Buried Talents

By: Dr. Gregory S. Neal


Languages are fascinating. How we get our words – their origins, etymologies, and evolving uses – have always been of interest to me. For example, from today’s Gospel reading we have the English word “talent.” In Latin, the word Talenta was a unit of measurement equaling about 77 pounds. In the Roman Empire it was most often used as a specific measurement of money, reflecting the intrinsic value of gold or silver. In today’s currency, a talent of gold would have been worth about $1,440,000.00, while a talent of silver would have been worth about $16,500.00. Either way, we’re talking about a great deal of money.

In today’s parable, Matthew 25:14-30, we have the story of a master who has entrusted three servants with an enormous sum of money to invest: “each according to their abilities.” If we assume the talents are of silver currency, then the first servant had $82,500 to invest, the second servant had $33,000 to invest, and the third servant had $16,500 to invest. That’s a lot of money, but I think we can get our minds around those sums. If they invested the money and made more money with it, great! That was clearly what their master wanted them to do, and the first two servants did just that. The third didn’t. Instead, he buried $16,500 in the ground and, when the master returned, he dug it up and gave it back.

We have the English word “talent” because of a particular interpretation of the word’s use in this story. I’m not joking. The evolution of the English language periodically works this way: sometimes very popular word usages within stories, and their interpreted meanings, will lend to those words other, further, often contextual meanings; that’s the case here.

Today a “talent” is usually thought of as a skill or an ability with which you have been born, but which you almost always have to improve upon to either keep or develop. I have a talent for music. I love to listen to music, I understand it, and I find great enjoyment in experiencing its performance. I’m also a decent singer, but by no means gifted or superb. When I tried to play the violin, however, I had to work very hard at it; I struggled with the bow and with the strings, and while I could play “Mary Had a Little Lamb” or the Brahms Lullaby fairly well, I was never inspired as a player. I was never superb, never pleasing, never productive, never creative ... in large part because I frequently became discouraged at how poorly my playing improved; sadly, my impatience and unwillingness to practice led to my putting down the violin and not playing it at all. Today, I’ve not tried to play it for decades ... my violin has been locked in its case, gathering dust, in a closet for years; when I last tried to play it, I couldn’t even sustain a decent note, much less play a tune. A talent has to be used, applied, and exercised for it to be maintained or improved upon. For it to grow and get better, for it to appreciate in value, a talent has to be exercised.

That’s the fundamental truth of this parable. Our talent – be it money or ability – is a gift that must be cultivated and used, not buried and ignored. In the parable, it was an investment of money. The servants were given money to care for, to put to good use, to invest while the master was away. They were custodians of that money; it wasn’t really theirs, they were simply serving as stewards. Each servant had been given a sum of money according to their abilities; the master knew the strengths and weaknesses of each, and gave them responsibility commensurate with their ... well, we would say, their talents. The first and second servants set out to do what they were supposed to do: they doubled their investments, and both are lavishly praised and rewarded:

"Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ (Matthew 25:21 or 23)

The third servant, however, didn’t do what he was supposed to do. He buried the money rather than risk losing it in an investment. And his reason for doing this reveals a lot about himself and his master:

"Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours." (Matthew 25:24-25)

At first, the third servant just seems afraid, and we might be tempted to feel sorry for him; I often do feel sorry for him when I read this story, because I can understand his fear. He’s afraid of risking and losing everything, and then being accountable to his master for not being successful. I did that when I buried my violin in a pile of stuff, looked at it every time I moved, but never again picked it up to play. I was afraid of being laughed at, of being ridiculed, of losing rather than gaining. I was a lot like that third servant when he buried the money the master had entrusted to him, and didn’t even try to grow it any, or apply or employee it in any way. And, at first, it seems like his fear was justified. Look at the response of the master:

"You wicked and lazy slave! You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter? Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my return I would have received what was my own with interest." (Matthew 25:26-27)

Ouch! A minimal risk, without much chance of a loss, would have been far better than doing nothing at all. It would have been something. But, like me, the third servant simply buried his talent and did nothing with it.

Now, there are many readers of this story who will focus their attention upon the master’s harsh judgment of the third servant; they will (rightly) complain about how mean and unjust the punishment is:

"So take the talent from him, and give it to the one with the ten talents. For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth." (Matthew 25:28-30)

From this it does appear as though the third servant’s fear was justified; the master does, indeed, seem rather harsh. However, I prefer to look back at the master’s initial response to the third servant’s reason for not investing the money. In that response, I detect a bit of exasperated sarcasm from the master, and it has led me to suspect that the servant has unfairly pre-judged the master. Keep in mind the source of this parable – Jesus – and who the master in the parable is supposed to represent: God! God is lavish with us, giving us great talents and opportunities to apply them; when we take the risk to grow our talents, the reward is always present in an improved ability as well as in the joy of doing. When we don’t take the risk to grow our talent, we lose it ... it atrophies and “is taken away.” And, like the third servant, we often don’t take the risk because we’re afraid ... perhaps, afraid of a judgmental God who will be harsh with us if we fail. Indeed, that’s how a lot of people view God: a maniacal judge who condemns and punishes, not a loving parent who comforts, guides, and forgives. Jesus’ experience and expression of God runs contrary to the harsh picture of God that many people – including the third servant – have.

I am convinced that the third servant’s fear of the master was unjustified, just as I’m convinced that so many people’s terror of God is not rooted in the teachings of Jesus but, rather, in our sick culture. If you follow the story closely, you’ll notice that the master is not so much concerned that the third servant didn’t make him a pile of money; rather, he is clearly disappointed that the third servant didn’t even try to do anything with his talent. He just buried it.

Have we buried our talents? I confess to you that I’m often like the third servant: I’ve been given a lot, but I don’t always apply what I’ve received. What talents have you been given? What talents have you buried? What talents have you pushed so far away from you that they’re not invested or growing in your life?

You know, you still have time. The Master hasn’t returned yet to see a return on the investment made in you. Is your talent buried? Dig it up and put it to work. It’s never too late to begin.

© 2020, Dr. Gregory S. Neal
All Rights Reserved

Stacks Image 9
The Reverend Dr. Gregory S. Neal is the Senior Pastor of Grace United Methodist Church in Des Moines, Iowa, and an ordained Elder of the North Texas Conference of The United Methodist Church. A graduate of Southern Methodist University, Duke University, and Trinity College, Dr. Neal is a scholar of Systematic Theology, New Testament origins, and Biblical Languages. His areas of specialization include the theology of the sacraments, in which he did his doctoral dissertation, and the formation and early transmission of the New Testament. Trained as a Christian educator, he has taught classes in these and related fields while also serving for more than 30 years as the pastor of United Methodist churches in North Texas.

As a popular teacher, preacher, and retreat leader, Dr. Neal is known for his ability to translate complex theological concepts into common, everyday terms. HIs preaching and teaching ministry is in demand around the world, and much of his work can be found on this website. He is the author of several books, including
Grace Upon Grace: Sacramental Theology and the Christian Life, which is in its second edition, and Seeking the Shepherd's Arms: Reflections from the Pastoral Side of Life, a work of devotional literature. Both of these books are currently available from Amazon.com.