Heaven is a house

 

Matthew 25: 14-30
New Ark United Church of Christ, Newark, DE
November 19, 2023 – Pledge Sunday

Photo of a tent with the words "Housing is a human right" on it in big red letters. Caption: "Criminalization is an expensive way to make homelessness worse." - David Peery, Miami Coalition to Advance Racial Equity

Here we have yet another parable that troubles us, and it should. Professor of New Testament and Jewish Studies and author Amy-Jill Levine writes that, “The parable should disturb. If we hear it and are not disturbed, there is something seriously amiss with our moral compass. It would be better if we perhaps started by seeing the parable not as about heaven or hell or final judgment, but about kings, politics, violence, and the absence of justice. If we do, we might be getting closer to Jesus.”



It’s too easy to listen to a story we agree with, that affirms what we think we know, we nod our heads and move on to the next thing. When scripture bothers us, when we disagree with it, we’ve started a conversation, an argument, a debate with it, which as a rabbi is what Jesus would’ve expected. It is through these challenges to our assumptions and what we know so far that then we grow.



When we read scripture, we read from our own experience, through our individual lives, from what we know—including study and knowledge. Which, when you think about it, is a very limited way of reading scripture. Though we do not usually think of ourselves as narrow-minded, we have many implicit biases. Skin color, gender, sexuality, and privilege are chief among them. Most of the time when I read scripture, I don’t think, “I’m reading this as a White, graduate-degree, middle-class, middle-aged, English-speaking, able-bodied, heterosexual, married, cisgender female.” And yet I should. This is part of my privilege, and my arrogance: that I can read the Bible and assume that this passage is speaking to me or to us as a faith community, that the message is one intended for us.



But it really isn’t. Most of the Hebrew and Christian scriptures are stories about the ones who don’t have a voice, who are on the bottom of society, who have no power. And the word “ability”—as in “each according to their ability”—is the Greek word dynamis, which means power, might, strength. Each was given according to their ability, their power. The person who received the one talent was given according to their power. If any one of us was employed by someone as harsh and unethical as this, with very little power of our own, we would probably do the same thing.



In the inclusive language version of this parable, master and servant have been replaced with landowner and worker. I’ll use landowner and worker in a bit, but for now let’s go with master and servant. Traditionally the master has been interpreted as God or as the second coming of Jesus. The master is generous—check. The master rewards faithfulness—check. The master invites these servants into abundance and joy—check. But according to one servant, the master is also harsh and reaps profits where he did not invest and takes credit where he did not plant the seed and thus, inciting fear in those who serve him. The master then punishes the one with the least by casting them out. This hardly sounds like the God of justice and mercy but more like a ruthless businessman with a reality TV show.



This story could just as easily be called the parable of extreme wealth. A talent is a weight measurement of silver, worth about 6,000 denarii, the equivalent worth of approximately 16 years of day labor, about $4,000 in today’s money—tens of thousands more if we adjust for inflation. Five times that sum would an eye-popping amount of money for Jesus’ listeners. For these servants to bring back returns on such sums would signify only one thing: that these returns were achieved by dishonest means: extortion, exploitation, fraud, or moneylending, all of which were prohibited by the laws of Moses, even investing with bankers to receive interest.



Not only that, the Greek word for servant or worker translates more accurately as slave. Those enslaved by the Roman Empire had no ownership rights, just as in the establishing of this nation, freedom was equated with property ownership. These enslaved people were handling the kind of wealth that they could never dream of. The bottom 50% of this country owns 2.5% of the wealth. The top 1% owns 31%.



So when I hear this parable as about a landowner and workers, I also hear a land developer who builds housing that outprices the very workers who assist the landowner in acquiring even more wealth. Two of the workers buy into this prosperity gospel, get lucky with this multi-level marketing scam, buy their own hotels in the neighborhood of Boardwalk and Park Place. But the third worker, the one with the least power, the one entrusted with the least, which is still a lot of capital, doesn’t buy into this but also just buries it in the ground. Which was a thing people did back then to keep money safe.



And yet risk is what faith is all about. In that third worker I hear my own impoverished response to the gospel. The times I have not been willing to risk not only my privilege but my power; when I allow fear to rule my heart and my head. My own resistance to change and the self-imposed restraints that I have grown accustomed to and keep me comfortable where I am. I give and I think I am generous, but I lose not one inch of my power. Once again, the spiritual challenge of our time: we want the world to change and we want to keep what we have.



What if the kin-dom of heaven was like a land developer who worked with faith communities to build affordable housing? There are churches across the country that have closed and the property sold to land developers only to have them build market-priced housing. And yet what about active churches who have that one talent, keeping it safe for their own use? In many places, churches are both the landowner and the third worker.



The United States has a shortfall of 3.79 million housing units. No matter how many times a city clears away tents, those who are unhoused still cannot pay rent. In recent years there has been a developing movement of active churches turning their buildings into affordable housing with church on the first floor, working with a non-profit that provides much-needed services to residents. It’s a different kind of collective stewardship, one that invites community partners to join not just in the church’s mission but for the whole community to be in service to the underserved and those experiencing community instability.



Today is Pledge Sunday at the New Ark. So why am I talking about affordable housing? What if we decided to have conversation about joining this movement of church becoming affordable housing? Collectively we are that one talent, that one worker, and we have options before us, none of which are small things. Being Church in these times requires hope and courage on a good day. And let me just name it honestly, we are tired. The last few years have been hard on all of us, and yet I think we have done brilliantly. Not perfectly, not easily, but more importantly, we have done so lovingly, thoughtfully, faithfully. This church has done amazing and generous things in its 44 years. Have we got strength inside us for yet another one of God’s dreams?



Let’s pray on it, think about it, talk about it, Church. There is joy to be had.

Benediction

Our lives and our life together—
all that we are and all that we have
—is not ours to possess,
for it is a trust from God.
It is a loan from the sacred mystery of life,
not to be kept safely
but to work with as best as we can,
according to our ability and power.
May the Holy One give us the courage
to continue to serve the homeless and the unhoused
with all that is in us,
Following the way of the one who had no place to lay his head,

Amen.