Sermon Proper 28, Year A, Matthew 25:14-30, 19 November 2017

            Who is the hero in today’s parable? There are three slaves, each given some money by their master. They are told to safeguard the money while the master goes on a journey. We’re not told where the master goes, or how long he is gone. While he is gone, each slave takes the master’s money and does something with it. The first, given five talents, traded with the five talents and doubled the talents. Clearly he did well. Is he the hero?

The second slave, given two talents, also doubled his money, although we aren’t told how. Clearly he did well also, even though he had less with which to work, his net result was proportionately the same. Is he the hero?

Then we have our third slave. He was given one talent. He buried it. When his master returned, he dug it up and gave it back to him. Clearly he kept it safe. But then he didn’t manage to increase that with which he was trusted. Is he the hero?

What about the master? He gave the slaves money based on what he perceived as their abilities. In this parable we aren’t told the master gave any instructions to the slaves. He simply entrusted his property to them. Then when the master returns he praises the two slaves who have doubled what they were entrusted with. The master berates the slave who buried what he was entrusted with. Is the master the hero?

         You probably know the parable the way I did. It’s supposed to be a commentary from Jesus that calls us to use whatever our gifts are, our talents, for the sake of God. Some people interpret “talent” as meaning money, and others interpret “talent” as the way we use the word now. The word translated as “talent” in scripture, is neither a unit of money nor, does it mean the gifts or abilities that come naturally to us; those things God gave us when we were created. Just to confuse you a little more, a “talent” was actually a unit of measure, and a large one, used to weigh down a scale on one side, as the goods, gold, silver, or whatever else, was put in on the opposite side.

         Suppose I add to this confusing mix that the real hero in this story is the slave who buried the money? At this point, you may be thinking, if the slave who buried the talent is the hero that goes against everything we know about God, about Jesus, and about ourselves.

Does it really? I Perhaps we find this parable so hard to deal with, so impossibly difficult, because what we’ve been taught about the parable goes against all we read and hear from Jesus about God. If the slave who buried his master’s money was thrown into outer darkness, where is God’s mercy? Where is God’s saving grace? Where is God’s love?

         The mistake we make is thinking the master in the story represents God. Examine the other parables Jesus tells in scripture. Look closely at how often Jesus turns upside down the status quo, the prevailing mindset of his listeners. The master in this story simply does not act like the God of Jesus.

         First of all, remember that despite what the word “talent” has come to mean, it was a unit of weight in Jesus’ time. A unit of weight so large that one “talent” – made of silver or something else precious – was enough for a day laborer to live on for fifteen years! The three slaves were given enormous wealth. They were entrusted with money: money that can make a difference for good or ill.

         Secondly, the master asks for a kind of grasping, moneymaking behavior that would be repellant to a good Jew in Jesus’ time. The kind of profiteering one would have to do to double the master’s money would be seen as rapacious and greedy rather than as virtuous behavior or even good business practice.

         Finally, the master condemns the third slave who buried his money. Yet the third slave was refusing to engage in a practice condemned by the Torah, the Hebrew Scriptures. The third slave refused to engage in “usury” or money lending. Instead, the third slave opted out of the corrupt system. The third slave refused to engage himself in a corrupt system: the master’s system of entrusting his slaves to do his dirty work of investing and doubling his money. What they master wanted his slaves to do, on his behalf, was to bring about the opposite of the kingdom of God.

Insert stockbroker scandals and home loan scandals here, please. Because to double the money given to the slave would have required corrupt business dealings that would hurt the poorest of the poor. What the other two slaves did brought about the very behavior Jesus talks about at the end of today’s parable. “For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance, but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.”[1]

Is that God’s kingdom? Is that what Jesus talks about elsewhere in scripture? Is that the picture we really have deep in our hearts of how God’s reign will operate? What about the poor and lowly being lifted up? What about the meek inheriting the earth? What about the hungry being fed? What about the naked being clothed? What about doing justice and mercy and walking humbly before God?

If you doubt this, look ahead in Matthew’s gospel to the next parable in Chapter 25, and you will see Jesus talk about judgment. In that section it is those who clothe the naked, feed the hungry, and help the poor and destitute, who enter the kingdom of heaven. There is no mention of those who helped the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. In fact, those people are referred to as “the righteous” and denied entrance because they failed to offer even a cup of cold water to those who thirsted. AMEN.

The Rev Nicolette Papanek

©2017       

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[1] Matthew 25:29 (NRSV)

Sermon Proper 27, Year A, Matthew 25:1-13, 12 November 2017

         Are you a wise bridesmaid or a foolish one? Are you always prepared or seldom prepared? This morning’s Gospel reading might be telling us that even if we aren’t prepared in what we call “real life,” we still tend to think of ourselves as being prepared for God. But are we? And is being wise always enough?

