Proverbs 31:10-13, 19-20, 30-31; 1 Thessalonians 5:1-6; Matthew 25: 14-30
What is it like to be November? It is to be cold and dark and heavy. It is to be night. November, unlike any other month, is a taste of perpetual night. It is so cold, so empty, so bleak. November is a thief of color. It moves across the land, draining red, yellows, oranges, greens from trees, bushes, grass, from yards, fields, hillsides. In its wake, browns, blacks and endless grays stretch to everywhere, bringing shivering, withdrawing, shrinking-back-and-into cold. Even on those days when the sun shines, it is a distant gauze-filtered sun which does not penetrate the night-like cold of November.
To be November is to be the end of things: the end of summer, the end of warmth, the end of running about freely, unburdened by coats, scarves, clump-along boots, and the endless array of mittens. November speaks the end of the year more than does December. This eleventh month brings before us the stark brown dirt of death. November is a somber and dark creature.
"November creatures we are not!" shouts St. Paul. We may walk in the dark of November, BUT we are not Novembers! We may, at times, feel dark and devoid of light, cold and wintry. We are Aprils and Mays and Junes because we are the Beloved of God. We are the people God walks with and claims as God's own. We are the ones on whom God has set His heart. Aprils and Mays and Junes whom God has called into the great adventure of life.
November Sundays in our liturgy are the prime time for sorting through our lives in light of the last things. More precisely, THE last thing: the coming of our magnificently loving God. But this focusing on the end time has much more to do with the present than with the future. The future of our lives is always being realized in our present. God is ever breaking into our lives NOW in order that our future be secured. For the future will be no more and no less than what we are making of our lives now.
The slave of the buried talent in today’s gospel is a walking November, devoid of the color of life. "You who have nothing, even the little you have will be taken away." His loss is not God's fault, not God's doing. November people, afraid to risk, who will not jump into life with a sense of adventure, are faced with a built-in penalty. The enemy is within. Their talent, their personality suffocates. Unable or unwilling to dare, they become more and more isolated and impoverished. They play it safe, hedge their bets, take no chances! And become dull, drab, dreary persons unable to bear life-in fact, shrinking from life.
God doesn't play it safe! God looks the impossible in the face and challenges us to do the same. God lavishly scatters the seeds of talent and grace everywhere, throwing them broadcast, inviting us join in the same game. God, as we have learned from the parables of the past few Sundays, is wildly generous. Generous to being spendthrift. Spendthrift are we to be as well.
Like the slaves in this parable, God has given each one of us his love and many different gifts of grace. He wants us to invest them wisely; he wants us to take risks; he wants us to use the gifts, the talents he has given us - whatever they may be. As we see from the parable, if we fail to live in a loving relationship with God; if we fail to take risks for God and his realm; if we don't use the gifts he gives us, we shall certainly lose them.
I heard a true story recently about a man named Luigi Tarisio who, when he died, was found to possess 246 violins. They represented a lifetime of collecting. They were found stored everywhere throughout his house ~ in the attic, in closets, even in dresser drawers. But none were ever played; they were simply collected. His passionate devotion to the violin had robbed the world of all the music those instruments could have produced."
God does not want his gift of talents to be idle and useless, producing no return. Each of us has some God-given purpose in life with its accompanying ability. Each one of us has to be sure our talent is making music in the great orchestra of daily life.
Joe Garagiola, former major league baseball catcher and TV personality, tells about a time when Stan Musial came to the plate in a critical game. Musial was one of the most talented batters of all time and was at the peak of his career at the time of this particular game. Meanwhile, the pitcher opposing him that day was young and very nervous. Garagiola called for a fastball, but the pitcher shook his head. So Garagiola signaled for a curve, and again, the pitcher shook him off. He then asked for one of the pitcher's specialties, and still the pitcher hesitated. At that point, Garagiola went out to the mound to have a conference with the pitcher. He said, "I've called for every pitch in the book; what do you want to throw?" "Nothing," the pitcher replied in a shaky voice. "I just want to hold on to the ball as long as I can."
That, in essence, is the story of the third servant in the parable Jesus told about the talents. That servant was entrusted with an incredible treasure and his first reaction was to panic and hold onto that which he had been given.
What fears in our lives cause us to horde and hide that which God has given us? Would we rather play it safe and not use our talents than take risks and use them in the service of our Lord and one another? Often we discover, when we're willing to take risks, that our fears prevent us from doing things that we really enjoy doing, once we actually do them. This is true in many areas of our lives.
God does not want extraordinary people who do extraordinary things nearly so much as He wants ordinary people who do ordinary things extraordinarily well. And the challenge that is presented to us in today’s gospel is to ask ourselves how each one of us can use our resources of time and talent and treasure for God. What is that special thing which each of us can do that nobody else in the world can do in quite the same way? Is it to laugh, to smile and share your sense of humor? Is it an ability to encourage and inspire? Is it an ability to pray? Is it a loving tone people hear in your voice? Is it skill in music or art or teaching or managing or any number of other talents? The possibilities are almost limitless. What are those things the Owner of all things has entrusted to you? How have you responded to that trust? How are you doing as a steward of Jesus Christ?"
As we progress through another November in our lives, and as we we approach Thanksgiving, we think in terms of gifts and gratitude and this is good and proper. But do not forget yourself. Take an honest inventory of what God has given you – hard or easy, good or bad – and how industrious you are with it. Don’t look around or away but look within. The kingdom of God is in need of people who are willing to work and live. Faithful in tasks small and large, they become the tools of holiness. Picking up the groceries, paying bills, or calling a friend – these are what God has trusted us with doing. May the Sacrament of the Eucharist – the work of human and Divine hands – give us the strength and peace to gratefully and energetically live as good and faithful servants.
And remember the humorous slogan of God’s workers: "The pay may not great but the pension is out of this world!"
