn’t report them, harass them, or bring charges against them.

At something called the Value Voters Summit in Washington, D. C., of all places (the very swamp that is not being drained by the Trump administration, but filled to flood stage), Donald J. Trump, now as President of the United States, on October 13 remembered that promise and assured the faithful gathered there to show off their values that we would all be able to say Merry Christmas this year. None of that happy holidays drivel for this country. After all, we really know, whatever the constitution does or does not say, that we are a Christian nation, or a Judeo-Christian nation, whatever that is. The values-voting crowd cheered the thrice-married values president. They love this man who boasts of groping women’s genitals, of kissing women he doesn’t know without even asking them, and of his serial adulteries while married. They adore this man who belittles anyone he chooses to, who campaigned by insults and bullying, and now governs by insults and bullying.

In full disclosure, I am a follower of Jesus, a Christian. At least I seek to be, however imperfectly. I am, further, a retired pastor and an adjunct professor at a Christian theological seminary in the evangelical tradition. Hence, it pains me to read and hear that something like 80% of white evangelicals voted for a person who seems to have no understanding of this nation’s historic commitment to have no state sanctioned religion; to have no understanding of the haven this land has been for oppressed minorities, people of Christian faith, people of other faiths, and people of no faith.

When December comes, I will continue to be free to say merry Christmas, or better, a joyous Christmas, to friends and neighbors that I know to be followers of Jesus. To other friends and neighbors I will likely say happy holidays or, horrors, season’s greetings (which has always struck me as appropriate every day of the year since everyday is part of some season). To Jewish friends and neighbors I will say happy Hanukah. I will offer all these greetings with sincerity and without reservation. If someone reports me, harasses me, or brings charges against me, so be it. I will not be silenced.

And to Mr. Trump I will say, “bah, humbug!”