The parable of the talents, found in the gospels of Matthew and Luke, provides insight into how the Lord conducts his affairs and what he expects of those in his service.
In the parable, a nobleman who is about to go on a journey calls three of his servants and gives them each a certain number of “talents” with which to do business while he is away. The “talent” referenced here is the Roman Attic talent, a weight in that was equivalent to about 8,400 denarii. The denarius was a common working man’s daily wage at the time of Christ; so assuming a six-day work week here, a single talent would have taken the average wage earner 8,400 days (26 years) to acquire. To the first servant, the master entrusts five talents (42,000 denarii, 133 years’ worth of wages). To the second, he entrusts two denarii (16,800 denarii, 53 years’ worth of wages). To the third, he entrusts a single talent.
When the master returns, he calls his servants to account for the use they’ve made of his goods while he was away. The first servant, to whom the master gave five talents, has made five more talents, and is rewarded. The second servant, to whom the master gave two talents, has made two more talents, and is rewarded. The third servant does not fare as well in the judgment:
“And the one also who had received the one talent came up and said, ‘Master, I knew you to be a hard man, reaping where you did not sow and gathering where you scattered no seed. And I was afraid, and went away and hid your talent in the ground. See, you have what is yours.’ “But his master answered and said to him, ‘You wicked, lazy slave, you knew that I reap where I did not sow and gather where I scattered no seed. Then you ought to have put my money in the bank, and on my arrival I would have received my money back with interest. Therefore take away the talent from him, and give it to the one who has the ten talents.’ “For to everyone who has, more shall be given, and he will have an abundance; but from the one who does not have, even what he does have shall be taken away. Throw out the worthless slave into the outer darkness; in that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” – Matthew 25:24-29Of course, the overall point of this parable is that the Lord expects those in his service to do profitable work for his kingdom, but when we break down the language used here we gain some additional insights.
“Master, I knew you to be a hard man…”
The word “hard” here is translated from the Greek word skieros, which Vines Expository Dictionary comments on as follows:
“(from skello, ‘to be dry’). It was applied to that which lacks moisture, and so is rough and disagreeable to the touch, and hence came to denote ‘harsh, stern, hard.’ Skieros is always [a form of reproach] and indicates a harsh, even inhuman, character.”
The gospel of Luke contains a similar parable where the unprofitable servant calls his master “an austere man” (Luke 19:21). ‘Austere’ is translated from the Greek word austeros, which Vines says is related to skieros in that it denotes a harsh character, but where skieros has to do with something that is harsh to the touch, austeros has to do with something that is too strong to the taste:
“Primarily denotes ‘stringent to the taste,’ like new wine not matured by age, unripe fruit, etc…Austeros is ‘rather the exaggeration of a virtue pushed too far, than an absolute vice.’”
Why does the servant view his master in this way?
“Master, I knew you to be a hard man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you scattered no seed.”
In other words, the servant is accusing his master of ruthlessly reaping the benefits of the labor of others, claiming what they have worked for as his own while doing no work himself.
“And I was afraid, and went away and hid your talent in the ground. See, you have what is yours.”
The word translated “afraid” here (Greek – phobeo) can simply mean to be fearful, but in earlier usage it actually meant ‘to put to flight’: to scare someone to the point where they run. This seems to be what is meant here, as the servant says he “went away.”
Putting these ideas together, we see that the servant is accusing his master of ruthlessly exploiting the labor of others, and claims that he was so afraid of working for such a man that he ran off and hid the talent he’d been given, ignoring his charge as if it didn’t exist. Effectively, he’s saying to the master: “I want nothing to do with you and your business.” We might then ask: Well, if the servant hasn’t been tending to his master’s affairs, what has he been doing all this time? Apparently, he’s been tending to his own business. His excuse that he was afraid of his master is really a cop-out. He’s just uninterested in anything but his own affairs.
The master then judges the servant, as Luke’s account reads, by his own words.
