Several weeks ago, while I was leading the adult Sunday School discussion in my church, a participant said a very interesting thing. We were in the midst of discussing Jesus' well-known "Parable of the Talents" found in Matthew's Gospel. Those of you familiar with this parable recall that three servants, each entrusted with money by their master who was leaving on adventures, did different things with what they were given. Two servants invested it without any prompts from their master; both doubled their wealth. The other servant, aware that his master reaped where he did not sow, took the one coin given him and buried it. In other words, the coin was not invested and he gained nothing.
The parable is powerful on a lot of levels. To me, everything hinges on the third servant's words:
'Master,' he said, 'I knew that you are a hard man, harvesting where you have not sown and gathering where you have not scattered seed. So I was afraid and went out and hid your talent in the ground. See, here is what belongs to you.'
Of course, the master -- who only moments before praised the first two servants for their fine work -- rebukes this hapless fellow, casting him out into the darkness. But note that the master does not -- in word -- disagree with the servant's description. The master says:
'You wicked, lazy servant! So you knew that I harvest where I have not sown and gather where I have not scattered seed? Well then, you should have put my money on deposit with the bankers, so that when I returned I would have received it back with interest.'
But let me back up. The parable begins with the notice that the master gave to his servants "each according to his ability." Fascinating. For this suggests that the master knew his servants well, that two were more capable than the third. Does this play into the parable, then? Should we expect the third servant to fail?
Perhaps. But, in part, he did not fail. He returned the one talent he was given; it was not lost. Afraid to lose either the talent or what he would have earned in the investment, the third servant literally proved competent in his trustworthiness, particularly since the parable mentions nothing about the master's wishes. The master merely entrusts his wealth to these men. And not one coin was lost.
But the third servant is not rebuked because he buried his coin. He is rebuked because he does not know his master; and he is not really telling the truth. Moreover, he is unwilling to lose what he might have earned.
"I knew you reaped where you did not sow," says the servant. Well, if that is true, then he would have done exactly what the other servants did -- he would have sowed for his master so that his master could reap what was not his to reap. After all, it was the servants who invested, not the master. But the third servant did not invest. Why? Was it because he did not want to lose what he would have gained, essentially saying to his master, "Master, you take what is not rightly yours?" Indeed, that seems to be the case. Hence the servant lies; he is really saying that he did not want to lose what would have been his wealth. So, fearful of losing everything, he buries the coin, intent on showing his master that things were safe and secure.
But what does the master show, not say, in his dealings with the third servant? He shows that he is NOT someone who sows where he does not reap; in fact, he is the opposite. For we see that he not only lets his first two servants keep their profits, he lets them keep their original coins! And, to show his generosity, he takes the one coin given to the third servant and gives it to the wealthiest of the three! In other words, the coins were always going to be the servants' -- but only on the condition that they truly understood who the master was and why the coins were given.†
Hence, to sum up: Those servants who took risks were rewarded, discovering that there was no risk at all; and he who refused to take a risk, lost everything. But, and here's the rub: the servant who lost everything did so because his failure to take a risk was the result of his misunderstanding the nature of the gift he was given and the giver who gave it to him.
OK. Forgive the Bible lesson. What I set out here to discuss was something someone said during class to what I essentially wrote above. This person said this: There is no risk at all in the Christian life. To which I said, "Really? Wow!"
What do you think? Is there no risk at all in following Christ? This week in Sunday School I led the discussion on the "Parable of the Good Samaritan." I was quick to note that the Samaritan took several profound risks helping a wounded man who was the victim of robbers who ambushed him on a treacherous road. Is the Samaritan representative of the Christian life? Is there much for which we can commend him if he did not face any risk at all? Where is Christian bravery and courage if there is no risk?
Or did my interlocutor mean something else, namely that there is no ultimate risk in the Christian life? But is this true? Does this not assume that we already know that everything we do will be approved by God, will be honored and praised and accepted?
Let me ask this as well: Is the Christian life worth living if it is filled with certainty? Is there any life worth living that is NOT an adventure? Does not risk give us our drive for excellence? Do we not need difficulties and obstacles to enrich our lives? Where would we be without risk? Would life not be the dullest thing without it?
I wonder.
Peace.
BG
†Admittedly, there is much more to say on all this. It seems likely, too, that the servants would've kept their gifts if they DID something -- anything -- with them. Imagine if the third servant reported to the master, "Master, I bought a needy family some food and clothes with what you had given." Would the master have rebuked him?
©Bill Gnade 2007/Contratimes. All Rights Reserved.
12 comments:
Bill,
You asked, "Is the Christian life worth living if it is filled with certainty?"
