The Agoraphobic Disciple

This parable contains the most tragic verse, in my opinion, in the New Testament.  “…I was afraid and I went and hid your talent in the ground.” 

Have you ever known anyone with agoraphobia?  It's sort of the opposite of claustrophobia.  A part of the definition of agoraphobia is a fear of wide open spaces.

Our son has mild agoraphobia, and he will tell you his phobia began when he was six years old at a specific time and place.  It was a beautiful, cloudless, clear January Colorado day, and we decided to take a drive in the mountains.   We drove out highway 285 to the southwest and came to the crest of Kenosha Pass overlooking South Park.   There had been a lot of snow and South Park was covered with a thick blanket of powder.  We drove over the pass and down the other side.  As we descended to the floor of South Park we were suddenly hit with 50-80 mph down-sloping winds off the Mosquito Mountain Range.  The ferocious winds picked up that deep powder, swept it along the ground and literally created a curtain of sheer white in front of our car.  The combination of dazzling sunlight and the blowing snow reduced visibility to zero.  We could see nothing, in front, in back or to the sides.  We crept across South Park at less than 5 mph.  We got past Jefferson and conditions improved slightly, but not much.  Somewhere between Jefferson and Fairplay I noticed the car was losing power and would barely run.  We limped into Fairplay and the car simply quit.  I opened up the hood only to find everything under the hood: engine, air cleaner, carburetor, alternator, everything encased in a block of ice!   

It was a terrifying experience.  We were afraid to go forward for fear of hitting something; afraid to stop for fear of something hitting us.  I drove and Marcia navigated by rolling down her window on the passenger side, and while looking for the edge of the road, verbally instructed me to veer left, or right, or stay straight just to stay on the road. 

Ever since then David has had a fear of wide open spaces.  When he moved from Alaska to Kansas City almost four years ago, he, his fiancée and a friend drove across country from Washington State.  He said he had a few mild panic attacks in the wide-open spaces of the west. 

Luckily David’s phobia is relatively mild.  Severe agoraphobia is a fear that can keep people locked in their homes, afraid to venture outside the comforting enclosure of their own four walls. The outside, open-air world is too vast, too unpredictable, too teeming with unknown dangers to risk encountering.

In many ways all of Europe was agoraphobic prior to the ocean voyages of Columbus, Magellan and others. It was taught that if one sailed beyond the range of known lands and latitudes the edge of the earth would bring an abrupt, ugly end to the voyage. The maps of the times faded off into hazy nothingness, or populated the murky unknown edges with frightening descriptions of sea monsters and dragons.

It is no wonder that all but the most adventurous were content to stay within the safe confines of known lands and waters. The world that lay beyond was far too risky and too scary to enter.

Now we have GPS trackers that can locate something as small as a wallet precisely at any point on the planet, and there are super telescopes that extend our vision to the edge of the universe.  There is virtually nowhere that qualifies as unknown territory anymore. We aren't afraid to go far, or fast, or to a place where we haven't gone before because we have tools that provide us with sneak peeks, and technology that can immediately communicate to others our exact location. Hikers and explorers can take beacons, cell phones and satellite phones with them so that they won’t be ever truly lost.

Our risks aren't so much geographical anymore. But there do remain high-risk, unknown territories for us to dare to explore. What and where are they?  I believe the most frightening and uncharted territories lie inside our hearts and inside our souls. Our hearts and souls offer risks that can be far more terrifying that any mythical dragons or uncharted waters.

In today's gospel text the departing master entrusts three different portions of his goods with three different servants.  Two of the servants stepped up to the challenge, embraced the potential handed to them, and through risk-taking and skillful trading managed not just to do well, but to increase their master's initial investment by one hundred percent.

The third servant had a very different reaction to the opportunity offered by his master. This third servant did what he perceived to be the safe thing with the single talent he had been given. He buried it in the ground, which was by the way, one of the most accepted forms of responsible safekeeping back in the first century.

But when the master returned and summoned his three servants to learn the status of the funds he had entrusted with them, he is unimpressed and angry with the third servant's strategy. The two servants who wholeheartedly plunged into the challenge, who risked all the master had given them in order to increase the master's kingdom, are praised. They are rewarded with more responsibilities, and ultimately invited to "enter into the joy of the master."  But the play-it-safe strategy adopted by the third servant earns him nothing but the rebuke and scorn of the master, the label of wicked and lazy, and was thrust into the outer darkness far away from the joy of his master.

You see Jesus doesn't want his disciples to hunker down and keep our heads low.  Disciples aren't called to avoid risk, avoid high stakes, and avoid genuine challenges. A disciple of Jesus operates within the world of high risk. Jesus placed himself in the front line of history, and I believe he calls us to place ourselves in the front line as well.

The parable of the talents is less about using your talents wisely than it is about risking your talents for the master and his kingdom. The 100% increase of talents for those servants who risked everything isn't a lesson in wise money management. Instead it's a call to step out beyond our safe avenues and accepted lifestyles, with the trust that putting everything in the hands of God is the best investment we can ever make. Only by giving everything over, only by putting ultimate control beyond our short reach and into God’s hands do we find the joy that Jesus' parable promises.

Too often I believe we Christians mistakenly think of the church as a safe haven, a sanctuary away from the dangers and risks of the world. And sometimes it is and needs to be.  However, the church is the fellowship where disciples put God given talents, abilities, gifts and resources to work for the sake of the master's kingdom.  The church is the fellowship where we encourage each other  to become risk-takers and dare-devils for the sake of the kingdom of God and the Lord Jesus Christ.

The true definition of a sanctuary isn't a safe place from risks. A true definition of a sanctuary is a safe place that empowers me to take risks. When is it that the church became known as a risk-free-zone? Where is it Jesus called his disciples to follow him and promised he would lead them into a risk-free-life?

A disciple of Jesus operates within the world of high risk. You and I are not called to be venture capitalists. We are called to be venture disciples.  As the play it safe, risk-free one-talent servant learned the hard way, the ultimate risk is to not risk.  Anything good entails risk, and innovation, and imagination, and courage, and sacrifice, and commitment.

We as a church need to reaffirm a theology of risk. The church isn't a place of safety from risks, but a safe place to take risks. The time until Jesus returns isn't the time for rocking-chair readiness, or for franchised dreams, or for risk-free strategies. This is the time to blaze new trails of love in our communities; to recommitment ourselves to the causes of justice and fairness; to risk being generous with the gifts and talents God has entrusted to each and everyone of us. 

Today it is commitment Sunday at Holy Love.  My deepest prayer is that every household in this congregation would make a commitment this year; and I pray that our commitments would reflect the attitude of the two servants in the parable - those willing to not to play it safe, but take a risk to empower the master's kingdom.

My prayer is also that each and every one of us would grow in our giving this year.  the bible challenges us to make as our goal for giving a tithe.   Maybe that seems out of reach for you, but even so, I challenge you to risk taking even a small step towards that goal in the giving of your talent of treasure. 

The master said to the two who risked for the sake of the kingdom, "Enter into the joy of your master."

The joy of master is a paradoxical joy that can only be known and experienced as we, like our Lord did for our sake on the cross, step away from our play-at-safe agendas and risk ourselves for his sake and the sake of his kingdom. 

Amen.