Stewarding Our Gifts: A Sermon for Proper 28

One way that I usually begin my sermon preparation is to go back and read sermons I have written for the particular passage in the past. For one thing, it is very interesting to see what I wrote three or six years ago. My response is usually somewhere between “That sermon was actually pretty good” to “Wait a minute…I preached that sermon?” 

This week, my search came up empty. I’ve never preached on the Parable of Talents, but can you blame me? Every church I have served has been primarily made up of folks for whom our country’s socio-economic system has worked well. In places I’ve served, most of my parishioners don’t need reminding that wise investments can be rewarding and typically generate more money with which one can make more wise investments. 

If anything, I believe that we – and I put myself at the top of the list - need to be continually reminded of our Christian duty to care for those who have less resources than we do, for whatever reason. And I believe that we should err on the side of not blaming those who are less fortunate than we are for their struggles, just as we shouldn’t congratulate ourselves for our own success. The easiest way for us to hoard our resources is to believe that we got what we deserved, and others get what they deserved. When we get into those sorts of scenarios, we essentially become functional atheists, because we eliminate God’s grace, mercy, and providence from the conversation. 

On the surface, the Parable of Talents seems to encourage this sort of atheistic self-sufficiency, and that is likely why I have always avoided preaching on it. But an article by Min-ah Cho[1] in Sojourners’ magazine helped me think about this passage in a new way. She points out that “if we read the text in relation to the overall theme of Matthew’s gospel, the parable shows us something consistent with the rest of Jesus’ teaching. What the third servant lacks is reflective thinking. He didn’t make an effort for joyful kingdom participation, because he didn’t trust the master as much as his own ability to be part of the master’s plan. Instead, he locked himself into a closet of mistrust and doubt, while complaining and grinding his teeth.” In other words, he had already cast himself into the “outer darkness” that Jesus was speaking of.

Of course, I have to be careful using this imagery, especially since the covid-19 numbers are rising at a frighteningly fast rate. Many people feel like being locked away in a closet these days is actually the wisest thing to do, and who can blame them? For the most vulnerable among us, self-quarantine may be the wisest investment for the future. 

Regardless of how we are personally choosing to deal with the covid-19 pandemic, one thing that applies to all of us is Paul’s message to the Church in Rome that “the gifts and calling of God are irrevocable.” When we are baptized, we are sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever. But with this holy gift comes responsibility and accountability, whether we are out and about or we stay home. 

In another Sojourners’ article, Robert Roth points out that in today’s section of Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians, Paul is appealing to their common interest in mutual accountability, using the image of the “breastplate of faith and love.” “Therefore,” he writes, “encourage one another and build up each other.” These words couldn’t be more appropriate for us today. In an era when it is common to witness the tearing down of one another, our Christian calling is to encourage and build up, not discourage and tear down. 

Roth goes on to assert that “at face value and out of context, the Parable of the Talents might read like a preamble to get-rich prosperity theology… In context, the talents represent any resources that might be expanded in the service of God’s providence and rule. We must own our own collective values, decisions, and stewardship. Like those slaves, we are entrusted with much of sacred value. And also like them, we are accountable.”

So, what does encouragement, mutual building up and accountability, and stewardship of the gifts we have been given look like in this very strange time in which we live? Can we, if we choose to remain mostly away from other people – and our church - still use our gifts that God has given us? Can we still remain accountable to God and our neighbor? My answer is a resounding “yes!”, and Christ the King Episcopal Church is living proof of that. One rightfully could say that 2020 might be the worst year of their lifetime. Churches all over the world can rightfully claim that 2020 has been a crippling year for their mission, ministries, and even their mere survival.

But whenever this pandemic ends – and hopefully the Pfizer vaccine will prove effective and accessible sooner rather than later – we at Christ the King can look back and take account of how we have stewarded the gifts we have been given. During this God-awful pandemic, our vestry has moved forward with two of the initiatives that were already in the works – the construction of a new building for our Parish Day School and the hiring of our first-ever full-time Director of Family Faith Formation. These two initiatives were initially made possible by generous financial gifts. But rather than burying these gifts in the ground and hunkering down until the pandemic passed, our vestry boldly chose to continue the momentum we already had and move forward with these initiatives. They chose to take a leap of faith, trusting that God’s providence and our faithful use of these gifts would prevail, as has been the case in years past here at CtK.

Deacon Ed Richards’ several-year tenure of serving our sister parishes in Panama City Beach ended a couple of weeks ago. Ed could have easily just retired, or at least perhaps taken a break until after the pandemic ended. He certainly has earned a break! But when Bishop Russell appointed Ed to our parish, Ed boldly and faithfully accepted to call – and he did so a week early! Ed chose not to bury the gifts of his call to diaconal ministry and he is modeling for us the faithful stewardship of the gifts with which God has blessed him. And because of this, incarcerated people in the Florida panhandle are still being ministered to by Ed and his prison ministry colleagues in a time when they need it most. With that bold, faithful approach to ministry, Ed will no doubt fit in well and inspire us here at Christ the King.

So, when folks who have been away for most of 2020 return to Christ the King sometime next year, they will be greeted by a beautiful new school building, a thriving new children’s and youth minister and program, and a Deacon helping us broaden our mission out into the world. To use Min ah-Cho’s words, the folks at Christ the King are “mak[ing] an effort for joyful kingdom participation,” and we are trust[ing] the master’s plan over our own. We have chosen not to lock [ourselves] into a closet of mistrust and doubt, while complaining and grinding our teeth.” While many of us have wisely chosen to stay home for our own health, as a whole, the mission and ministries of Christ the King have not only continued, they have expanded and thrived. And that is evidence of a parish who has been faithful stewards of the gifts with which God has blessed us. And that is evidence of a parish made up of people who choose to not be dominated by fear and anxiety. Or to use Mon ah-Cho’s words, we are operating under an ethic of “common interest in mutual accountability.” It is as if our mantra this year has been Christ’s words in today’s parable” “For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance.” 

In my preaching, teaching, and leadership, I tend to err on the side of challenging, nudging, and even prodding. Sometimes I perhaps am a little too relentless in that regard. But as we begin wrapping up a year that has been marked by an unexpected, unprecedented, horrific pandemic combined with the most divisive political climate in my lifetime, I can also say, surprisingly, that it is perhaps the most gratifying year that I have ever had as a priest in the Church. And that is in large part because of you – those of you here today and those of you who have been faithfully participating from afar. By God’s grace, the people of Christ the King have navigated this challenging year with grace, fortitude, forgiveness, hope, flexibility, and steadfast faith. You have learned to use Zoom. You have learned to appreciate worship on a computer screen even though it wouldn’t be your first choice. You have learned to hum along with a hymn through a mask when you long to sing. You have learned to pass the peace with a nod of the head instead of a handshake or hug. You have paid your pledge even if it has been a financially tough year. You have done countless things that embody Christ’s call for us to be good stewards of the gifts we have been given. You have stepped out in faith, hope, love, and charity. And for that I am grateful. And for that I am not only blessed and humbled – I am overjoyed to serve as your rector. Thank you for joining God in motivating and inspiring me to do the work I have been called to do at this place and at this time. This is truly an exciting time to be here at Christ the King. I truly believe that God will continue to bless us so that we may be a blessing to our community, our diocese, and to the world. And for that, I am grateful.

[1] Assistant Professor of theology and spirituality at St. Catherine University in St. Paul, MN.