At risk of becoming the fly in the ointment, I venture to ask: what do you mean by Christian?
According to the World Christian Encyclopedia there are around 34000 distinct Christianitites the world over. They all get lumped under the same rubric "Christian" but in point of fact there is not even one point of doctrine in common among them all. There are of course theistic Christianities, but there are also atheistic Christianities - that's right, no God, no divine Jesus, no miracles. In some their God sends people to Hell; in others, their God doesn't send people to Hell. In the thousands of distinct Christianities, the variability of doctrine and practice truly makes me wonder if there is any legitimacy to speaking of "Christian" as if it were a uniform religion. That said, I question what it would mean to live a Christian life.
I'm not attacking just making an inquiry.
Russ
Dear Russ,
Greetings.
The diversity of which you speak regarding Christianity is interesting. To some, this indicates its dynamic ability to speak to countless cultures; to others, this indicates that it is too fractured to be meaningful. I've seen Christianity faulted for being "all things to all men;" I've seen it faulted for being one thing to all mindless men.
There is one very overstated "fact" in your comment. You wrote:
'There are around 34,000 distinct Christianitities [sic] the world over. They all get lumped under the same rubric "Christian" but in point of fact there is not even one point of doctrine in common among them.'
I can't imagine that there is any data in the WCE that support the claim that there is not one point of doctrine shared between the alleged 34,000 Christian groups.
If I just take any Catholic church in America and compare it to virtually any Protestant Evangelical church, I find agreement about 1) the Fall; 2) Abraham as the spiritual father of us all; 3) the Virgin Birth; 4) the Incarnation; 5) the Crucifixion and Resurrection; 6) the authority of Scripture; 7) the Trinity; and 8) the necessity of baptism, just to name a few. By and large most if not all who call themselves Christian do so because they are fixed around at least one common point: Jesus Christ.
That there is even a WCE indicates that someone knows there to be some commonality between the churches, or else there really would not be any need for a WCE since the word "Christian" would be rendered meaningless. Moreover, critics of all things Christian could not meaningfully use the word. It would be like using the word "apples" to denote smoke, lemons, and chicken wire. If there is indeed no meaningfully Christian commonality between all "Christian" expressions, then it would seem we would just call these things "expressions," or just plain "things." After all, smoke, lemons and chicken wire are at least unified by being things, but they are hardly "apples." Hence, the encyclopedia to which both of us are referring should be more accurately called the "World Things Encyclopedia."
When I use the word "Christian" here, I mean it as most orthodox Christians mean it: the Faith as adumbrated by the Holy Canon, the Church fathers, and the Creeds is essentially trustworthy, whole and unifying. I may part company with my more Protestant brothers and sisters on certain points, and I may part company with my more Catholic brothers and sisters on other points, but the disunity of Faith I find between believers is not as you say. The vast majority believe that Jesus is central, that He is the incarnation of God, that His life, death and resurrection are essential, and that He will return.
I don't know if any of this helps, but I am quite confident that your main point is based on some sort of mistake printed in the WCE. I attend an evangelical church on Sundays; tonight, I travel with several of my Catholic friends to meet with the bishop of this diocese. I know the points of departure between both groups, but the points of unity are profound, powerful and very real. This Sunday, millions of Catholics and Anglicans around the globe will hear the same Scriptures read from the same lectionary; and all (or almost all) of the Catholics will celebrate a Mass that is nearly if not exactly One and Identical.
Again, I don't know if this helps, but I hope it does.
As for my essay's question, I have no problem asking it this way: "Is any life worth living if it is filled with certainty, where all uncertainty is cast out?"
And, related to my more religious question, if there is a heaven, will it allow any risks? Would we want heaven if it didn't?
Peace to you,
Bill Gnade
Russ,
By the way, I like that you take risks, but there is no way you could be a fly in the ointment.
(Perhaps because there ain't no ointment here…)
Peace and mirth,
Gnade
I think it's fairly clear that there are risks to being a Christian. The nature of those risks depend upon where one is. If one becomes a Christian in the United States, at worst, one risks being ridiculed by others. In a Muslim country practicing Sharia, one risks a death sentence for apostasy.
As far as the value of life with or without risk, I think that opens up an interesting theological question. What if Adam had not sinned? Human life would be in God's presence without fear or want or risk of any kind. Would it still be worthwhile? Presumably, we Christians would answer in the affirmative.
Yet, given our present state, I still must answer "yes, risk is a good thing." I base this solely on observation of others who live without risk or who avoid it. They don't seem very happy to me.
Cheers.
