“Hear, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest”: A Sermon

The Rev. Dr. Stuart Higginbotham

Zephaniah, I Thessalonians, Matthew 25

November 19, 2023

When it comes to engaging the Scriptural texts, today’s collect, or opening prayer, invites us to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them. 

That sounds all well and good, but if we’re honest, this call to inwardly digest some texts is a challenge. Simply put, some texts go down easier than others, some may give us heartburn, and some may make us outright nauseous. 

Engaging with Scriptural texts is often not an easy practice–if our goal is to feel better or to always have our tightly-held positions reinforced. We may have this image in our minds of “reading the Bible,” or the texts being one of those magic 8-balls, when we can simply shake and look at any verse to find uplifting inspiration or an easy answer to a problem; however, that is not the case. The Bible is a library, not a book, and we have to learn our way around a library over time. We need directions and guidance.

I think back and notice how, in my childhood, the highly-emphasized practice of memorizing certain Bible verses always focused on ones that either made us feel good or ones that reinforced beliefs or orientations we already had. It is curious that we don’t have children memorize the passages about selling all we have or about laying down our lives.

Now, I will be the first to say that I keep certain texts close to me, psalms and others from the prophets and gospels that I use in my prayers as mantras, even, focus points to nurture an awareness of God’s presence in my life. But I must always grapple with the reality that the Bible is a collection of very complex, often inspiring, and sometimes contradicting images that are, somehow, inspired by the Spirit so that we can hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them.

As we look at today’s texts, we see a series of very challenging images as we draw near to the Feast of Christ the King, the close of the Christian tradition’s liturgical cycle before we begin Advent.

In the Zephaniah text, in response to those who deny God’s action in their lives, the prophet says:

Their wealth shall be plundered,
and their houses laid waste.

Though they build houses,
they shall not inhabit them; . . . 

the sound of the day of the Lord is bitter,
the warrior cries aloud there.

That day will be a day of wrath,
a day of distress and anguish,

a day of ruin and devastation,
a day of darkness and gloom . . .

I will bring such distress upon people
that they shall walk like the blind;
because they have sinned against the Lord,

their blood shall be poured out like dust,
and their flesh like dung.

In the Thessalonians reading, St. Paul writes that, when some say “there is peace and security,” then sudden destruction will come upon them, as labor pains come upon a pregnant woman, and there will be no escape! 

St. Paul goes on from there to describe what he imagines the return of the Lord to be like, with the repeated admonition to stay awake, to be prepared. We are strongly cautioned against becoming too comfortable.

Finally, in the Gospel text from Matthew 25, we have the challenging parable of the man who entrusts the talents with the three slaves. Two use and invest the funds to make a profit, and one buries it in the ground out of fear (and a little resentment, it seems, of the owner himself). 

When the master returns, the two who took risks and invested are rewarded, but the one who hid the talent is punished severely. The Master says you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my return I would have received what was my own with interest. So take the talent from him, and give it to the one with the ten talents.

The assigned text ends with this challenging image:

 For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

So, in looking at these texts, we first pay attention to where we are: here at the close of the year when we are exploring how God will eventually bring all things into God’s embrace, into the fullness of God’s own life, through the image of Christ being King. So, there is a teaching in these texts that God is alive and at work in our lives. We would do well to remember that the Spirit of Christ is at work in the world, calling us out of our comfort.

Notice that the Zephaniah text lays out that what the prophet says is a response to those who deny that God is at work in the world. They deny God’s presence and because of that they face consequences: the world they knew is destroyed.

The text from First Thessalonians actually picks up on this theme as well by cautioning the community in Thessalonica to be very alert, to pay attention, so they can notice how God is at work in their lives. Stay awake, St. Paul continually tells them. 

With the Gospel text, what can we learn from this challenging image? Especially with the final lines, there is a provocative challenge:

For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

How do we make sense of this? What is the teaching for us today? If you were to ask me, I would first note that, while the text focuses on the slaves investing talents, which is a denomination of currency or money, the image of money is a powerful metaphor. The point is not just to focus on actual money.

When we bring up the oblations from the back at the Eucharist, the bread and wine and offerings we have given, we place all of them on the altar to be consecrated in the Eucharistic Prayer we all share. These gifts represent us, our whole selves, placed here so that our entire lives can be consecrated–once more–for God’s service. That is the deep meaning behind what we share on Sunday mornings. This entire liturgy, from the hymns to the readings to the prayers to the movement itself around the building–all of this is a symbolic, embodied practice of reconsecration for our entire lives. We should remember that: an embodied practice of reconsecration.

This is how I understand this passage from the Gospel: how are we called to embody God’s presence in our lives, to take risks and have spiritual courage so that our awareness of God’s presence and our participation in God’s movement in the world can grow? How are we tempted at times, out of fear, to take the easy way out and avoid risk and even bury our talents, as it were, in the ground? How do we neglect to share the gifts we have?

Of course I can make a connection with this being the point in the year when we observe what is traditionally known as “stewardship season,” but we must be reminded that this is not just about money. Money is a symbol, a tradent, if you will, that carries meaning. It is the current manifestation of how we share the meaningful fullness of our lives. It is actually more appropriate to call this time of year “Embodiment Season,” so that we can understand the deeper meaning behind what we do. 

Today’s readings are powerful, because they focus our attention on how we live our lives–and on how we understand God’s movement in our world. We have the call to engage the texts, to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, so that our lives can be transformed by the Spirit. Zephaniah teaches us that God is very much alive and at work in the world. St. Paul teaches us that we need to remain vigilant, to stay awake. And St. Matthew teaches us that we are called to live our lives with faithfulness, seeking to understand how we can embody God’s presence in the world. 

In the end, while we may struggle to chew on certain texts, we discover that the texts are always chewing on us.