NOTES for Luk 19:20-22

The image of a harsh master who "takes what he did not deposit and reaps what he did not sow" may seem somewhat strange. Indeed, according to the general meaning of the parable, the issue is not a person, but God. But everyone sees God in his own way, usually according to his own spiritual state.

Indeed, even if we confine ourselves only to the text of the parable and keep in mind the image of the master that we see there, one can hardly speak of him as greedy and cruel. Of course, leaving a certain sum to his servants, he hopes for a corresponding profit on his return, but that is the essence of money: it must be in circulation, otherwise the very possession of any more or less large sum loses all meaning.

Of course, there is risk here, but the master is not against those to whom he entrusted his money taking risks. We do not know what the master's reaction would have been to losses from an unsuccessful investment, but his reaction to the refusal to put the entrusted sums into circulation is described in the parable with complete clarity. And as in every parable, the money put into circulation here symbolizes something related to spiritual life. Moreover, one should probably speak not even of money as such, but precisely of the readiness to put it into circulation. Of that dynamic without which money ceases to have meaning.

God gives a person life so that it may exist in constant dynamic movement. Life, in all its manifestations, from the highest and spiritual to the most ordinary and natural, can exist only dynamically. And only a person's openness to the world and trust in God can make this dynamic real. The servant who preferred to hide the money had neither one nor the other. He was sure that the master was giving him the money so that later he would have the opportunity to demand an account from his servant and get his own back. It never occurred to him that benefit from the master's money was possible both for himself and for his master.

He was sure that nothing good at all could be expected from the master. And he received according to his expectations. God gives a person life not in order to find one more occasion to reproach or punish him, but so that this life may grow in him to the fullness that the person can contain. But if a person sees a trap in God's gift, he will find himself in a trap. And it is not God who drives a person there. A person walks into his own trap himself. By his own choice.

When considering the parable of the money entrusted to the servants, both we and the original hearers might ask a question: all right, some of those who put the money to work made a profit, while the servant who did not want to take a risk added nothing to the starting capital. But why does the parable not consider the situation in which a person invests the capital unsuccessfully and suffers a loss? Does that not happen?

Of course it happens; no one is protected from failure when taking a business risk. But what the Heavenly Father has entrusted to us differs from earthly money precisely in that it cannot produce a loss. Our abilities and opportunities differ, so we are not equally able to influence the profit that will result from investing the gifts we have received from Him. Yet success in works that He blesses is certain. That is why the parable does not consider the possibility of bankruptcy as a consequence of enterprise. Avoiding the use of the abilities we have received, however, leads to ruin—and is itself already ruin. For a time, it is possible to emerge from this state of ruin, but we should not delay...

Experience shows that this parable is very difficult even for established Christians. The image of the king, as described in the parable, clearly points, according to the messianic biblical symbolism already familiar to us, to the Most High Judge, and the situation itself is very much like the Last Judgment. But this image itself can evoke nothing but rejection, revulsion, and animal fear: cruel, unloved by the people, greedy... and he confirms all this by his own words and deeds. But is this really so? What is this image in reality, who is its true prototype, and if it is only an image, on whose consciousness is it imprinted?

Let us pay attention to the words: "By your own mouth I will judge you, wicked servant." We must dwell on this for a long time in order to read correctly the words that follow: "You knew that I was a harsh man, taking what I did not deposit, and reaping what I did not sow." When we read these words at an ordinary pace, we usually see in them only confirmation of what we already see: that this king is greedy, that his people do not love him, that he orders those who disagree with him to be killed before his face. All of this fits into one image and hardens in the mind, while the words "by your own mouth" remain truly unnoticed. But if we listen to them, the picture instantly changes radically. This is only one negligent servant's idea of the king, and an idea that did not help him do anything good.

People will say to us: what, then, about the idea held by all the "citizens" who sent an embassy and did not want to have such a king? But that too is only their idea. And finally: but he himself says, "slay them before me." Yet let us think: perhaps this is only an indication of the well-known words of the psalm: The Lord said to my Lord, Sit at My right hand until I make Your enemies a footstool for Your feet (Ps. 109:1), or of the words of another psalm: "I have set My King on Zion, My holy mountain; I will declare the decree: the Lord said to Me, You are My Son; today I have begotten You; ask of Me, and I will give You the nations for Your inheritance and the ends of the earth for Your possession; You shall strike them with a rod of iron; You shall shatter them like a potter's vessel" (Ps. 2:6-9)? Then this is indeed only an indication of the day of Judgment.