         Consider the wise bridesmaids in this morning’s story for a moment. They brought plenty of oil, didn’t they? There they were, waiting. But did you catch that all the bridesmaids fell asleep, not just the foolish ones? I wonder what that says about our ability to wait. I wonder if instead of focusing on preparation, we might look at staying awake and alert and present.

         Most of us get impatient when we wait. In fact, some of us even use excuses about our impatience. “I like things to happen fast. I like things to get done. I don’t like to waste time.” These are some of the things we say about waiting. And we complain about waiting: waiting in the doctor’s office, waiting in line, waiting for service in a restaurant, waiting for results from a test, waiting for someone else to do something for us. We live in an eager and instant gratification society. Some of us even get impatient with God. Why doesn’t God get on with it? Why don’t we have a new Rector yet? Why don’t more people get involved? Why don’t people do what they used to do here?

         Yet we forget that time does not belong to us. Time belongs to God. Psalm 90, addressed to God tells us about God, “For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past, or like a watch in the night.”[1] We do not get to choose when the bridegroom returns. We get to choose how we wait.

         So what does it mean to stay awake to the presence of God? What does it mean to be aware each moment for the coming of Christ, the bridegroom? What does it mean to be present, to be available to Christ for when he calls us not just in this moment, but in future moments? And, what does it mean to be so preoccupied and distracted by other things that when we turn back to begin waiting again, the door is already shut?

         Matthew’s scripture this morning begins to point us in the direction of Advent, of waiting and anticipation for Christ among us. We spend most of Advent in waiting, waiting for the Christ to come among us again at Christmastide. But what if Christ Jesus, the Messiah, is already among us, waiting to be noticed and recognized and served? What if in our impatience with waiting we get complacent, or fall asleep, or stop waiting?

         How are you about waiting? Are you wise or foolish about waiting? Do you come prepared to wait, to sit patiently, or do you squirm impatiently? Do you come prepared to see and hear and know something new, or are we so caught up in our impatience we miss the things happening around us?

Do we keep our eyes and ears and minds and hearts wide open to what might be delightful and joyful, tender and true? Or do we shut our eyes and ears and mind and heart to anything new because we like the old so much?

         Perhaps Jesus calls us to be neither wise nor foolish but awake and alert. Perhaps Jesus calls us to wait alertly and wide-awake, with our eyes and ears and minds and hearts open to seeing Jesus among us. To see Jesus waiting to be noticed and recognized and served. Perhaps Jesus calls us to keep our eyes and ears and minds and hearts open to what is delightful and joyful, tender and true. AMEN. 

The Rev Nicolette Papanek

©2017

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[1] Psalm 90:4 (NRSV)

Sermon Proper 24, Year A, Matthew 22:15-22, 22 October 2017

“Just put a cross on it. It’ll sell.” Thus speak the marketing departments of any number of religious supply houses and Christian gift stores. Put a cross on it. It has a bit of a “snake oil” sound to it, doesn’t it?

But to Christians, at least those to whom their faith is more than a “Sunday faith,” putting a cross on something doesn’t make it easy. In fact, it might make it more difficult because we’d have to think about what it means each time we saw that cross. We’d have to think who Jesus is, what Jesus means to us, and how we live.

This morning’s Gospel is an uncomfortable reminder that it’s not always easy to find Jesus’ message is in our tax-paying, multi-allegiance world. What is pretty clear in today’s Gospel, however, is life for a believer cannot be cleanly and equally divided: this part for taxes; this part for God; this part for Caesar, this part for God. It gets increasingly difficult to compartmentalize ourselves into one part: the secular, every-day, tax-paying part. The other part: the church going, pie-in-the-sky, heaven-looking “Jesusy” part.

In these two groups in Matthew’s gospel who want to trap Jesus, it works something like this. First, they try to flatter him. Here’s the snake oil “Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and teach the way of God in accordance with the truth…” They use the phrase, “in accordance with truth.” “In accordance with truth” meant as found in the Torah, the first five books of the Hebrew Scriptures. Further, the Pharisees and Herodians ask, “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?” The phrase, “Is it lawful?” is another way of saying, “Does Torah permit this?” And having buttered up Jesus, they ask their questions, and then move in for the sell, oops, I mean the kill.

I picture everyone crowded around, rubbing their hands and thinking, “Let’s see him get out of this one!” Some people were probably thinking, “If he says pay the emperor, people will be mad at him for telling them to pay the taxes that oppress us.” Other people were probably thinking, “If he says don’t pay the emperor, he’ll be arrested for sure.”

Jesus says, “Show me the coin used for the tax.” That might seem like a little thing to us, but to people in Jesus’ time, it was a big deal. Here is Jesus, in the temple, asking for a coin. And what do they bring him? In hardly any time, they bring him a Roman coin

What’s wrong with this picture? Exodus 20 and Deuteronomy 4, where we find the Ten Commandments prohibit graven images and idols. And, God also says, “You shall have no other Gods before me.” Yet here in the temple itself, the holy place, Commandments 1 and 2 get broken in one quick sweep.