Hello Bill,
Being a Christian was certainly a risky thing for Peter. Jesus told him (John 21) that when Peter was older, he'd be bound and taken to a place he did not want to go. For him, loving Christ meant following Jesus, feeding sheep, taking risks. It meant going where he did not want to go. That seems applicable to all who meditate on their call to follow the Messiah.
I think this is also the context of the parable you discussed in your Sunday class. The apostles were soon to receive a mission from the Messiah. Would they carry it out? It seems for us a given, but at the time, all were, perhaps, just a breath away from Judas-like behavior.
Keep on…
Bill,
Thanks for the response.
I'm truly perplexed here, so I'll ask for your help straight away in dissolving my wrongheadedness. Do all Christian sects comply with the Roman Catholic doctrine of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary? More to the point is there even one that does not? If there is even one that does not, then from my perspective, and by the lights of formal logic, there exists at least one Christian doctrine that is not common to each and every one of the world's tens of thousands of Christianities. Please let me know if I am mistaken in this regard.
May I also implore that you not simply dismiss this as pedantism, but apply your analytical and reasoning skills to it. To me the numerous Christianities are given definition by their doctrinal differences. If that is the case, the doctrinal differences exist, at least in part, to establish clear us/them dichotomies: We are not one of them; they are not one of us.
I think this point was made perfectly clear this July when the pope stated publicly that non-Catholics are bound for hell, and, of course, one need only listen to a few charismatic televangelists to find one who will reply in kind. Think of this: the pope told the world that non-Catholics are non-Christians. If Catholicism is the one and only hope for salvation, and Christianity is the one and only hope for salvation, Catholicism must be, at least through the eyes of the pope, the one and only Christianity.
Clearly, the pope does not view all things labeled "Christianity" as being equal or anything near uniform. The pope may well consider the biggest risk involved in living a 'Christian' life to be living life as a member of a non-Christianity that is only labeled as one.
I don't mean to muck up the comment thread for your post, here, Bill, but I think this idea of doctrinal differences which are claimed to have very real extremely long-term adverse consequences has relevance. Your post concerned the Christian life, or as you restated out of well-appreciated politeness and affability toward your 100 percent supernatural-free readers, "Is any life worth living if it is filled with certainty, where all uncertainty is cast out?" Gary Wills was on NPR's Talk of the Nation a few days ago, and he noted that American Catholics have a higher rate of abortion than any other US Christian sect. This tells me that religious doctrine does not determine, and is quite distinct from, the day to day practice of life, regardless of whether that life has been labeled as some variant of Christian. While Christian doctrine runs the gamut of human creativity - think Mormon Christians; think Jehovah's Witnesses Christians; think Christian Science Christians; think Westboro Baptist Church Christians; think atheist Christians - even that almost mind-boggling variability fades nearly to oblivion when compared to the daily life practices of those who identify themselves as a member of something under the Big Top tent labeled Christianity. As I see it, Bill, most people's lives seems quite unaffected by whatever religious allegiances or inclinations they might have.
Good thoughts,
Russ
Dear Russ,
Hello!
I would like to think, Russ, that we can get away with informal logic here, at least for the time being. I think if we get too formal, some of our guests might feel under-dressed. No doubt I like black-tie affairs, to a point; but for this event we can do just fine with our civvies.
I jest, of course, but I have to admit that I am somewhat confused. Forgive me. Your first post stated that there were
34000 distinct Christianitites [sic] the world over. They all get lumped under the same rubric "Christian" but in point of fact there is not even one point of doctrine in common among them all.
In my response to you, I focused on this assertion: "there is not even one point of doctrine in common among them all." If you are stating that the 34,000 do not hold a thing in common as a complete set, that might be true. But there are thousands in a subset that do; there are probably even tens of thousands which do.
Of course, the Assumption is entirely a Catholic teaching. Protestants, by and large, will not accept it. But there are hundreds of areas where Protestants and Catholics do agree; what sets them apart is not the things they share but the relatively few things they don't. So, if you are asking what I mean by "Christian" vis-รก-vis the differences between "Christianities," I would say I don't mean anything in this way. I am lumping "Christianities" together by what the major churches hold in common. And what they hold in common is both substantial and sufficient enough for us to properly use the word "Christian."
Does any of this make sense? Maybe you did not mean to imply that there are 34,000 "Christianities" out there with nothing in common. But that is what I took from your comment. I have tried to defend the idea -- without drafting a hasty comparative religion spreadsheet -- that there is enough in common between most mainstream churches to justify calling them "Christian;" these are churches wherein followers attempt to live the "Christian" life.
