When We Bury Ourselves - Matthew 25:14-39

The parable of the talents has always bothered me, because the servant who plays it safe and does not gamble with the money that was left in his care is targeted for retribution. I guess it bothers me because I am not a terribly adventurous person. I never had a rebellious period during my teenage years; I was the good kid who did not party. Sometimes I am embarrassed to think back on how dull a person I must have been back then. However, I am not the same person I was then, as I have taken risks in my professional life. But the "good son" in me still identifies with that servant who decided to play it safe.
A talent was a heavy piece of currency, weighing as much as seventy-five pounds, and representing about thirty-years' worth of wages for the average person in the ancient near-east. Knowing that bit of data may better help us understand why the master was so pleased with the two servants who made his money grow. In light of the current financial crisis worldwide, I have heard more than one individual muse about whether or not it might be a good idea to return our savings to the trusty mattress. It is hard to argue with taking a conservative fiscal approach during these very challenging times. If the parable was just about money, we might be able to modify its meaning in light of contemporary financial realities. But what if it's not just about money?
I came across some writings by Frederick Beuchner, that beloved writer who takes on sacred cows and willingly wrestles with them. He thinks of the first servant as one who took what might have been the "most alive part of himself" and buried it in the ground.Having done that, he was never able to become what he might have been. Beuchner then looks at the servant's punishment,being alone in the outer darkness, as the inevitable consequence of leaving one's life out of fear of living it fully.
The parable has larger teeth for us when we look at it as having less to do with money, and more with what we do with the lives we are living.I will avoid the cliche here of talking of how we should use our talents for God, because there are plenty of pastors who will talk about that in their stewardship campaigns. Instead, I think the parable is far richer if we, like Beuchner, see the talent as representing that part of ourselves that fears change or newness, or that tries desperately to not look at the pain that has been a part of our lives to this point. Instead of leaning into our pain and experiences so that we may work from that point to wherever such acknowledgments may lead, we bury it and hope never to think of it again. In so doing, we remain right there, at the grave, never having ventured beyond that hole in the ground. Yes, I was the "good son" who seldom got into trouble. But I have also been one who took the talent, heaved its weight upon my shoulder and dared to venture into the market, even if for just a short time. The parable beckons me to put on my hiking shoes and gloves and hoist that sucker one more time, and to walk in exactly the places in which I am afraid to go.