How? It’s obviously no problem to get a coin with a graven image, an idol on it. The Pharisees and Herodians violate the Torah by producing a coin with a graven image in a holy place.

Having been handed the coin, Jesus then asks the questions – to which they all know the answers. “Whose head is this? Whose title is this?” The answer, in both cases, is the emperor. And, worse yet, the coin also has engraved on it words that give both Caesar’s name and title him a god.

Remember: “You shall have no other Gods before me,” and "You shall not make for yourself any idol.” These are the first two of the Ten Commandments.

What happens next is startling because instead of becoming trapped in the question, Jesus points beyond the question to God. Jesus points beyond the emperor’s rule to God’s rule.

Jesus demonstrates with his words and action that we are whole beings, not separated ones. We are the same being whether we use a coin to pay taxes or we toss it in the offering plate. We need to ask ourselves whichever action we take: What idols are we making? What other gods do we have before God?

So I wonder what would happen if we did “put a cross on it.” If we forgot the snake oil and took this seriously. Remember how easy it was for the people in the temple to find that coin with the emperor’s face on it? Think for a moment how easy it is for most of us to find money for the things we want, but not so easy to find money for the things God might have in mind. So let’s “put a cross on it.”

I invite us all to “put a cross on it.” To try this because it may help us to remember we shall not make idols and there is one God to whom we belong. When you get home today, take out your favorite credit or debit card, the one you use the most, and mark it with a cross. “Put a cross on it.” Or, if you write checks, put a cross on your checkbook.  

I believe you may find, as have I, each time we use that card or write a check, we will think about what we do with what God has given us. It will provide new insights into the idols we make of things other than God. It will provide us with new insights into the one God to whom we belong and from whom all blessings flow. AMEN.

The Rev Nicolette Papanek

©2017

Sermon Proper 23, Year A, Matthew 22:1-14, 15 October 2017

I know this might be a stretch for some of you, but can you imagine God for just a few moments as a Grandmaw God? A Grandmaw God,[1] settin’ th’ table for grown children invited home for dinner? (I put on a bibbed apron. The long kind with ties at the back.) An’ whoever those grown children are, they keep makin’ excuses about why they cain’t come to dinner.

(While I did this, I kept setting the table and sighed each time I finish telling an excuse why someone couldn’t come.)

·      I’m sorry, Grandmaw, but this great new restaurant jus’ opened and all my friends are goin’ there.

·      Oh Grandmaw, I just signed up for a really interestin’ lecture series.

·      Grandmaw I’d love to come but there’s a new band in town.

·      Oh Grandma, I’m too far away to come see you today. I’m at a friend’s house.

·      Grandmaw, I forgot you invited us and we have a neighborhood potluck today.

·      Oh gee, how ‘bout next week Grandma, ‘cause I went shoppin’ all day yesterday and I’m sooo tired?

·      Gosh Grandmaw, I was goin’ to come, but then a friend won some tickets to th’ OU game, and well…

·      Oh, Grandma, I know you even gave me a new dress – but I have to take it back ‘cause it’s, well, you know it fits, but like it’s not really my style.

And so perhaps Grandmaw just gits tired too. Tired of excuses, tired of waitin’, tired of cookin’ and invitin’ and tryin’. Maybe Grandma decides that even though she has a whole family ablum filled with her chillren’s names and cell numbers and emails, maybe she should look for somebody who never quite made it into the family ablum. So Grandma sends her angels to go out in the highways and byways and find some people who really do want to come to dinner at Grandma’s house.

        (As I put the place cards on the altar, I read each story and smiled.)

·      I invited James. You know James? He’s a vet’ran an’ a addict. He’s had a really hard time lately. He kin use a good meal. He’s comin’.

·      And then there’s Sara Mae. Sara Mae an’ her three kids. She never got any love growin’ up, jes abuse. So havin’ kids was th’ on’y way she knew to git love. She and the kids are comin’.

·      There’s Abner. Abner come to Grandma’s table for the first time a long time ago. When he did, somebody said a nasty thing ‘bout his earrin’ an’ his tats, and before he could see how mad and sad what th’ person said made Grandma, Abner left. He swore he’d never come back. Today he’s goin’ to try agin.