In fact, there is a very important point here. What often undermines our faith, what makes us suffer in confusion and doubt? Often we see people who, it would appear, should know God better than anyone saying something that sounds like complete nonsense to us. And this troubles us. But we must not forget that this is only their idea about Him, although at times it appears to us, as when reading this parable, to correspond so obviously to reality. Finally, let us note that we never learn the idea about the king held by some of the people mentioned in the parable. The idea held by the people who simply took the money and earned more. What do they think about the king? We do not know.

If earlier Jesus displeased pious people by associating with tax collectors, that is, tax farmers, and sinners, those who openly did not keep the law, now He crosses every boundary: He enters the house of the chief extortioner and declares forgiveness of sins to him simply because he promised to change his ways. He explains this by saying that Zacchaeus too is, after all, a "son of Abraham." In that language this means that he too is a human being, that God created him for Himself, for life and joy.

In theory, we too know that "man is created for happiness," but for us humanity is still divided into those who have deserved this happiness and those who have not, into the worthy and the unworthy. We ourselves, of course, end up among the "better part"; that is why the Pharisees, like all normal people, "began to grumble" when Christ turned out to be in the house of a "sinful man." The Lord knows how to see a human being in everyone, and this is a skill that should be learned.

Most Christians usually understand the parable of the minas precisely as a parable about minas - perhaps not about money in the strict sense, but certainly as a parable about the gifts God gives a person. About the fact that the talents God gives cannot be left undeveloped: after all, on the day of Judgment one must return everything to Him with a profit. But this is only one, outer side of the situation described by the parable. It also has a deeper layer of meaning. And it is no accident that the Savior uses money as the central image of His parable, money entrusted to different people so that they would put it into circulation. Everyone knows that money must work. It must be in circulation. In constant motion. Otherwise, in one way or another, it loses value.

The value of money is maintained by the dynamics of its circulation. And it is precisely this, paradoxical as it may sound, that makes money most resemble that breath of the Kingdom which we call grace. What they have in common is precisely dynamics. As money can function normally only while in circulation, so the breath of the Kingdom, grace, can exist only in constant movement. A person receives this breath from God freely, but its further existence is determined as much by God as by the person. This is understandable: breathing is a process; it cannot be limited to one inhalation and exhalation. And this process cannot be sustained without human participation.

Meanwhile, a person's spiritual life depends on the intensity of this process. Or, more precisely, this process itself is spiritual life. A person's participation in it gradually turns the participant into a bearer of the breath of the Kingdom, turning his heart into a vessel that contains this breath. And it determines what a person will bring to God on the day of Judgment.

It is no wonder that the one who returned the whole sum to his master without profit lost what had been given to him. He had not changed. He remained the same. There was no merit of his in the breath of the Kingdom that breathed within him: he had received it freely. And he did nothing so that it would touch him in any measure. So that it would in some way change his own life. By the end of the path this man remained just as he had been at the beginning. And he was left with nothing. A sad but fitting outcome.

What is meant by the minas of silver—or talents in another version—in this parable? These are not merely “talents” such as the ability to play the violin or multiply four-digit numbers in one's head. Clearly, they are everything that has been given to us. (And what has not been given to us?) Every good thing that appears in our lives, even occasionally, can serve as suitable currency for acquiring the Kingdom of God. Not that it can be bought, but one can “invest” in it.

Zacchaeus, for example, did not spare his money or his reputation as a respectable “bandit,” as people would say nowadays. Many did not spare their lives or, at least, their comfort and “worldly happiness.” Yet we often begrudge even a smile to a passer-by. We begrudge the strength needed to help those close to us, and the time needed to tear ourselves away from the bustle and think about eternity.

Spiritual stinginess leads to bankruptcy even faster than material stinginess. This is because, first, the return on spiritual transactions is much higher and, second, spiritual valuables cannot be kept as cash—they quickly lose their value. Therefore, the Gospel calls us to put someone else's “funds” into circulation as quickly as possible, especially since we have nothing of our own.