28 - Chapter 28
CHAPTER XXVIII THE TALENTS AND THE POUNDS Mat 25:14-30Luk 19:12-27. THE citizen of the Kingdom, then, carefully distinguishes between himself and his possessions; even his possessions are by no means his absolute property; when occasion calls they are to be placed freely at the disposal of those who need them. In the Talents Jesus becomes more inward still; not only our external and material possessions but even our internal wealth, our wealth that is part of us, is given to us only in trust; we are not owners but stewards; as Paul would say (1Co 12:1-31) it is to be thrown into the common stock for the common good.
We ask first what experience or what train of thought led Jesus to this parable. He must have been impressed with the amount of talent, some of it of a high order, that in his own country and his own age was lying unused. Had they never come into contact with Jesus, the men in the innermost circle of the disciples to the end of their lives would have seemed to themselves as to others commonplace fishermen, taxgathers, tradesmen or minor politicians. Yet they had within them, only wanting the magic touch to stimulate it into rapid growth, the germ of eloquence, of invincible courage, of organizing ability, of spiritual insight and power and capacity for sacrifice. Such people were not to blame for their failure to cultivate their talents; neither themselves nor their neighbours knew that they possessed them. In other cases failure to use talents was due to physical disability or social prejudice. Bartimaeus had more insight than most men of his time; and had a gift of persistence, of refusal to be put down by the crowd, that would have carried him far in a worthy cause; only, beggars have no influence. The woman of the city (Luk 7:1-50) had a depth of moral earnestness, a capacity for the fearless expression of grateful love, that might have inspired many others to a fervour of devotion; but, except in a rare society such as the Greece of Pericles, people do not look to such women for guidance.
There were others, and doubtless it was of them chiefly that Jesus was thinking, whose talents lay unused because they did not choose to cultivate them. We feel an almost personal grief as we read the refusal of the rich ruler and consider what an acquisition he would have been to the disciple circle had he chosen to dedicate his talents to the cause of Jesus. In every crowd that Jesus addressed, in every little group with which he had an interview, he must have met men and women with gifts that were meant to be used to enrich the life around them, but who were restrained from using them by prejudice or greed or fear. In this parable Jesus taught it is the teaching also of biology and psychology that used powers grow and develop; unused powers wither and perish. In parable after parable Jesus sought to make men realize that growth, expansion, is the law of the Kingdom. In the Sower, the Darnel, the Mustard Seed, the Leaven, the Unfruitful Fig-tree, he taught that the essence of the Kingdom is life, a life that spreads and dominates and subdues one region after another of men and ideals and institutions. Yet to a large number of professing Christians, this is an uncomfortable doctrine in which they do not believe and which they resent. Having reached a certain moral and spiritual level, probably in early youth, they have no ambition to go beyond this. Aids to the deepening of spiritual life, forward movements, revivals, are to them anathema. If they are tolerable at all, they are only for Church officials and religious professionals, the five and the two talent men of the spiritual world. As they conceive it, these things have no relation to the average Church member whose business it is to keep on the wellbeaten track. The spread of the Christian religion to people of other races is the particular aversion of this type of Christian. Geographically also, to keep what we have, not to reach out for more, is the true Christian wisdom. The Christian religion has more or less found its home among the white races; why should we take the risk of spreading it beyond them, when we could keep it safe in a hole in the ground in our own country? The Palestine of Jesus’ day must have had its share of people who thought that piety consisted in just going on as they were, who had never discovered that we cannot remain kind people unless we do kind things, that we cannot have or retain any of the virtues unless we practise them, and that every temptation resisted strengthens our resisting power. As Dr. Edward Caird put it: “ In the moral world standing still is going back.”
It is the incompetent and unenterprising men who are the grumblers, and it is characteristic that the very harsh picture of the master is drawn by the. one-talent man, a very different picture from that his colleagues would have drawn. But he had noted accurately one feature in his master’s character. When he entrusted treasure to his servants, he expected it to be profitably employed and returned to him with increase. To the more competent servants this gave a zest to the enterprise into which they entered joyfully and successfully. To the incapable servant, it was a grievance to be rebelled against. Yet it is one of the laws of life; in parable after parable Jesus emphasized that God expects fruit, and that, if the labourer does his work faithfully, God gives fruit and gives it abundantly. The excuse offered by the one-talent servant was his fear of losing his talent and of the consequences from such a severe taskmaster. In his reply the master roundly accuses him of laziness. We can well imagine that the lesson of the parable is one that Jesus not merely regarded as important, but, in the circumstances of the time, saw to be of paramount importance.