But if there is nothing "Christian" because there is no legitimate commonality between churches, or because the connotation of the word "Christian" is too vague and even empty, then I think we have to admit to intellectual nihilism. For we can say this about nearly everything, if not everything. There are enough differences between each lemon on this planet to ask ourselves whether the word "lemon" is effective: is a green lemon really a lemon; is a lemon that is not tart a true lemon; is a sliced lemon a true lemon; is a peeled and cooked lemon a lemon? We could go on and on here. No doubt each person is different from every other person to such a degree that we can conclude no commonality between peoples: one person's Christianity may be someone else's Buddhism or someone else's mania. Each person is his or her own moral director (or so it goes); no one is more expert about a person than that person him or herself: each person knows what he or she hears and feels and believes in such different ways, we can't really talk about what makes us fall under the term "human."
While this reductio ad absurdum might not properly speak to your point, I feel that it is nonetheless aiming at something true. I know that there are atheists who deny any divine presence in or out of the cosmos; but I am a theist who may have willfully chosen theism solely to spite a godless universe. Am I an atheist then, or a theist? Or have I just rendered the term "atheist" meaningless and unhelpful? If there is enough dissimilarity between atheists leaving us unable to accurately talk about "living as an atheist" (with at least any sort of confidence), then we are kind left with nothing. Egads, Russ, if I want, I can argue that there are so many manifestations of Bill Gnade -- Bill the father, son, husband, ex-boyfriend, skier, poet, photographer, skeptic, Christian, sinner, Protestant, Catholic, and blogger (just to name a few), that all folks could readily deny that there is any cohesion to my "identity." Bill Gnade, as a useful term, does not exist.
This is all a hasty reply to you.
Be well.
Bill Gnade
Regarding risk in the Christian life. We are secure in Christ ("no one shall snatch them from my hand") but no where else. There is no safety in myself, no safety in this world. Think of the metaphors used to describe the Christian life: here business investment, farming, very often warfare. All risky, even dangerous activities, where there are few or no guaranteed outcomes.
Now looking at our lives from the perspective of beyond our lives, when the master will have returned, yes, we see we have a "sure reward". Keeping that before our eyes we dare to take the risks a Christian life poses now. But keeping that vision before us is a big part of the risky battle we each face now.
I like this passage from G. K. Chesterton's "The Ballad of the White Horse". Mary has appeared in a vision to King Alfred, who is in despair. He has been beaten by the Danish invaders and asks her to tell him if he will win or lose his battles in the future. She answers:
But you and all the kind of Christ
Are ignorant and brave,
And you have wars you hardly win
And souls you hardly save.
I tell you naught for your comfort,
Yea, naught for your desire,
Save that the sky grows darker yet
And the sea rises higher.
We do win our wars, we do save our souls, but hardly, barely, with difficulty.
Amen!
(Welcome, Robert.)
Bill,
I certainly think there are risks in Christianity. It is contended in some Christian ministries that faith alone in Jesus alone leads to eternal life. This I believe is only partially correct, misleading, and not what Jesus himself was teaching us. Prior to issuing a warning, characteristically Jesus gives us illustrations. In Matthew we have the parables of the Ten Virgins and the parable of the Talents, as you so elegantly analyzed. In each parable we see a lack of faith as demonstrated by inaction. The faith of the 5 virgins and the man with one talent was not made manifest in their works.
But after the parables, we have words of warning from Jesus and he is very explicit. There will be a separating work, sheep from goats. It is no coincidence that this warning comes on the heals of the two parables. In each parable we see people whose faith led them to action and reward, and people whose lack of faith was demonstrated by their lack of action and their corresponding penalty. Remember the parable of the Good Samaritan? The action of the priest and the Levite (men of professed faith) passed on the other side of the road. Their action, despite their belief, condemned them, while the actions of the Good Samaritan were worthy of our Lords praise. Jesus was asked, "Teacher what must I do to inherit eternal life?", and after the parable, Jesus’ response was “Go and do likewise”.
Go and do likewise.
Jesus is clear. Faith alone is not enough. Faith is only saving faith when it is combined with action.
I believe that Christians risk by not being active in their faith.
Bill,
By the way, I meant to compliment you in your blessed attempt to interact with the knuckle-draggers over at Debunking Christianity. Lest you think that term is uncharitable, I believe that its written in the bible that God loves knuckle-draggers as he does the more evolved variety. I believe you have a unique gift for being able to expound upon spiritual matters in ways that seem to confound them. They don't seem to have a comeback because you aren't quoting chapter and verse like many of us who attempt to dialogue with them. You've taken a more thoughtful philosophical approach. I think you might manage to peel away one or more of their numbers.
May your efforts be blessed.
Regards,
Chris
Chris,
Thanks so much for your support and encouragement. But more importantly, I thank you for your astute comments re: Christian risk. Your insights are trenchant and helpful.
Peace to you,
Bill Gnade
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