Courage and the Kingdom

A Meditation on Fear and the Parable of the Talents

A while ago, I was talking with a friend who drew my attention to this verse in Revelation 21:8: “But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the detestable, as for murderers, the sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.” I must have read that verse a hundred times, but never noticed that word “cowards” in that laundry list of sinners excluded from the Kingdom and destined to die permanently. Rereading it struck me powerfully because I consider myself a bit of a coward (or at least painfully timid in many ways), and fear seems to be the dominant emotion of our world in the present era. (Both Soren Kierkegaard and Alexander Solzhenitsyn said courage is the rarest virtue in the modern age, what W.H. Auden called “The Age of Anxiety.”)

Though my tendency to give in to fear causes problems and often leads to sin, I do not fear that cowardliness condemns me to eternal outer darkness and a lake of fire, as Jesus’ righteousness covers me. However, that this list headlines cowardliness alongside such serious wicked deeds as sexual immorality, witchcraft, pagan idol worship, and murder is sobering and deserves careful consideration. In my modern worldview, I treated fearfulness as a weakness, an illness that some were more prone to than others because of their background and biology. I did not consider cowardliness a movement of the will, a choice that resulted in death instead of life, sin instead of virtue. 

What makes cowardice so deadly, and why should we treat it seriously? 

Perhaps the teaching of Jesus on the Kingdom in the well-known parable of the talents in Matthew 25:14–30 will give us more insight into the Revelation 21:8 passage.

Jesus compares the Kingdom of God to a man who, going on a journey, entrusts his money to the care of three servants. The first two servants trade with the amounts given to them and double the principal invested. The last servant dug a hole in the ground and buried the money allotted to him. We don’t find the reason for his behavior until his master returns. The first two servants return their Master’s investment to him, along with interest accrued, and in turn receive praise, reward, and promotion in their responsibilities. When the third servant merely returns the same sum initially given to him, he offers this explanation: “Master, I knew you to be a hard man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you scattered no seed, so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.”¹Matthew 25:24–25

A reader will probably be puzzled by this response at first glance. Jesus had mentioned nothing about the Master’s hardness before, and up to this moment in the story, the Master seemed to be a kind and generous employer. And what is so fearful about someone “reaping where they do not sow”? We might consider the Master’s response equally puzzling: “You wicked and slothful servant! You knew that I reap where I have not sown and gather where I scattered no seed? Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and at my coming I should have received what was my own with interest. So take the talent from him and give it to him who has the ten talents. For to everyone who has will more be given, and he will have an abundance. But from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away. And cast the worthless servant into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”²Matthew 25:26–29

Is the Master overreacting a bit? Granted, the servant did nothing with what he was given, but he didn’t steal it either. The servant was fearful and passive and did what he judged to be the bare minimum, taking the riskless route to guarantee the return of the talent. A bit irresponsible, perhaps. A bit negligent. But it hardly seems like it warranted casting him into outer darkness where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth. However, the Master does not judge it so, calling him wicked and lazy. The Master asks why the servant did not at least put the money in the bank instead of the ground, where there would be at least passive growth—a small sign of life—if the servant did not intend to do any trading himself. The Master’s expectation was reasonable, where even the slightest effort to steward his charge would have been sufficient. 

So often, our fear will lead us to avoidance, bitterness against God, and apathy toward obeying a God who doesn’t need our efforts. We think, “God is sovereign. He is all-powerful. He doesn’t need me to serve Him. He doesn’t need me to take a risk and share the gospel. He doesn’t need me to help the poor and to love the orphan. He doesn’t need me to stand for what is right and defend the voiceless. He doesn’t need me to serve my enemies or sacrifice for my friends. He doesn’t need me to persevere in quiet faithfulness amidst suffering. He can reap where He does not sow—it is impossible to add to His wealth with my poor efforts!” And in a sense, we would be right. God doesn’t need us to do any of those things. He is perfectly capable, in His own power, to do whatever He wills, whether it is miraculously saving a lost people, bringing in a harvest where He hadn’t planted anything, or minting talents out of thin air. What do we have to offer such a powerful master?

Absolutely nothing. 