·      Oh golly! I ‘most forgot Jasper and Lucy. Their story’s kinda of long. Lucy and Jasper met when Lucy was volunteerin’ at a rehab center in, well, Grandma’s gittin’ old and she don’t remember what city it was. Jasper was in rehab and he an’ Lucy got to likin' each other. Lucy wouldn’t date him ‘cause she was afraid he couldn’t stay sober. He’d fallen off the wagon so many times he used to say there was a dent in the road waitin’ jes’ fer him. But Lucy thought she should try an’ he’p him, so she asked him to church. Jasper started to say no. But then he said, “You know what? When you’re lookin’ for somebody you’ve lost, you start with their last known address. Maybe I should try church. That’s’ th’ last known address place I foun’ God.” Jasper an’ Lucy been married seventeen years now. She made him wait three years before she’d say, “yes,” juuuust to make sure he could rilly stay sober.

·      

    An' Jessica and Mary and their kids are comin’ too. They finally got married a couple years ago when, you know, things got legal. They got seven - no, Grandmaw ‘mos’ lost count. I told you she was gittin’ old – they got eight kids. All those kids they adopted have special needs of one kind or ‘nother. Mary does too. She uses a wheelchair to git about. But Mary an’ Jessica know what it’s like to be a kid without parents an' no safe place to go. An’ they sure know what it’s like not to be welcome at a table. They’re comin’ too.

Well, Grandmaw’s not goin’ to bore you with the whole guest list. But Grandmaw does want you to know a few important things.

You might be wonderin’ about the end of Grandma’s story today. You know, the man who doesn’t have a robe to wear to the party. He gits thrown into outer darkness? Or as Grandma’s friend Gene Peterson says, “thrown inta hell”.

Well, did you know back in the time the party in Grandma’s story happened, the guys throwin’ feasts woulda sent out two invitations? ‘Course they mostly used messenger boys in them days. The first messenger boy told when the party was gonna happen. The second messenger boy was kinda like those e-minders Grandmaw gits now. Just so Grandmaw remembers she needs to show up on the right day at the right time. Which Grandma always does, even though some folks don’t think so.

And, in the time Grandma’s talkin’ about, the guy throwin’ the party useta send rich and bee-you-teeful clothin’ as a present for people to wear. See the party thrower wanted to make sure people would be comfy an’ all decked out when they showed up to party an’ not to feel outta place.

So this feller who come without his robe had shook his head “no” to th’ very firs’ present the party thrower wanted to give him: a gift of rich and bee-you-teeful clothin’. And when you say “no” to the party thrower’s rich an’ bee-you-teeful gift, Grandma thinks you most gen’rally are kind a like a grumpy ol’ toad in a wrinkly, crinkly skin. ‘Cause Grandmaw is hopin’ all along when somebody sez, “Hey, I got a gift fer you,” you realize how much th’ gift means and how much it means to the guy what’s givin’ it. So th’ on’y person does the throwin’ inta hell ain’t the guy who threw the party, it’s you! You done throwed yerself in by bein’ a ungrateful toad. An’ Grandmaw bets you’d wail and gnash your teeth too once you realize just how tremenjus that gift really is… jes like the guy in the story prob’ly gnashed his teeth and wailed once he realized. (Pause)

Now I see you’uns looking at Grandmaw’s table and you might be thinkin’ the table ain’t big enuff. But you know what? When you gits to Grandmaw’s table you’ll find out there’s always room for more. There’s somethin’ very special about Grandmaw’s table. The way we see Grandmaw’s table we might think it’s pretty small. But Grandmaw makes room for ever’body who wants to come.

Now some don’t like that, but Grandmaw says, “Give ‘em time. They’ll quit elbowin’ folks out and invite ‘em in.” Cause at Grandmaw’s table everyone can come. Shoot, it even says that in the words Grandmaw’s folks say about her Son before the party starts. Grandmaw says her Son gave himself as food for all. Grandmaw’s pretty sure “all” means ever’body.

Oh yeah, Grandmaw almost forgot one last thing. I told ya she’s gittin’ a li’l absent-mindedy in her old age. Now Grandmaw has a pretty good idea of how all judgmental-like we can git about each another, so she’s changed all the names and some of the details about the people she’s talked about today. Kinda like they say on them cop shows on the tee-vee, the names been changed to pertec’ th’ guilty an’ th’ innercent. But they’s all real people. Nobody’s from this place though. An’, if you happen to suspicion you see some of th’ folks at Grandmaw’s table somewhere else, well, you prob’ly won’t recognize ‘em. And that’s jes what Grandma wants. She jes wants you to say “Hi” and sit right down at her table with ‘em. An’ Grandmaw wants you to know, if you see somebody lingerin’ like they ain’t sure they’s welcome, invite ‘em to th’ party and tell ‘em there’s a party outfit jes waitin’ for ‘em. AMEN.

(I left all the large place cards, big enough to see from the congregation, and the place settings and glasses also remained on the altar during Holy Eucharist.)  

The Rev Nicolette Papanek

©2017

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[1] No offense was intended to country folks and their wonderful drawls and accents. I used the voice of a “jen-you-wine” grandmaw from Kentucky.