A talent in the ancient world was a huge sum of money. I suppose in our terms it would be worth millions, maybe even billions of pounds.
And that’s appropriate for the parable, because in the Christian life the Lord endows all of us with gifts beyond value. These gifts are worth infinitely more than any money whatever. Baptism first. By our baptism we are given a share in the divine life. All the fruits of Christ’s saving work are conferred on us. We truly become children of God, and are invited to live in loving friendship with Him. Then with confirmation we are sealed with the Holy Spirit. In the Holy Eucharist we receive Jesus Himself: Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity. These gifts are handed over to us, entrusted to us, to be used, and lived, so that they bear fruits of holiness, for the Kingdom. We receive from God other supernatural gifts as well: faith, hope and charity; the inspired Scriptures; the revealed and defined truths of Christian doctrine; an abundance of particular charisms, in all their richness and variety. Then in addition: all our natural gifts also have been received in trust from God. There is our life itself, our family, our place, our friends, our mind and body, our abilities, our acquired knowledge, and so much else we have and use and enjoy.
Like the man in the parable, having given us all these things, the Lord seems to go away, and leave us to get on with our life alone. That is, after he ascended into heaven, we no longer see him or hear him in the way the Apostles did before. And he forces the will of none of us. But of course he remains always present to us, by his universal presence, and by the Holy Spirit, and by particular grace. Still: we are the ones who have to make good use of what we have received: all those priceless talents, those gifts, those graces, those powers. We have the responsibility, under grace, to shape our own lives; to make ourselves the persons we should become; to conform ourselves ever more to the pattern of Christ. This is the mystery and the drama of the interaction between grace and free will; between gift and merit. As for our virtues or gifts or abilities: the more we exercise them, the more they grow. This applies in both the natural and in the supernatural spheres. Conversely, the less we exercise such powers, the less we are able to use them, until they gradually diminish, and even atrophy entirely.
According to the parable, one man received five talents, the other two, the other one. God gives his gifts as he pleases; different ones to different people; to one more, to another less. St. Paul remarks how silly it is to compare differing gifts (cf. e.g. 1 Cor 12). They are not commensurable. All we know is that we must make use of what we have received. We might think of those who have five talents as, for example, intellectual geniuses, or important public figures, or founders of Orders, or maybe fathers or mothers of large families. Or perhaps they could be those with a special gift of heroic suffering: maybe having to endure severe pain or debility or grief without mitigation or consolation through long years. Or maybe they are the holy martyrs, who receive the great grace of being able to pour out their blood for Christ. As for those who received two talents: maybe they are Christians whose lives seem outwardly merely ordinary; or maybe they came to the Faith late in life; or perhaps they died young, having achieved apparently little or nothing. But who is to say whether their apparently more modest talents might not have been of outstanding value, and yielded very wonderful fruit? Anyway: these people hear identical words of congratulation and invitation: Enter into the joy of your Lord. This reward is of course out of all proportion; however much the person may have merited or suffered in this life. Because here we are given eternal heavenly joy: infinitely beyond what anyone could ever deserve. Yet this is what is promised to us all: but in some measure it will correspond to how we have prepared ourselves to receive it.
Meanwhile, the last man received only one talent. In St. Luke’s Gospel we read of a poor widow who put only one tiny coin into the treasury. It didn’t seem much, but it had very special value in the eyes of God. Or we read of Mary, the sister of Martha, who seemed to do nothing, but in fact chose the one thing necessary. Maybe then this single talent was accompanied by no outstanding achievements or gifts to boast of. Nevertheless, it was enough, and more than enough. But the man in the parable buried what he received in the ground. Let us say, he was baptised, and confirmed, but he didn’t bother going to Mass much. He developed no habits of prayer. He never read his Bible, nor did he ever stand up to bear witness for Christ. Without ever quite renouncing his faith, effectively he lived like a pagan. Silly idiot! It’s not just that he contributed nothing to the building up of the Kingdom, as he should have done. What is so sad is that he himself was the loser in every way. His life could have been rich, but was actually poor. He could have grown constantly in intimacy with God, and union with Christ, but by the end he had landed up far distant from God, and heading resolutely in the opposite direction. Then he died. Ass!
What we hear next in the parable are words fit to make the blood freeze. Throw him into the outer darkness. These words are designed to shock, and they do shock. Without in any way seeking to diminish their force, please allow me at least to point out here that Jesus came precisely to save us from the outer darkness. He will indeed be our Judge on the Last Day, but we understand what sort of Judge he will be when we look at him in his Passion. There he himself was falsely accused, led before a corrupt Judge, mocked, condemned and horribly killed. This must be especially consoling for those who look back on their life with dismay, and begin to be afraid, since they have done so little with the gifts they were given. On that basis, they would be right to be afraid. So they don’t even attempt to trust in their own good deeds. Instead they put all their trust in the Lord of mercy, begging only for the mercy he longs to give.
This is my blood, said Jesus, poured out for the forgiveness of sins. Lord, may your precious blood wash away all my own sins, failures, negligences. Through this Mass, establish and strengthen in me the gifts of your Kingdom, and the grace I need to use them well. Then at last may even I also be counted as one of your servants, ready and eager to join you forever in heaven.