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DonateNovember 13, 2005 |
See also: [2008] |
Zephaniah 1:7, 12-18
Psalm 90:1-8, 12
1 Thessalonians 5:1-11
Matthew 25:14-30
This penultimate Sunday of the church year continues the themes of preparedness and accountability as well as points toward the triumphant judgment and sovereignty of God. In an apocalyptic crescendo that sounds its final flourish in next week’s celebration of the ultimate victory of God’s reign, today’s lection offers both the hope of redemption and the terror of condemnation. Good News flows as an undercurrent in the rushing tide of judgment. Here the texts invite the preacher to take a process perspective and bring to the sermon a novel and yet faithful interpretation of scripture.
Zephaniah 1:7, 12-18
The imagery in Zephaniah’s prophecy is chilling and downright creepy. God is depicted as the High Priest who will sacrifice (slaughter) the not-so-innocent lambs of the chosen flock, those who just happen to be the hearers of this oracle. Worse yet, the “consecrated guests” (v. 7) invited to the rite are not the usual rich and influential members of the Temple--indeed, they are the very enemy invaders from whom the Judeans assumed immunity. In damning detail, Zephaniah describes the gloom and doom about to descend on Jerusalem’s wealthy and privileged (and apathetic and complacent) inhabitants.
Having heard these words read in the worship service, no doubt the congregation will wonder how the preacher can weave Zephaniah’s words into the fabric of their own lives. (Reading this text at a time of year when most churches are running stewardship drives might scare the parishioners into increasing their pledges, but the preacher can find more creative interpretations.) A good place to start is with the contrasting images of God found in the text.
The central complaint against those who have provoked the day of wrath is one of apathy and passivity: they “rest complacently,” insulated by their wealth and anesthetized by indifference. To them, God is inconsequential. They say that “The Lord will not do good, nor . . . harm.” (v. 12b) They have nothing to do with God, and they believe that God has nothing to do with them. Such persons have done more than close themselves off from God’s influence; they have opened the door to their own increasing diminution.
The prophet uses words of action and power to depict a contrasting image of God. Rather than showing a God who “couldn’t care less” about creation, Zephaniah portrays a God who cares greatly and who wants to be actively and intimately involved with each individual. In the oracle God declares, “I will search Jerusalem with lamps,” looking into every nook and cranny of the human soul.
Most adults have discovered in their spiritual journeys that it is sometimes easier to shut down than to open up. The preacher will be speaking to some who have already replaced enthusiasm with ennui, much like those in Zephaniah’s purview. A sermon might examine what happens to us when we choose comfort over passion and eschew imagination in favor of predictability. What price do we pay when we protect ourselves from God’s vibrancy? If we have drawn God in neutral tones, how does that theology affect our lives?
Psalm 90:1-8, 12
Today’s psalm is the only one in the psalter attributed to Moses. Since the psalm itself was written in the post-exilic period, the preacher may want to consider what purpose the attribution serves. Is it merely an appeal to the authority of Moses, or is it a reference to Moses’ own spiritual evolution? Does anything move through the present text that mirrors the bondage, wilderness, and deliverance of the Israelites? Perhaps a clue can be found in how this psalm is used today.
This psalm is often used in funeral services, but without the strong flavor of personal lament one would find in Psalm 130 (De profundis), another funeral favorite. Psalm 90 begins with an acknowledgment of God's eternal nature that resides outside the limits of time ("from everlasting to everlasting you are God," v. 2c). The psalmist then contrasts this eternal nature of the divine with the ephemeral nature of creation, specifically humankind ("You turn us back to dust," v. 3). In the edited version used at funerals (vv 1-12) and in the lectionary version (vv 1-8, 12) the psalm ends in verse 12 with a recognition of God's redemptive power: "teach us to count our days that we may gain a wise heart.” Our fleeting lives are not futile; because God is everlasting, our allotted time becomes something consequential and enduring. Everything that perishes resides in the eternal nature of God.
The psalm moves from despair to hope, a point which is even more evident when one reads the entire psalm (vv 13-17 is a prayer for deliverance). Such a psalm would give comfort to the bereaved. But it is more than that; it is an affirmation of faith that culminates in a declaration of the joint enterprise of co-creation. "Let your work be manifest" (v 16) and "prosper for us the work of our hands" (v 17b) points toward a creative process that involves both divine and human agency. Not only do we create lives of meaning and consequence when we are engaged with the creative powers of God, but we also effect a future beyond our own finitude.
