Is "Playing it Safe" Safe?
Matthew 25:14-30
by Jim Westmoreland
How many of us have had to make a decision? We thought about it, and we saw
lots of risks, or it was going to require us to do something, and we played it
"safe." And, later, we looked back and knew that we had played it "too
safe." Most of the time, playing it safe is seen as a mark of maturity. Young people
and young adults have no fears. They see themselves as invincible. In our younger years we
flew off "half-cocked" both for and against things. But somewhere along the way,
we learned to slow down, to think things through, to examine both sides, and to "play
it safe." But, "playing it safe is not always the safe thing to do,"
according to our parable this morning from Matthew 25.
Our scripture this morning is often referred to as the Parable of the Talents.
Jesus frequently used parables as he taught. Close to one-third of his teaching involved
the use of parables. They all involve the language and literary device of comparison.
Something known is compared to something unknown in order to give understanding to what is
unknown. The parables were drawn from everyday life. They were not about religious
subjects, but used what was familiar to provide spiritual insights. Most are fairly short
in length, but some are longer, like our Parable of the Talents today.
The parables embody metaphors and similes, but they are never removed from reality and
never convey fictitious ideas. They are stories taken from the world in which Jesus lived
and are told for the purpose of relating spiritual truth."--Simon
Kistemaker, "Parables of Jesus," in Evangelical Dictionary of Theology, ed.
Walter A. Elwell (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1984), 824. Since all of
Jesus' teaching was designed to illicit a response, especially the parables, we might say
that the parables were told for the purpose of relating spiritual truth and calling for
some form of commitment. They were designed to move the will as well as inform the head.
This parable takes place toward the end of a long section talking about the signs of
Christ's return. Matthew begins this section at the beginning of chapter 24. Jesus has
come out of the Temple and has gone to the Mt. of Olives. He is sitting there when the
disciples come to him and say, "Tell us, when will these things be, and what will be
the sign of Your coming and of the end of the age?" (v.3). Then Jesus tells several
parables. The Son of Man will come like lightening; like the early buds of Spring on a fig
tree; like the master who returns unexpectedly to see who is working; like the bridgegroom
who comes for the maidens of the wedding party to light his way with their lamps. In all
of these parables there is a common thread tying them all together--No one knows the
day or the hour when the Son of Man shall return. Mat. 25:36 says, "no one
knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father alone."
As we examine this Parable of the Talents, we see the spotlight falls on the
third character in the story--that is, on the servant who did nothing with his money.
Literarily, this is called the rule or principle of "end stress." The principle
of "end stress" tells us that what comes at the end of a parable is often very
significant to the meaning of the parable as a whole; it provides a lens through which to
correctly view the parable. The "punch" is at the end.
Jesus once told a story about a wealthy landowner who was preparing for a long journey. He
called his three servants and divided his money between them, each according to their
ability. To one servant he gave five talents, meaning a sum of money, to a second two, and
to a third one talent.
Why is life like that? I don't know. We are all equal in the eyes of God. We are all
guaranteed equal rights under the Constitution. In an election our votes are all equal.
But when it comes to our abilities, we are as different as different can be. God simply
did not make us all the same. There are some people who can handle five talents, there are
some who can handle only one. There are some persons who have great intellectual
capabilities, and some who do not. There are some who have the ability to project and
articulate their thoughts, and there are some who cannot. There are some who have physical
prowess and attractive looks, and there are some who do not.
The important thing to remember is that each servant was given something. No one
was left idle. You may not be a five talent person, but you have some talent. We
all do. And you know something. I think that there are a whole lot more one and two talent
people in this world than there are five talent people. Oh, there are some people who seem
to have it all, I won't deny that. But most of us are just one or two talent servants.
Why do we fear to step up and use our one or two talents? Why did the man in Jesus parable
choose to do nothing with the one small sum he had been given? As I look at this passage
and ask that question, not only for the third servant, but also for me, here are some
things that come to mind.
Why did he bury his talent in the ground and do nothing? Perhaps he feared failure. How
many of us talk to ourselves? Do you ever hear yourself saying things like: I can't do
anything right. Everything I try to do I mess up. Poor me. That's why I don't ever try to
do anything! And, we think we are "playing it safe."
Why did he bury his talent in the ground and do nothing? Maybe he played the game "if
only." If only I had been given the talent of these other two men, then I would have
done something.
