Brief synopsis of the readings: Our first reading, from the Old Testament book of Wisdom, comes from a book that Catholics recognize but Jews and Protestants don’t. It’s fairly congratulatory: while this is not obvious from this reading alone, it describes the scene in Exodus where God has told the Israelites (or the “Chosen People”) that they will be liberated because the firstborn of their foes (the Egyptians) will suffer the deaths of their firstborn. The author celebrates because they were rewarded while their adversaries were punished. Luke’s Gospel consists of a long speech from Jesus (that is abridged in some readings). Jesus’ words start with a warning that they should sell what they have because their true treasure consists of God’s love. He then speaks of a servant who is placed in charge while the master travels. The servant does not know when his master returns. If the servant knew the hour his master returns he will prepare. Hearing this reading, Peter asks Jesus if this reading was meant for everyone or just those gathered. Harshly, Jesus tells him a parable about a servant who decides that that the servant uses his time in charge. This servant promotes himself to master and treats the other servants poorly. But when his master returns without warning, his servant is called to account. Jesus concludes this parable by announcing that those who are trusted with much responsibility will be expected to act with great love.
I’ve often wondered what the Israelite slaves thought as they finished their first passover. They knew that by that same time the next night the firstborn of the Egyptians would be dead and they would be on their way to freedom.
Were they elated? Were they already making plans for the rest of their lives in the Promised Land? Or did they look at their own firstborn and feel some survivor’s guilt?
As a brief refresher (for those who haven’t seen the Charlton Heston film The Ten Commandments in a while), the Israelite slaves were told to slaughter and eat a lamb. They were then to smear the lamb’s blood on their doorpost; that was the signal for the Angel of Death to “pass over” their home. Homes without the blood would suffer the death of their firstborn son.
There is a legend that as the Angel of Death passed over the slaves’ homes he whispered “Someday I will be back.” I find that legend compelling because while we don’t think about it, it’s true. Someday the Angel will come for all of us.
OK, I promise this won’t be one of those “fire and brimstone” homilies we all heard as children. Those sermons did nothing but create fear. They told us that God would judge our entire life based the one last (unconfessed) stupid thing we did.
And most people reacted in one of two ways: the first group became overly scrupulous, living in a perpetual state of fear. They are so afraid of doing something wrong that they do nothing at all. I once read about a rabbi who encouraged the members of his synagogue enjoy the sabbath, to spend time with family and neighbors. But he found that some members were so concerned about inadvertently breaking a rule that they spent the entire day on edge and fearful. That fear ran their lives.
But I think most of us go the other way and “play the odds,” and I think that was the point of Jesus’ parable. As is often the case we know nothing of the master or the servant. But we do know that when the master leaves he left one of his servants in charge, and it goes badly from there. We don’t know why this servant decided to abuse his master’s trust: perhaps his master was an evil man and thought it was “his turn.” Perhaps he used this opportunity to settle old scores. Or maybe he thought this would be his only chance at being master and he was going to get everything he could out of it. He certainly didn’t subscribe to the idea of “servant leadership.”
But his decision to “play the odds” also likely gave him a small, constant sense of fear, even if it was the low hum in the background. And this against the backdrop of Jesus saying (once again: “Fear not”). Because while he could wake each morning with a strong belief that his master won’t return that day, he could never be completely certain. And he was probably more fearful at night (the 2nd and 3rd watch). That fear, however low, was always with him.
And that’s too bad, and it’s a feeling many of us know well. We live in a world that finds safety and even profit in creating fear. Particularly those of us who live in the 1st world; we are bombarded by messages that we won’t have enough and that “those people” are taking what we deserve. In 2001 we moved into our present home. I don’t know how many previous occupants lived here but I saw yard signs from four different alarm companies. Fast food commercials rain down on us with the message that hunger is to be avoided at all cost (even though most of us will never experience true hunger).
I like to think that the servant in the parable did see this as his only chance at power and it caused him to misuse it. Ironically if he had used his authority responsibly, he likely would have been given more responsibility.
We all have things we fear we won’t have enough. Sometimes it’s resources, but oftentimes it’s experiences. There’s even an acronym for this: FOMO (fear of missing out). We won’t be able to eat at the cool kids’ table, we’ll miss a trip that everyone else will talk about for a long time. Or we won’t get that promotion unless we cut a few corners and make ourselves look more deserving than we are.
These are all fool’s pursuits. We live our best selves when we honestly believe that whatever we have will be enough. We won’t always get everything we want, and the liberated slaves in our first reading endured 40 years in the desert before they entered the promised land.
Jesus tells us again and again not to fear, and it’s always followed by a promise (“for your Father is pleased to give you the kingdom”). During the course of the 40 years in the desert, many fearful things happened. During our lifetime many fearful things have happened and will happen. But when we drive the fear out with faith, we live better. We live as disciples.