Mt 25:14-30
16 November 2008
“Playing not to Lose”
My sermon title is a phrase often used in sports. It refers to a decision by a coaching staff to play conservatively. In the context of football, it would mean calling safe plays on offense—not taking any chances—running the football, trying to take time off the clock. A lot of the time, it’s a good strategy, but “playing not to lose” often means doing that very thing: losing!
Let me tell you a tale of woe, a tale of horror, of one of the greatest 4th quarter comebacks (or, from my perspective, meltdowns) in NFL history. This was on Monday Night Football in 2000 when the Miami Dolphins had a 30-7 lead over the New York Jets as the 4th quarter began. So horrific was that night that the changes in the score are burned into my mind.
The Dolphins’ coaches decided to move away from the nice mixture of passing and running the ball that got them the big lead. The plan was for the offense to run out the clock, but the Jets’ defense kept forcing them to punt the ball. And the Jets’ offense started scoring points. When the score was 30-20, I thought surely they’d realize that this isn’t working. Go back to how you played the first three quarters of the game! You were doing so well!
But no! It was only after the Jets tied the game at 30 that the Dolphins started throwing the football again. And guess what? It worked! They scored a touchdown and regained the lead, 37-30, with time running out. But it was too late. They had allowed the Jets to get too much momentum going, and they again tied the game, forcing sudden death overtime. And that was when the Jets kicked the field goal that won the game, 40-37.
Who says that there are no spiritual lessons, no jewels of wisdom, to be learned from football—or from sports in general? Of course, I don’t mind admitting that the lesson here is one I’d prefer to have been inflicted on Jets fans. (The horror of that night was eased somewhat in 2005, when the Dolphins overcame a 20-point 4th quarter deficit against their archenemies, the Buffalo Bills.)
That last comment notwithstanding, we often have to feel the pain before we do gain valuable knowledge. And speaking of pain, today’s gospel reading in Matthew, the parable of the talents, is one that includes some rather stern and painful elements. If you were paying attention as the parable was read, you know what I mean. It also features someone who decides to play not to lose. By the way, I’ve never heard anyone list this among their favorite Bible stories!
We should put this into context. It’s part of a passage that starts at the beginning of chapter 24. That’s where the disciples of Jesus ask him, “What will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?” (v. 3). Before we get to our parable, he warns them of false messiahs and false prophets. He tells them to live their lives with awareness, with expectancy.
On the surface, it looks like Jesus is comparing his return—the end of the world as we know it—to an extremely wealthy man, who incidentally, is not a very pleasant fellow. This guy is preparing for a very long voyage. He says that it’s like this “man, going on a journey, [who] summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them; to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away” (vv. 14-15).
He has entrusted his property to the slaves. That doesn’t mean they’ve been given license to squander it. Of course, it would be almost impossible for them to spend that much money. As so often happens in the parables of Jesus, there is a great deal of exaggeration.
A talent is an enormous amount of money. In the New Testament era, it equals roughly 6000 denarii. One denarius is considered to be the usual daily wage for laborers. Taking this in a mindlessly literal way, if we remove 52 sabbaths, that leaves us with 313 work days in the year. That would mean that one talent equals more than 19 years of daily wages! One slave receives five talents, and another receives two! (I’ll let you do the math.)
Needless to say, the parable isn’t intended to be an accounting ledger. It’s all about what the slaves do with what they’ve been given. The one who’s been given five talents makes five more; the one who’s been given two makes two more. “But the one who had received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money” (v. 18).
Here’s the guy who decides to call only safe plays. He doesn’t want to take any risks. He’s the one who is playing not to lose. However, their master is taking a chance on them. He expects them to use the money he’s entrusted to them; he wants them to make him even more money. And he’s furious at the one who does nothing with it. This is where those “stern and painful elements” I mentioned come into play!
How can Jesus compare himself to this guy? Is he using his behavior as a praiseworthy model? As Australian minister Bruce Prewer puts it, “The Lord of the Gospel fully trusts his servants. He leaves his country and travels abroad. It is now entirely up to them whether they succeed or fail. A high risk strategy indeed!”[1] It’s the trust that counts, not the rich guy’s character flaws.
And it’s not only trust that’s involved, but there’s also a sense of reward—and what a reward it is. Notice what the master says to the first two slaves. To each of them, he says, “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” (vv. 21, 23).
You have been trustworthy in a few things! Remember the vast sum of money that we’re supposed to be talking about. These two, especially the one with the five talents, have made more than anyone can spend in a lifetime! That is what gets labeled “a few things.” This speaks to the reckless overabundance of God’s grace.
All right, things go well for the two slaves who take a risk. What about the third one? As Al Pacino famously shouts in the movie Carlito’s Way, “Here come da pain!” His master chews him out and issues the order: “As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” (v. 30). Without a doubt, here come da pain!
Here’s a question. How could that final image be the result of living too cautiously, of playing not to lose? Could it be about the intense pain of opportunities missed? Could it be about the fear that prevents us from taking even minimal risks? Does it speak to the heartache of denying the best within ourselves?
Bruce Epperly talks about this. “Often, we act as if we live in a ‘closed system’ [something that doesn’t allow for growth] in which no new energies or possibilities can emerge. Often, we see ourselves in terms of what we lack rather than the surprising and life-changing possibilities residing within our…limitations. We have not, because we ask not—and dream not!”[2] (I’m preaching to myself as much as anybody.)
He acknowledges, as I just did, the reality of joy and sorrow in the parable. “There is threat in this scripture, but the threat is dwarfed by the promises of abundant life. Will we sacrifice growth and adventure because we are afraid to take risks? If we cling safely to the status quo, what are we missing in terms of divine energy and possibility?”[3]
Sometimes we’re uncomfortable with responsibility. On our trip to Maryland a couple of weeks ago, we stopped at a convenience mart in Pennsylvania. I noticed on the front page of the Altoona Mirror an article about the election. There was a quote from a local resident: “I never vote, because I don’t want to be responsible for what happens in the world.” (I guess that’s not the best example of democracy!) Still, as the rock band Rush said in their song “Freewill,” “If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice!”
Over the centuries, the word “talent” took on the meaning we give it today: the idea of a gift, or an ability. Bearing that idea in mind, this parable isn’t high on my list of favorite stories, either. But it’s one I need to hear; it continually challenges me. There’s a lot about that third slave which I see in myself.
I think if we’re honest, this parable challenges all of us. I wonder, what are some ways in which we play it safe? What are some ways in which we play not to lose? And going beyond that, can we see how that demonstrates fear and mistrust, rather than love and faith?
Our friend Bruce Prewer says, “I guess none of us can look back over the years of our Christian experience and be completely content…Most of us have regrets. And it is certain that at an appropriate time the Master will come to us and ask each one to give account of our stewardship. But because this Master, Christ Jesus, is one who forgives sins and can make significant profits out of a little capital (whenever it is lovingly dedicated to his service) therefore we need not be afraid.”[4]
Are we playing not to lose? We can still turn—and play to win.