1 Thessalonians 5:1-11
The last section of Paul’s letter to the people of Thessalonica to be included in the lectionary is the second half of a larger subunit focusing on end times (4:13-5:11). It is rife with apocalyptic language, but it seeks to console and encourage the believers by telling them that they are already prepared for Christ’s second coming. In this section Paul speaks of the behavior expected of believers and contrasts their behavior with that of the unbelievers.
Much of the content of this selection repeats last week's reading, but with a slight shift in perspective. Whereas the earlier section focused on what to expect at the parousia, today's text deals with what to do in the meantime. Saying that the unbelievers are unprepared and that to them the parousia will come "like a thief in the night" (v 2), Paul assures the believers that no such fate will befall them. He equates the unbelievers with night and darkness and says that the believers are "all children of the light and children of the day" (v 5) to whom the parousia will not be a "surprise . . . like a thief" (v 4).
In drawing a distinction between believers and unbelievers, Paul uses several sets of contrasting images: light/dark, day/night, keep awake/fall asleep, sober/drunk. Nevertheless, Paul stresses that the differences between the two groups are more than those of awareness or alertness; there are differences of perspective as well. The believers can envision a future under the cosmic rule of Christ, and they model their present lives on that eventuality. They choose to "clothe themselves with Christ" and live a life of faith, love, and hope in the present, despite the contrasting points of view around them.
The preacher who brings this text into the sermon might discuss how hopes for the future shape our decisions in the present which, in turn, determine the evolution of that future. How does being open to unlimited possibilities in the present moment influence the next moment, and the next, and the next? In what way do we participate in creating the Kingdom of God?
Matthew 25:14-30
The parable of the talents comes at a time when many churches are in the throes of the annual financial stewardship campaign. This is more unfortunate than fortuitous. The preacher who uses today's gospel as a straightforward lesson in financial responsibility runs the risk of constricting the meaning of stewardship and missing the richer theological implications of this parable.
Most of the adults in the congregation have heard the reading many times before. The preacher is challenged to present the parable in such a way that overcomes the listeners' familiarity and confronts them with the shock of the unexpected message. Even referring to the reading as The Parable of the Talents misdirects the emphasis; perhaps an alternative title such as The Parable of the Timorous Servant would serve better.
Retelling the parable is a good way to present a fresh perspective. Since the core of the story deals with the third servant and what happens to him, telling the story from his perspective may uncover novel interpretations. Assuming that the parable is not about banking practices, what, then, did the third servant get wrong? Why was he called "wicked" instead of just "scared" or "inept" or "unimaginative"? What earned him condemnation into "the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth"? (v. 30)
Although the other two servants were entrusted with more talents, what the third servant received was also extremely valuable. (A talent equaled fifteen years' wages – multiply your annual income by 15 to get a sense of the amount.) Accordingly, it will be easy for the preacher to dispense with any thoughts that this guy was entrusted with only a little. The relative worth of each servant's account is not significant to interpreting the text. What the three have in common is that each man was entrusted with something of great value.
There is little distinction between the first two servants. Both double the value of the talents they received, and both evoke the same response from their master. Within the parable they provide high contrast to the third servant's behavior and the reasoning behind it. Here is a good place to examine the way in which the third servant differs in his perception of the master.
To some listeners, the third servant's choices will seem prudent or at least within the bounds of "playing it safe," especially if they accept his assessment of the master as "harsh.” Nothing in the parable warrants the third servant's paralyzing fear, however, and, in fact, it offers evidence that the master was both trusting and generous. The servant's failure to act cannot be attributed to any actual experience of the master. The third servant's wickedness was more than sloth or anxiety or indolence. His was the denial of any possibility of growth or development. Rather than expanding the treasure, he actually diminished it.
The preacher might ask the congregation to put themselves into the parable. With what spiritual wealth has God entrusted us? What does God trust us to do as a church? If we are not talking about money or abilities (and we aren't), what do we hold in trust for God that is so precious? It is hoped that some will answer, "the love of God," or "the word of the Lord," or "the Good News of God through Christ.” At the very least, it is our identity as Christians, our faith in the Living God.
What happens when we put our Christianity in a hole to keep it "safe"? If we allow no changes in our faith (some call this orthodoxy) and keep it to ourselves, how are we any different than the third servant? What fears keep us from risking our faith in the "marketplace"? What exactly is jeopardized when we expose ourselves to new ideas, live our faith in the pluralism of American society, or entertain challenges to our closely held beliefs? The parable points us in the direction of taking those risks and of garnering the rewards.
The
Rev. Gretchen Weller is the rector of St. Bartholomew Church, Mayfield
Village, Ohio. She may be reached at: rector@saintbartohio.com
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