A thirty-eight-year-old scrubwoman would go to the movies and sigh, "If only I had
her looks." She would listen to a singer and moan, "If only I had her
voice." Then one day someone gave her a copy of the book, The Magic of Believing. She
stopped comparing herself with actresses and singers. She stopped crying about what she
didn't have and started concentrating on what she did have. She took inventory of herself
and remembered that in high school she had a reputation for being the funniest girl
around. She began to turn her liabilities into assets. When she was at the top of her
career Phyllis Diller made over $1 million a year. She wasn't good-looking and she had a
scratchy voice, but she could make people laugh.--Rick Warren,
"Making Your Life Count for Eternity"
Henry P. Crowell contracted tuberculosis when a boy and couldn't go to school. He could
have played "if only," but he didn't. After hearing a sermon by Dwight L. Moody,
young Crowell prayed, "I can't be a preacher, but I can be a good businessman. God,
if you will let me make money, I will use it in your service."
Under the doctor's advice Crowell worked outdoors for seven years and regained his health.
He then bought the little run-down Quaker Mill at Ravanna, Ohio. Within ten years Quaker
Oats was a household word to millions. Henry P. Crowell faithfully gave 60 to 70 percent
of his income to God's causes, having advanced from an initial 10 percent.--Brett
Blair, www.eSermons.com, 2002. "If only" is never a
good reason to bury your talents and "play it safe!"
Why did this third servant bury his talent in the ground and do nothing? Perhaps, he chose
to keep for himself what was meant to be multiplied for others. Some have called this
third servant a "barren rascal." Sometimes, we put all the emphases on the first
two servants who multiplied what they had. We're more comfortable with their success, but,
it must be noted, they are only there as foils for the one who did nothing. Who was this
"slothful and wicked servant" whose caution amounted to a breach of trust? One
answer is that he typified the pious Pharisee who hoarded the light that God gave him (the
Law) and kept for himself what was meant for mankind. Such a policy of selfish exclusivism
yields God no interest on his capital; it is the same as defrauding Him and must incur His
judgment. And the time for settling accounts is approaching. --Archibald
M. Hunter, Interpreting the Parables. Playing it
"safe" is not always the safe thing to do.
All of these may be sound reasons but more than likely he did nothing because he thought
his one little talent wouldn't make a difference. How many times do we sit at home, or not
volunteer, or sit quietly thinking, "What I do doesn't really matter."
Sir Michael Costa, the celebrated conductor, was holding a rehearsal. As the mighty chorus
rang out, accompanied by scores of instruments, the piccolo player--a little pint-sized
flute--thinking perhaps that his contribution would not be missed amid so much music,
stopped playing.
Suddenly, the great leader stopped and cried out, "Where is the piccolo?" The
sound of that one small instrument was necessary to the harmony, and the Master Conductor
missed it when it dropped out. Do you see the point? To the Conductor there are no
insignificant instruments in an orchestra. Sometimes the smallest and seemingly least
important one can make the greatest contribution and even if it doesn't seem to make that
big a difference to the audience at large, THE CONDUCTOR KNOWS IT right away!
In the Church the players and the instruments are diverse--different sizes, different
shapes, different notes, different roles to play. But like the piccolo player in Sir
Michael's orchestra, we, in our own "knowledge of the world," decide that our
contribution is not significant. Our contribution couldn't possibly make a difference. And
so we quit playing. Stop doing that which we 've been given to do. We drop out. But the
Conductor immediately notices. From our perspective, our contribution may be small, but
from His, it is crucial.
I just have to believe I'm talking to some piccolo players this morning, who have dropped
out of the orchestra, for whatever reasons: pain, exhaustion, insecurity, criticism,
laziness, misbehavior. Convinced that your contribution doesn't mean a hill of beans in
the bigger scheme of things. We have buried our talent in the ground. --Adapted
from Richard Love, Sermon: Blowing Your Horn, Memphis: Sermon Illustrations, 1999.
And we discover that "playing it safe" isn't safe at all!
For all who bury their talent because the fear failure, who bury their talent because they
compare themselves to others, who bury their talent because they keep it for themselves,
or who bury their talent because they think what they do doesn't matter. To all of us who
become piccolos who won't play, or at least aren't playing, Jesus has something to say,
"Cast out the worthless slave into outer darkness." And, too late, we
discover that "playing it safe" isn't safe at all!