And yet, this fear of not being able to offer a good enough return to a master who, with the snap of his fingers, could multiply the talents right before our eyes was the root of condemnation for this wicked servant. Firstly, he misjudged his Master’s character, calling him “hard.” He feared the harshness of a stern Master when, in fact, he had a joyful, just, and generous master who gave tasks according to each servant’s capacity and rewarded their efforts with exponentially more than what they contributed. The wicked servant’s false fear led him to his second error: he misjudged his responsibility. Rather than obeying, trying his best, participating in his assigned job, and having faith that his Master correctly assessed his abilities, he threw up his hands and thought, “What if I fail? What if I make a bad investment? What if thieves come and take the talent away from me? What would my harsh Master do to me then? And what does it matter anyway—all my efforts are futile to a master who doesn’t need me to help him.” And so, the servant decided his best course of action to avoid the pitfalls that come with risk and responsibility was to bury his coin. The lack of understanding of who his Master was and what he owed his Master shows the complete breakdown in the relationship, and the Master’s actions echos the sentiment of the bridegroom from the parable of the ten virgins, “Truly I say to you, I do not know you.”³Matthew 25:12, the twin parable to the parable of the talents.

With this lesson from the parable in mind, let us return to our first question: If we treat cowardliness with the same gravity it receives in the scriptures, how do we avoid the slippery slope of fear on a personal level, and how do we combat fear corporately in this age of anxiety? 

The usual day-to-day terrors of life constantly pull at us. What if I let my friends down? What if I don’t measure up at work? What if I fail at parenting? Have I been made a fool of by this politician? What if I lose a loved one? Will I be in pain for the rest of my life? Is my life pleasing to God?

These are deep and (sometimes) justified fears. 

It is natural to experience fear amidst suffering, but the direction the fear drives us can be the difference between life and death. Fear can lead us to hide (“I was ashamed and so I hid.”)⁴See Genesis 3:10. or accuse God (“Teacher, don’t you care that we are perishing?”),⁵See Mark 4:38. or act passively fatalistic (“I knew you were a hard man, reaping where you did not sow, and I was afraid.”),⁶See Matthew 25:24. i.e., faithless cowardice. Or fear can lead us to cling to God (“If I touch even his garments, I will be made well.”)⁷See Mark 5:28. rightly orient our lives (“I have set the Lord always before me; because He is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.”)⁸See Psalm 16:8. and to pray for boldness (“look upon their threats and grant to your servants to continue to speak your word with all boldness, while you stretch out your hand to heal, and signs and wonders are performed through the name of your holy servant Jesus.”).⁹See Acts 4:29-30.¹⁰It is worth noting that the main thrust of the Apostolic prayers recorded in the New Testament does not pray for the relief of persecution or suffering, but for boldness in the face of persecution unto the spread of the gospel.

The only thing that will not be shaken in the coming days is our faithful God, and He is the only stability for people consumed with fear, harassed and helpless before this temporal turmoil. In being anchored to Him and the hope of our resurrection, we appear strangely stable to those standing on shifting sands. Though we have genuine trials and our own crushing fears, we have this advantage: we do not have to carry them by ourselves, we do not have to let them put a wedge between God and us, but we can lay them at the feet of Jesus. 

We can be courageous in the face of fear because we know fear doesn’t have the last word. We can put our present suffering in context, so even if we pray as Jesus did, “Take this cup from me,” we can add, “but not my will but yours be done.”¹¹See Matthew 26:39. It is not an easy way to bear witness to whom we trust in—for Jesus, it meant crucifixion—but it is a powerful opportunity we have right now. We know the character of our Master, and we understand what He has asked of us. For the joy set before us, we can endure the tribulations of this life, knowing that our Good Shepherd has promised us a fearless future, “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”¹²See Luke 12:32.

Footnotes

• 1
  Matthew 25:24–25
• 2
  Matthew 25:26–29
• 3
  Matthew 25:12, the twin parable to the parable of the talents.
• 4
  See Genesis 3:10.
• 5
  See Mark 4:38.
• 6
  See Matthew 25:24.
• 7
  See Mark 5:28.
• 8
  See Psalm 16:8.
• 9
  See Acts 4:29-30.
• 10
  It is worth noting that the main thrust of the Apostolic prayers recorded in the New Testament does not pray for the relief of persecution or suffering, but for boldness in the face of persecution unto the spread of the gospel.
• 11
  See Matthew 26:39.
• 12
  See Luke 12:32.