Power

Matthew 25:14-30

I used to like this story a lot. When I was a kid, and good at school, feeling smart and successful at the thing that seemed to be most important to authority figures, it was easy to like this idea:

God gives us resources, we're supposed to do good work with those resources, then we get rewarded. Great!  And if we do nothing, well, then God gets mad. Makes sense.

Work hard; earn heaven.  I’m in!

But the more I read the gospel, the more that sounds a little fishy, and I don’t think that this is a story about how we earn our way into heaven. So this week I did a little research and a little math, and I want you to listen to the beginning of the story again:

Jesus said, "It's like when a CEO goes on an extended trip, and before he goes, he leaves some of his own money in his employees' hands.

To one, he gives something over three million dollars. To another, he gives about 1.2 million, and to a third, between six or seven hundred thousand* – and leaves it in their hands for a very long time.

Wait a minute! Who gives three million dollars to one individual, with no instructions, other than "I'll be back - eventually..."?  This is hardly pocket change! And how many people really double their money by hard work? Or even by trading and investing?  (Do you?)

This is not a Main Street story, it's a Wall Street story.

And that makes me think: On Wall Street – and in the places influenced by Wall Street – money is not just money. Money is power. And I think that’s as true in this story as in the nitty gritty world of our political, social and practical life.

So the two new millionaires in the story immediately start using their power.  They buy, sell, trade, influence, invest, and generally make the most of the power and authority that’s left in their hands.   For this, they are praised and rewarded.That’s the way it is on Wall Street, too.

But the third servant is baffled by what he receives. He’s never thought of himself as powerful, and even several hundred thousand dollars doesn’t change that.  He’s more aware of the master’s power, and he’s afraid that power corrupts.  So he buries it, ignores it, and can’t wait to wash his hands of it by turning it back over to the master.  He probably never wanted power; he didn’t recognize it when he had it – and that gets him tossed into outer darkness, a place of despair and bitterness.

I don’t particularly like this story any more, but it’s started to haunt me. It’s started to make me wonder about the power that’s in my hands, and what I do with it.

Honestly, I don’t feel powerful most of the time.  Do you? 

I watch avalanches of super-PAC funded campaign ads and what passes for the business of government in Congress, and even on the day I vote, I feel extremely powerless.

I pay for groceries and gas, write out the checks for my mortgage and ever-increasing condo fees, get stuck in traffic, feel the weeks go by faster and faster as I try to catch up…  and I growl and complain because I don’t believe I can change any of that.

I grieve the deaths of friends and family, pray for healing for so many people struggling with physical pain or emotional injury, and I’m full of hope, but also of helplessness.

All those things get my heart into the habit of helplessness, and they help me forget that the kingdom of God puts power into our hands, yours as well as mine, whether we want it or not.

And when we meet God once and for all,  God’s going to expect us to have used that power wisely and well.

That’s what Jesus’ story about talents tells us.

And it’s what Facebook tells me, often this fall.

You see, I have a lot of friends in St. Louis, and they don’t let me forget about Ferguson.

They don’t let me forget that after one of the hundreds of times in our lives that police officer shot a black teenager, a whole lot of ordinary people – clergy and mothers and small business owners and teenagers and teachers and bus drivers and police – are suddenly dealing with extraordinary power.

It’s extraordinary to be a suburban police officer, and suddenly be responsible for assault weapons and tanks.

It’s extraordinary to be a busy parish priest, pulled unexpectedly into the front of a march and a movement to pray and lead.

It’s extraordinary to be a teenager, reaching out to hold hands with a police officer, and bridge an unthinkable social gulf.

It’s extraordinary to be a mechanic, a waiter, a teacher, and discover that the power of riot and the power of reconciliation are in the palm of your hands and the words on your lips,

to discover that by that, you have the power to dramatically change the whole world.

Those are extraordinary discoveries. But God puts that kind of power into our hands, yours and mine, much more often and much sooner than we are usually ready for.

You and I have all kinds of power that we may accidentally bury, or genuinely fear, and God gives it to us to see how we’ll use it, day after day.

Loving, and being loved, by parents, children, spouses, friends, gives each of us incredible power to heal or hurt.

What we buy, how we do our jobs, and where we choose to live, even – maybe especially – how we spend our time; all these are ways we exercise power, especially power we don’t realize we have.

You and I have power, every single day, to name oppression where we see it, and to encourage others to break down barriers between races, faiths, class, and gender.

We each have power to forgive and to reconcile – often small hurts, but also systems of injustice and opposition.

We each have power to spread grace and joy and peace – with small smiles or large political action, our silence and our speech.

If all this feels a little scary, that’s good.  Power is a messy thing.

Nobody gets it all right in this parable –  not the frightened servant who buries his riches,

not the master who gets called out for his exploitation and shady business practices and doesn’t deny it, and not the successful temporary millionaires who no doubt copied some of those practices to double their master’s money and power. 

Nobody gets it all right, but the successful servants find that with great power comes increasingly great responsibility – that’s their reward.  And the damnation to outer darkness, the condemnation to despair and bitter yearning, is reserved for the only one who denied and buried his power.

You and I have been given the gospel. We’ve been given love and influence and time – in the millions or simply hundred thousands, and God is eager to see what we’ll do with it.

So what do you think God will find in us, when we meet God once and for all?

*These numbers are very approximate. They are based on commentators' assertions that a talent was either 15 or more wages for a laborer, and a $19.50 current hourly average US manufacturing wage (googled and found here).