He was leaving the prosecution of his mission to a tiny band of disciples who would meet with bitter opposition even in the land where the Faith had its birth. On one condition only could the enterprise prosper: that those to whom it had been entrusted should fling aside every fear, forget every consideration save loyal service of the Master, and go forth in a spirit of utter faith, devotion and confidence, dedicating to the spreading of the Good News every power with which God had endowed them. The leaders could be trusted; but the leaders alone could never accomplish the work; the average men, the one-talent disciples, must also be pressed into the service, must learn the same spirit of dedication.
Jesus saw that one particular form of letting talents rust was just want of enterprise, leaving the work to others, cherishing the idea that because one has no outstanding gifts, one has little influence and is therefore not called on to take any risks. In the Treasure and the Pearl we saw how Jesus thought of the citizen of the Kingdom as taking part in a great adventure, flinging away, with a faith that he knows is justified, precious treasures with an abandon that to the world seems reckless. Except to the eye of faith, the mission of Jesus and his followers must have seemed a forlorn hope.
He was constantly calling men to defy the cautious usages, opinions and standards established by convention. Those who took the plunge never regretted it; they counted all things but loss if only they could win Christ and lead others to know him. The men who jealously guarded their talents on the ’ safety first ’ principle saw them shrivel before their eyes; those who spent them in the Master’s service found them grow and grow. In the apostolic Church the word ’ ’ talents ’ would come to have a more technical sense. From more than one passage in Paul’s epistles (e.g. 1Co 12:8-10) we know the endowments and qualities that came to be regarded as special gifts of the Spirit. It was the duty of the Christian to exercise the gift that was in him. By common consent the teaching of the parable for us covers a wide range. A talent was originally a sum of money. In its most literal sense the parable has an application. Our money is a trust from God; not only the pound of the rich man, but the penny of the poor man; not only the fraction that we devote to religion and charity, but all our money. But it is not in this sense that the word “ talent ’ has enriched our vocabulary as a new acquisition. When one has a special gift for art, for languages, for public speech, for organization, and we call such a person “talented,” we sometimes forget that, if we look to the origin of the word, we mean that he possesses capacities whose only appropriate function is to be used in the Master’s service. But we are not all talented in this sense, and surely the parable has its message for us all.
Frances Ridley Havergal’s consecration hymn breathes the very spirit of this parable. To use our hands in God’s service does not mean that they should be always uplifted in prayer; it means in the first place doing with our might and with our conscience the daily work we have undertaken to do, the work for which we are paid. Consecrating our feet means something more than that they should convey us to Church or to prayer meeting. It incites that they should sometimes lead us to the house of the needy or the mourner, and that they should bring us to no place to which we cannot ask God to go with us. The voice may often be uplifted in prayer or praise without being consecrated to God’s service. The consecrated voice will speak the words of truth and soberness, will avoid the untested scandal that poisons social relations, and will be more often heard in praise and encouragement than in unkindly criticism. The consecrated gift will grow from strength to strength; the task that was impossible yesterday is possible to-day and will be easy to-morrow. The Master asked from each servant only the fruit of the talents he had given that servant, not the fruit of the talents he had given his neighbour. The one-talent man was not blamed because he could not produce an additional five talents or even two. How often we sav: “ If only I had better health, a higher social position, a larger income, greater eloquence, a more thorough education, how much more I should accomplish for the community in which I live.” But the only talents for which we are responsible are the talents we have, and envy is not one of the Christian graces. It is not reading too much into this parable to believe that in some measure the foolish indolence of the one-talent man was due to resentment at the inferiority of his equipment as compared with his colleagues.
He was unenterprising because he was sulky. Our one-talent men have no cause to feel ashamed. As Paul teaches in I Cor. xii. every talent is an essential talent, even those that the world counts humble. If the preaching is altogether done by the man in the pulpit, it is not likely to carry very far. As has been said, ’ It is great hearing that makes great preaching.”
If we have not been given the talent of prophecy, at least the talent of attentive, sympathetic, responsive listening is within our reach and is well worthy of cultivation.
