multiplication and justice

The sermon at Nelson Mandela's Qunu funeral service yesterday, delivered by Methodist bishop Ziphozihle Siwa, reflected an interpretation that has become popular in some liberation theology circles.  While the bishop used his platform to focus on Mandela the advocate for justice--certainly a necessary complement to the more popular Mandela as agent of forgiveness--his interpretation does not to me do justice to the biblical texts which enshrine our notions of justice in the first place.

In the preacher's increasingly-worn interpretation, the third slave in Jesus' parable of the talents (Matthew 25:14-30) is the truly heroic one, the one whose decision to bury his only talent exposed an unjust system because it forced the master to admit that he is indeed cruel and unjust, "reaping where he does not sow, and gathering where he does not scatter" (25:26).  In such a reading, the third slave is noble because he refuses to play the game of an unjust (read "capitalist") system, unlike his two  "comrades in slavery" (Siwa's term) who invest their money presumably along the lines of their master's expectations.  The first two slaves are collaborators; the third fearless in his resistance to evil.  Even so, the clear commendation of the third slave in such an interpretation fits awkwardly with the text's simple condemnation of that slave, a contradiction which the preacher himself left unresolved.  For indeed, although the action of the third slave was applied to the life of Nelson Mandela, so too was the master's approval ("well done, good and trustworthy slave")--an approval in the parable which is given only to the slaves who did not bury their master's property.

Fortunately, it is not necessary to substantiate our claims for justice by setting aside a simple reading of the text, a reading which reconciles our modern dichotomy between the increase of wealth and the doing of justice.  If indeed, we are able for a minute to set aside either our "capitalist" or "communist" hermeneutics, we will find that the context of Matthew 25 enshrines both dignity and justice for those who have little and the abundance that is the hallmark of God's creation.

On its own, the parable of the talents might be read straightforwardly as a call not to "squander" the gifts that God has entrusted to his people, but to use them to bring about an increase of God's goodness in the world.  Nevertheless, because the text has been susceptible to a reading that enshrines a capitalist principle of investment apart from concern for those who have little, it is helpful to be reminded of the parable within its larger, literary context.  The parable of the talents, then, does not appear in Matthew's gospel on its own but as a continuation of the teaching about the coming of the Son of Man in chapter 24.  Moreover, within chapter 25, the parable of the talents is the middle of three stories which Jesus told, the first being the parable of the ten virgins and the third being the parable of the sheep and the goats.  All three parables are set within the context of the Lord's coming, and illustrate the type of life that befits those who are waiting for him.

The first and third parables, the ten virgins and the sheep and the goats, highlight different values of the life lived in hope of the kingdom which is coming.  In fact, those values that each teaches may seem not merely different but contradictory.  While in the parable of the ten virgins, for example, the five who were wise entered into the kingdom because they did not give some of their oil to their foolish counterparts who had made no provision for their lamps should their initial oil run out, the parable of the sheep and the goats commends those who give to those who have little, to the "least of these" (Matt 25:40).  If the parable of the ten virgins commends not giving as a way to the kingdom, the parable of the sheep and the goats commends giving as the way to the kingdom.  How can Jesus teach two seemingly contradictory values?

Perhaps the answer simply is that the life which brings glory to God is about both giving and not giving, withholding and bestowing, each in its own time.  In the parable of the ten virgins, the will to give not is the reflection of the broader purpose of accompanying the bridegroom into his kingdom.  The wise virgins know their task, and base their decision not to give to the foolish on the consideration that "there will not be enough [oil] for you and for us" in order to light the bridegroom's way (25:9).  To spread the oil too thinly among too many is to extinguish the light, whereas a few burning brightly can show the way.  In such a situation, what the foolish need is not to receive the oil which will soon be exhausted, but to replenish their own stocks so that they too may enter the banquet.  Some things the wise cannot give the foolish, but the foolish may become wise by knowing the purpose of their existence, namely, to participate in the glory (light) of God.  Perhaps we may then say that the parable of the ten virgins does not counsel not giving, but precisely giving in the form of the admonition of the foolish by the wise.

On the other hand, there is a time for giving not only in word but in deed, in giving to others who have want of the physical gifts we all need to survive.  In the parable of the sheep and the goats, the recipients of giving are described as neither foolish nor wise but in need--hungry, thirsty, estranged, naked, sick, imprisoned (25:37, 42-43).  To give to these determines our worthiness to enter into eternal life (25:46), and reflects the justice of God that all should have enough to live.

We may now observe that the parable of the talents likewise commends the will to give which the parable of the ten virgins expresses as admonition and the parable of the sheep and the goats expresses as compassion.  The first act of giving is that of the master who "summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them" (25:14).  This master need not be, judged by human standards, the absentee landlord who reaps what others have sown, but the gracious creator to whom we all owe our existence, the God who loved us enough to entrust creation to our care.  Our slavery, therefore, is not the inequality of otherwise inherent equals--a predicament known simply as sin--but the indebtedness of creatures to their Creator; the slavery described by the parable is not the inequality of injustice but the inequality of grace.  Moreover, if God is the master and grace is God's will, then we who are slaves are accountable to that grace.  As God was gracious with God's gifts, entrusting them to our care, so we are responsible to "be fruitful and multiply", bearing fruit now for the kingdom which is to come (Gen 1:28).  What we are not to do, that which is inconsistent with God's giving, is to bury the property entrusted to us.  Far from being the commendable act exposing the system of injustice, resolving not to multiply wealth endowed precludes the extension of that wealth to others, thus defeating the ends of justice.  At the same time, that which may not be overlooked is that very end itself--that the purpose for which we were created is not multiplication for multiplication's sake, but multiplication for sharing the goodness of God (justice).

Seen within the context of the parable of the ten virgins, we might reaffirm the call of the parable of the talents to the responsibility of each person to use his or her gifts in the service of God's kingdom.  Just as the foolish virgins could not receive the oil which they were not prepared to hold, so, on account of his carelessness, the third slave was unable to "enter into the joy of [his] master" (25:21, 23).  His failure to care was the forfeit of his talent to the one who had been "trustworthy in a few things" (25:21, 23, 28).  That some receive the more that others might have had is, in certain cases, the evidence of the interplay between responsibility and carelessness.  But viewed within the light of compassion to "the least of these", that personal responsibility which the parable of the talents upholds is always for the sake of justice.  God's first commandment to his creatures--"be fruitful and multiply"--always goes hand-in-hand with the greatest commandment--"love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind, and your neighbor as yourself" (Gen 1:22, 28; Mt 22:36-40).

Our choice, then, is not between multiplication and justice, or between a personal responsibility and a communal ethic.  In any moment, we must choose how to love God and neighbor, faithfully using the gifts entrusted to our care.

-Joe