“You wicked, lazy slave. You knew that I reap where I did not sow and gathered where I scattered no seed. Then you ought to have put my money in the bank, and on my arrival I would have received my money back with interest. Therefore, take the talent from him and give it to the one who has the ten talents.”
There’s some strong irony in this response. The servant’s problem with the master is that he profits without labor, and in judging him the master tells the servant how he might have profited without labor as well. He says that the servant should have put the master’s money in the bank, where it would have gained interest without any further effort on the servant’s part. Yet, the servant was unable to do even this much, and finds himself condemned. The talent is then taken from him and given to the one who showed the best results with his master’s money, while the worthless servant is cast from his master’s presence.
There are numerous lessons for us in all of this.
First, the Lord is careful with his treasures. Like any good manager, he knows which employees can be trusted to perform well, and distributes responsibilities accordingly. Parents do this as well. They usually know which of their children can handle responsibility and which can’t. If they leave the house for a time, they don’t put the least capable kid in charge. Accordingly, the Lord distributes ability and responsibility to those he knows can handle it. Some get more, and some less. This is his decision, not ours.
Second, notice that the Lord commends both profitable servants. He doesn’t chide the servant to whom he gave only two talents for not gaining five, like the most profitable servant did. He gave the servant two talents, and commends him for gaining two more. The servant met the master’s expectations, and was rewarded for it. The Lord simply expects that his servants will use what they’re given, and in the proper proportion.
Third, the Lord gives even less-capable servants a chance to better themselves. Employers and parents do the same thing: they try to encourage their employees and children who aren’t doing as well to do better, and this is how we ought to consider the things we’re given to do. The master undoubtedly knew that the lazy servant wasn’t capable of much, so he didn’t give him much to do; but he gave him something, and there was honor as well as expectation in that charge. Yet, the servant chose to see his master’s charge as nothing more than an unwanted burden.
Fourth, note that the master doesn’t chide the lazy servant for not gaining another full talent. He doesn’t even expect that much. He would have been satisfied with merely gaining some interest on the talent. The servant chided the master for being a hard man, but the master shows here that he’s actually flexible. When he gives something, he expects some sort of increase on it—even if only something minimal. He set the lowest possible standard, and the servant was unable to meet even that expectation.
Fifth, although the lazy servant must have been busying himself with his own affairs while his master was gone, the master doesn’t condemn him for even this. He condemns him for completely neglecting his master’s business. The Lord knows that people have interests, need to make a living, etc., and he doesn’t condemn that. He simply asks that something be done for his sake.
Maybe you have no idea what it is that the Lord expects of you. Maybe you don’t feel that you have much to offer in the first place. The lesson of this parable is simply that the Lord expects you to do something in his service. He expects some return on his investment—even a minimal effort. You don’t have to preach to millions like a Billy Graham, give up everything and become a missionary, or have the ability to sing like an angel, or raise the funds to build vast ministries in order to please God. Just do what you can with what you have. It’s always good to learn more, to stretch and grow; but don’t let a lack of confidence or a perceived lack of ability freeze you into doing nothing at all.
As the psalmist writes in Psalm 103:14, God “knows our frame; he is mindful that we are but dust.” God’s standards of judgment are probably not as harsh as we sometimes envision. He knows our limitations and makes accommodation for them. More often than not, our judgment comes from our own standards. This is one of the fundamental teachings Christ gave to his disciples: “For in the way you judge, you will be judged; and by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you” (Matthew 7:2). In its context, Christ meant this specifically with respect to how we treat others, but we still see the same principle at work in the parable of the talents. The master judged his servant by his own words and standards. For this reason, it would benefit us to think of the excuses we would offer up to God in giving account for ourselves, and think of how he might use our own words and standards to judge us. In this way, we judge ourselves and have the opportunity to adjust our course in life before we meet the Lord (I Corinthians 11:31).
* All scriptures cited here are taken from the NASB.
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