Investments

Once upon a time, a great king decided to go on a journey, and he left some of his possessions in charge of some of his servants until he returned. He sat and thought, and then sent for Mohammed.

When Mohammed received the news he was to come before the King, he was surprised. He was after all, very poor. He didn’t have much in his little hovel. Furthermore, his neighbors and his family had rejected him. He was socially and economically ostracized, and scratched out a living, day by day asking for his daily bread. The King was calling him? Despite his incredible sense of wonder that he—he of all people—should be called, he washed his one pair of clothes and straightened them out as best as he could and then set off for the King’s palace.

When he arrived, the riches of the palace amazed him. Such a lush garden! Such quiet waters! Such abundance of glorious riches! Yet, what amazed him more was the King’s greeting—“Mohammed! Welcome!” Mohammed couldn’t help it—he glanced down at his dusty rags and ducked his head. The King noticed, and touched him. “Don’t be afraid,” he said gently, “for I have called you. Here, I want you to watch over some of my possessions while I am gone. Here are five talents. I trust you with those until I come back.”

“Five talents!!!” gasped Mohammed. “But that’s more than a lifetime’s earnings!”

The King’s merry laugh rang out at his surprise. “Do you think I do not own the cattle on a thousand hills?! I have glorious riches, and they are mine to bestow. Here you go.”

And Mohammed set off, amazed by grace.

The King pondered some more, and called a second servant to him. He sent off for Yolanda. The King’s messengers perhaps were even surprised as their path led them to a dingy apartment house in the ghetto of a city. Upon their knock, the door was answered by a loud, “Yeah, whadda want?”

“We have a message for Yolanda,” they replied.

“YOLANDA! Get yo’ *&%? outa here.”

A young woman opened the door and a wave of alcohol wafted from behind her. She herself was clean—and the messengers could see the scars she carried. She was stunned by the message to come before the King, but quickly prepared to leave with the messengers.

Like Mohammed, she too was amazed by the King’s welcome and humbled by his request to take care of two talents—almost an entire career’s worth of wealth. Eyes wide, she left his presence and set off to work.

The King had one talent left to entrust. He sent his messengers out once again—and with curiosity, they set off to see where this one would lead. They arrived at a nice white house with a well-kept trimmed grass lawn. They walked past the SUV in the driveway and knocked on the door. It was opened by a middle-aged man who invited them in. He offered some coffee with cream or sugar—the messengers politely declined. “We are here on urgent business. We are looking for Roger—he has been summoned by the King.”  

“I’m Roger. I’d be glad to come,” and he put a few things of his in order, made sure his things wouldn’t rust and that he had mothballs in his closets, locked his door and set the alarm, and he too left for the King’s palace, buckled into his SUV. The King warmly welcomed him, and entrusted him with one talent.

After some time, the King returned. He sent for Mohammad, who gladly came before him. Mohammad’s joy was almost tangible—“Look! My Giver, I invested your money! I am amazed how much it was blessed—it doubled! My King, here is your money! Here is your investment!”

The King was delighted with the investment, but also his servant’s joy. “You are joyful! And I invite you to greater joy. Well done! I trusted you with much—with pain and persecution and poverty. You have overcome and have been faithful. Come and share my happiness!”

Yolanda also came before him, quivering with the joy of laying before her Father and King her two talents—plus the two more she had gained. She, too, was amazed at how her little investments had multiplied the great amount that the King had given her.

“Yolanda,” he said, his voice warm with pleasure, “well done! You have been faithful with what I have given you—despite the scars, the pain, the suffering. I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share my happiness!”

Finally, his summons rang out to the suburbs, and he called Roger. Roger came, “O Great God, here is your one talent. I hid it—I was scared to lose it. I was not sure if it would get lost. What if I failed? I protected it, made sure it was safe.”

“Do you not think I am sufficient to protect what I have given? To be sufficient for your needs? That there are greater things waiting for you then this talent? Why did you not risk, knowing that I would carry you through? Did you fear I would drop you, harm you, not be enough for you so that you had to cling to what you had been given? Were you more concerned about being ‘right’ than risking it to carry out what I had commanded you to do?”

This doesn’t follow exactly the parable of the talents (Mat. 25:14-30) and it isn’t meant to be exactly on in exegesis and hermeneutics, but as I was reading it this morning, I realized I was reading this passage with my western-American cultural glasses. Perhaps those who seem to have least have been trusted with the greatest amounts. Perhaps those who have a lot—in the world’s eyes, in our American Christianity’s eyes—often don’t have as much as we think we do. Perhaps we are more caught up in what we do have than in risking for our Lord. Perhaps like the Ephesus church in Revelation 2, we have forsaken love for correct doctrine. We have settled for methods rather than boldness in sharing the gospel. Certainly, there are many faithful in our American Christianity. Yet, it is humbling that when I went to Honduras, to see the American missionaries’ emphasis on poverty relief—which is a beautiful, beautiful thing. Yet, so many Honduran Christians saw the Americans as the poorer—caught up in their materialism and worldliness and moral decay. They prayed to send missionaries to America.