By Very Rev. Robert Barron
The attendance at our daily Mundelein Seminary on Labor Day weekend was sparse. Many of the students had gone home while others were on a special tour of Chicago churches. The celebrant and preacher for the Sunday Mass was Fr. Robert Schoenstene, our veteran Old Testament professor. Fr. Schoenstene offered the best interpretation I’ve ever heard of a particularly puzzling parable of the Lord, and I wanted to make sure his reading got a wider audience.
The parable in question is the one concerning the rich man who gives talents to three of his servants and then sets out on a journey. Upon his return, he assesses the situation and discovers that the servant to whom he had given five talents had invested them fruitfully and that the servant to whom he had given three talents had done the same. But he finds, to his chagrin, that the slave to whom he had entrusted one talent had simply buried the wealth and had garnered neither gain nor interest. Angered, he orders that the one talent be taken from the timid servant and given to the servant who had invested most boldly. And then comes the devastating moral lesson: “For to everyone who has, more will be given and he will grow rich; but from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away.”
The standard reading of this story—on display in thousands of sermons and fervorinos—is that the talents symbolize gifts and abilities that God has given to us and that he expects us to “spend” generously or “invest” wisely. This interpretation is supported by the fairly accidental relationship that obtains between “talent” in the ancient Biblical sense of the term and “talent” in ordinary English today. Fr. Schoenstene specified that a talent in ancient times was a measure of something particularly weighty, usually silver or gold. A single talent might represent as much as 50 pounds of precious metal and, as such, was not something that one carried around in one’s pocket. We might make a comparison between a talent and a unit of gold kept at Fort Knox, or an ingot of silver preserved in a safe deposit box. What the contemporary reader will likely miss, and what the ancient Jewish reader would have caught immediately, is the connection to heaviness: a talent was weighty, and five talents was massively heavy. Heaviness would have brought to mind the heaviest weight of all, which was the kabod of Yahweh. That term was rendered in Greek as doxa and in Latin as gloria, both of which carry the connotation of luminosity, but the basic sense of the Hebrew word is heaviness, gravitas.
And this kabod Yahweh was to be found in the Jerusalem Temple, resting upon the mercy seat within the Holy of Holies. Therefore, what was heaviest (most glorious) of all was the mercy of God, which abided in infinite, inexhaustible abundance in the Holy Temple.
In light of these clarifications, we can read Jesus’ parable with fresh eyes. The talents given to the three servants are not so much monetary gifts or personal capacities; they are a share in the mercy of God, a participation in the weightiness of the divine love. But since mercy is always directed to the other, these “talents” are designed to be shared. In point of fact, they will increase precisely in the measure that they are given away. The problem with the timid servant who buried his talent is not that he was an ineffective venture capitalist but that he fundamentally misunderstood the nature of what he had been given. The divine mercy—received as a pure gift—is meant to be given to others as a pure gift. Buried in the ground, that is to say, hugged tightly to oneself as one’s own possession, such a talent necessarily evanesces. And this is why the master’s seemingly harsh words should not be read as the punishment of an angry God but as an expression of spiritual physics: the divine mercy will grow in you only inasmuch as you give it to others. To “have” the kabod Yahweh is precisely not to have it in the ordinary sense of the term.
What comes to mind here is the most famous of all of Jesus’ parables, namely, the story of the Prodigal Son. Using a term that also carried a monetary sense in ancient times, the younger son says, “Father give me my share of the ousia (substance or wealth) that is coming to me. Notice how in one sentence, he manages to mention himself three times! The father gives away his ousia, for that is all he knows how to do, but the foolish son squanders the money in short order. The spiritual lesson is the same: the divine ousia is a gift and it can be “had” only inasmuch as it becomes a gift for others. When we try to cling to it as a possession, it disappears.
How wonderful that these ancient stories, once we unpack their spiritual significance, still sing to us today.
Father Robert Barron is the founder of the global ministry, Word on Fire, and the Rector/President of Mundelein Seminary. He is the creator of the award winning documentary series, "Catholicism" and "Catholicism:The New Evangelization." Learn more at www.WordonFire.org.
This "fresh" interpretation is a " reach ". Too clever by half. If the "talents " really symbolized God's mercy, it still makes no sense that the servant who initially received the most would also get the "Mercy" taken away from the "burying " servant.ReplyDelete
Indeed, Israel B. is on to something. The interpretation is quite a stretch for the simple fact that it leaves half the elements behind. Truly, why does the "master" say that he would have had the servant at least return his "mercy" at interest? Moreover, why does the "master" affirm that he "reaps where he did not sow..."? While it seems undeniable that mercy may indeed be one of the "talents" with which we are entrusted, one cannot exclude those personal capacities or monetary gifts. Moreover, the Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Catholic Church affirms that we each receive different gifts and talents in differing degrees such that we must live in solidarity.ReplyDelete
One can see why it is asserted that this parable still "sings" to us today, since we don't want to hear about the Wrath of God, but only His Glory and Mercy. And yet, as Ratzinger observes in his book "The Yes of Jesus", a God of mercy without His wrath, a Christ of love without the truth, has nothing to do with the Christ as the Sacred Scriptures present Him to us.
Honestly this is one of the best interpretations I have seen about this parable. It is true what he says Luke 6:38 "Give, and it shall be given unto you" even in the sense of our western view of talents this parable still holds true! the gifts that God gives whether tangible (music, athletics, art, etc) should be given back to him and others! Matthew 5:14-16 "“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven." in the same way we must give back our divine love, and talents, gifts, etc unto others and God not because we expect a return but because we ourselves are given God's grace free of charge, and all He wants in return is for you to use them for others and by doing so you glorify the Almighty! For God is Love. rather than being timid and hiding your love and grace, let your light shine so that others will follow in your footsteps!!!ReplyDelete
While an interesting interpretation of the passage I think what is lacking is an interpretation of symbol of money. A talent is associated with money. Money that is hoarded has little value. You can't eat gold or paper but you can buy things with them. Mercy that is hoarded really ceases to be mercy. That being said the common understanding of mercy which is everyone is saved and sin can't damn eternally is false and actually not merciful. It is as irresponsible as handing a child a loaded gun without teaching him to be safe with it. Very little mercy is shown with this understanding of mercy. May our Lord make all Catholics truly merciful and like the man with 5 talents.ReplyDelete