The Master, the Slaves, the Judge and Jael

 

A sermon preached on FaceBook Live Broadcast 
Sirach 10:26 The Headstrong Daughter
Pentecost XXIV - Proper 26 A - November 15, 2020

It’s hard to imagine it but next week is The Feast of Christ the King, which always signals the end of the liturgical season. After that, Advent begins (can you believe it?) and, with it, we will begin a new liturgical year – year B, in fact – and hearing a great deal from the Gospel according to Mark. 

Today, we are left with the last of Matthew’s parables. In order to understand this particular, “Parable of the Talents,” it is important to remember the context in which it was spoken. Jesus was speaking to the disciples AFTER Palm Sunday. This parable, then, is told during the last week of his life. 

Put a pin in that little factoid as we’ll be coming back to it. It’s important to know lest we get confused about the various roles and functions of the characters in this parable. Ultimately, we need to answer the question “Just who is ‘the master’ and who are the three slaves?” 

Another clue to understanding this parable is to know that what the “master” has said to the third slave is absolutely contrary to everything every good Jew has been taught in Exodus and Leviticus. 

Contrary to other Stewardship sermons you might have previously heard, this is not a parable to endorse responsible investing or venture capitalism. It’s much deeper than that. Much deeper

The “master” clearly fits the depiction of the third slave as being “a harsh man, reaping where he did not sow and gathering where he did not scatter seed.” 

The “master” all but says, “Right – and therefore you should have invested with bankers and gained interest,” – which, P.S. and Oh, by the way, is forbidden by the law at that time. (Ex 22 and Lev 25)

So, if you’ve been thinking – as many people have, based on many sermons they’ve heard, especially during what is traditionally Stewardship Season in the church – that the master must be God or Jesus, think again. 

It wasn’t until I started to ask myself why the first lesson in the lectionary is from the Book of Judges (and just giving us a hint of he judge Deborah) that I began to make sense of this parable. 

It is the beginning of the little known story of Jael, which is rarely preached in the church because of its complicated ethical themes.

So, let me make a bit of a diversion into the story of Deborah and Jael in order to come back to a new insight I gained about this parable of Matthew. I am grateful to my colleague Sarah Jobe for help with this interpretation of Jael’s story. 

Judges 4 introduces the reader to Sisera who had “cruelly oppressed” Israel for 20 years, such that she was crying out to God for help (4:1). The story then switches to a courtroom drama, which we hear his morning, involving a judge named Deborah. 

Between trials, Deborah calls for military leader Barak and tells him that if he will go up against Sisera, God will deliver Sisera’s army into Barak’s hand. 

But Barak seems to know how difficult such an attack would be. He is out of his depth. He is scared. He asks for Deborah to join him in the fight. Deborah responds, “Very well, I will go with you. But because of the way you are going about this, the honor will not be yours, for the Lord will hand Sisera to a woman” (4:9, NIV).

Sisera brings 900 iron chariots to battle. Israel has no such strength, but she stands to fight anyway, desperate for these 20 years of oppression to end. And we are told that the Lord fights with and for Israel. 

As she stands to fight back against great odds, the Lord goes ahead of her and routs Sisera’s army. We are told that all the troops of Sisera fell by the sword that day; not a man was left (4:16). Except Sisera himself. 

The leader, the most powerful one, the one known as Sisera who, we are told has been oppressing Israel, slips away on foot to the tent of his ally Heber the Kenite. 

But Heber isn’t home. Jael, Heber’s wife, goes out to meet Sisera and invites him into her tent. Sisera asks for water. Jael gives him milk and covers him up. Sisera tells her to stand by the door while he sleeps and protect him. Jael obeys. She stands watch as he falls asleep. 

Then, in a scene that could have been written for an episode of “Criminal Minds,” Jael “picked up a tent peg and a hammer and went quietly to him while he lay fast asleep, exhausted. 

She drove the peg straight through his temple into the ground, and he died” (4:21).

The Bible says that when Jael killed Sisera, God subdued Israel’s enemy (4:23). Jael does not do what is expected of her. She violates hospitality. She violates her husband’s alliances. She violates gender roles—one of very few women in the Bible to kill anyone at all. Jael keeps her own counsel. She chooses to kill a violent oppressor, and by her act Israel “grows stronger and stronger” (4:24).

Judges 4–5 works through a cycle of pretelling, telling, and retelling the story of Jael. Jael’s story is not only talked about before it happens, it is also retold after the fact. Deborah and Barak join together to sing Jael’s song (5:1). 

In singing it, they offer an interpretation. Every life is precious. Every death is to be mourned. No one is to be oppressed. But if one person continues to flout such truth, God will fight against him for the safety of God’s people—through government, through the stars in the heavens, and through tent-dwelling women, mere housewives like Jael (5:19–24).

So now, let’s take a breath and return to the question of interpreting Matthew’s parable: “Just who is ‘the master’ and who are the three slaves?” 

Just as it is important to remember that, according to Matthew’s timeline, this parable was told by Jesus in the last week of his life, it is also important to remember that Matthew’s community lived in eager anticipation of the return of Jesus. Many people interpret that “master” as God, an interpretation I reject as not being anything close to the One who is revealed in the life of Jesus.

I have come to see that the master is representative of those who are unjust, especially in their business practices. The master does not care how the slaves make more money for him. He just wants more, and he doesn’t care who knows it.

Then, as now, the cultural engine runs on greed and everything is in service of keeping that engine running – including corruption and oppression.

While we, in our time, wait for Jesus’ return, do we allow ourselves to be defined by actors who are unscrupulous and immoral? Do we, for the sake of getting along and enjoying life, say, as the first two slaves must have said, “Well, that’s just the way things are” and do nothing to resist or change injustice – even if they come from those who have power over our lives, our bosses or managers, our government officials?

I can hear the early and present listeners of this parable asking questions about the master’s treatment of the third slave. Why? What evil has he done? As that slave is led away, I can hear “Why have you forsaken me?” on his lips.

The ones who reject injustice and are killed for it are the same as the One who hangs on the cross. I’m quite certain the injustice of what was to come must have been weighing heavily on the mind of Jesus during his last week of life.

I have come to see that this parable is a story of judgment about throwing people away who do not live up to our expectations – about not valuing the individuality and dignity of every human being. It is a call to acts of courage, risking the cultural and moral norms of our society for the sake of justice. 

Jael’s song has been sung for thousands of years, she who risked everything for the sake of throwing off the oppression of Israel. Generations of Christians have sung hymns of praise about Jesus and those who have sacrificed themselves for the cause of injustice and oppression. The ones who reject injustice and are killed for it are the same as the One who hangs on the cross. 

Life is complicated. Human behavior is complex. Neither can ever be explained away in neatly packaged parables which are open for interpretation. 

This is where the words of St. Paul to the ancient church in Thessalonica can assist us. Paul writes: 

“But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, and put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation. For God has destined us not for wrath but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live with him. Therefore encourage one another and build up each other, as indeed you are doing.”

For me, the message of these lessons is clear: 

Don’t bury your wealth or your treasure – whether it is financial or spiritual or emotional. Invest in people. Invest in the human enterprise. Invest for the greater good, the commonwealth (“common wealth”). 

Invest in each other as God invested in Jesus and Jesus invested in us, even though that cost him his very life. Invest in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, for therein lies our salvation; his resurrection ensures the unearned and undeserved gift of eternal life.

Amen.