Doubt the Master at Your Own Risk

The parable of the talents from Matthew tells the story of three servants who receive different, but generous, sums of money from their master. The first servant is given 5 talents (a talent was equal to a year's wage). The second servant is given two talents and the third servant, one. Each servant is given an amount appropriate to his ability so he will not be overwhelmed with a responsibility he's unfit to carry.

The first two servants invest their money and double their return. The third servant, however, is afraid of the master and hides his portion in the ground. Why? What conclusion has he drawn that leads him to think harshly of his master? Does he resent being given less than his fellow servants? Is he simply lazy? Whatever the reason, the servant doubts his master's goodness and does nothing at all

His false assessment of the master's character—that the master is unloving—leads to the servant's downfall.

In 1984 Milos Forman directed the film Amadeus, a stylized portrayal of the relationship between the composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and the Viennese court composer Antonio Salieri. The story is told from Salieri's point of view, whose life goal was to be used as "God's instrument" to make beautiful music. He was content that his prayers had been answered until he met the young prodigy, Mozart, for the first time. Salieri is portrayed as a pious, well-mannered, and conscientious musician of considerable talent. Mozart, on the other hand, is portrayed as brash, vulgar, and arrogant, but with a talent that far exceeds the gift of Salieri. Mozart is a musical genius.

It's worth noting that the film is not titled Mozart or Wolfgang, although both names are more familiar references to the composer than his middle name, Amadeus. In Latin, amadeus means, "one loved by God," which highlights the central conflict and key to the story. In the movie, Salieri accuses God of injustice for giving such extravagant gifts to someone as undeserving as Mozart. His own piety overlooked, Salieri concludes that God is indifferent and unloving.

Salieri has believed a lie that there can be only one amadeus.

Not only does the parable of the talents point to the need for responsible stewardship of all that we're given. On a deeper level, it suggests that our false conclusions about God's character and his posture toward us will inhibit our ability to exercise the gifts we're given.

Elsewhere in Scripture we are warned about anxious overachievement. This parable seems to caution us against fearful failure of stewardship.

Elsewhere in Scripture we are warned against anxious overconcern about our lives. This parable seems to caution us against being lazy and taking the master's goodness for granted.

The film ends powerfully with an aged Salieri rejecting God and claiming for himself the title "patron saint of mediocrities." His final days are spent locked away in an asylum absolving other inmates of their mediocrity.

In Scripture, it doesn't seem to matter how much the individual possesses in terms of talent or wealth. What does matter is that whatever a person possesses can be understood and received as a gift from a lover who has our best interest in mind.

In his essay "What Are People For?" Wendell Berry says, "There is the bad work of pride. There is also the bad work of despair—done poorly out of the failure of hope or vision. Despair is the too-little of responsibility, as pride is the too-much."

I love that thought. It identifies precisely what I think is wrong with the one-talent servant. We can't know what his real hang-up was. We don't know why he is lazy. But he clearly has a "failure of hope or vision."

There isn't only one amadeus. God loves all of us. God wants all of us to have hope and vision. And when we offer our work to his glory, he loves all our work—whether our talent is genius or not.