Zacchaeus throws a mean party – which should come as no surprise. He’s a
rich man, and he has undoubtedly pulled out all the stops in hosting Jesus in his
home. He is already caught up in a moment (or two) of beneficence, having
declared he will give half his possessions to the poor and restore fourfold
what he has obtained by fraud. Either Zacchaeus is not a bad guy after all or
he is absolutely stinking rich.
Jesus announces that salvation has come to this house, and the guests
respond by kicking the party into high gear. As they do, Jesus takes the
opportunity to teach (notice how Jesus uses every occasion and every setting to
speak truth into our lives – He is always with us, everywhere).
We know this story as the parable of ten minas. It is very similar to
Matthew’s parable of the ten talents. It might be more revealing to refer to it
as the parable of the King on his way to be crowned. It certainly makes it more
applicable to Jesus’ immediate situation and it ties into Jesus’ reasons for
telling it: because He is near Jerusalem (the city of the King) and because the
publicans (like the Pharisees) suppose that the Kingdom of God will appear
immediately.
This is a parable about doing business uniquely designed for this business
crowd. Think of a Kiwanis or Knights of Columbus lunch – cheap paneling on the
walls, chipped linoleum on the floors and rubber chicken on the menu. Put Jesus
at the podium as this month’s guest politician (is this on?) and you’ve got the
scene in mind.
There are extra details here that set this story of the
minas apart from that of the talents. In Matthew, the man is simply going on a
journey. Here, in Luke, he is going to a far
country to be crowned King (presumably of this, his home country). Some of the locals, however, don't want him to be King and are unafraid
to say so – loudly.
The man calls ten of his servants, distributes one mina to each and says,
“Occupy – engage in business until I come.” He creates a level playing field in
order to see who has the native ability and motivation to make something out of
almost nothing (a mina is about $100). He doesn’t explain his reasoning behind
this (he doesn’t have to), but we should remember that he is about to made King
here (and a King needs many different kinds of servants).
“This is stupid,” thinks at least (though probably more than) one servant.
“Why should I even bother? I won’t get much return on just $100. I’m not
feeling this.” At least one (or as many as eight) of the servants wraps the
mina in a hanky and sticks it in a box somewhere.
At least two (or as many as nine) of the servants, however, head off to
sketch their ideas for lemonade stands, cat calendars, desk sets and other
assorted Junior Achievement projects. Why? Because they love their Lord. They
want to do as he has asked, and they desire to please him. Plus, after all,
this guy is about to be King (ya know what I'm sayin’?).
It makes sense here to think of the man as a client or vassal King, similar
to King Herod, who has been invested with authority by an overlord or ruling
authority, such as the Roman Senate.
This extra detail helps to further distance this story from the parable of
the talents, but it’s a non-starter – and that’s what makes it interesting. The
King’s future subjects hate him so much that they send a delegation to picket his
coronation – with apparently no effect. They think they have a say in who will
be King – but they don’t. And just as the citizens cannot choose their King,
the Pharisees cannot choose their Messiah – that’s up to God. It has always been this way, Jesus
hints. Have you not read?
Upon his return, the man – the King – orders that the 10 servants be summoned.
He’s only just returned, and already things have changed. Before he left, he
himself called his servants. Now that he is King, he orders someone else (a
chamberlain perhaps?) to summon the 10 to an audience so he can learn what they
have gained by doing business. The dynamic has officially changed, and a new
order is in place.
The first servant reports huge success: he’s taken his $100 and made $1,000.
“Well done, good servant!” says the King. As his reward, he is promoted – he’s
now a Duke with authority over 10 cities.
The second servant also reports tremendous success: his $100 has been
transformed into $500.
Then another servant steps forward, digs a wadded up used hanky out of his back
pocket and extracts a single mina. “Hey boss, here’s your mina safe and sound. You
know, I told everybody this would happen. Man, you freak me OUT, you know that?
You’re a hard man to work for. You gave me this mina, and now you want it back.
You’re taking what these other guys have made all for yourself – what’s up with
that?”
Clearly, this servant has not gotten the message. Despite being in the same
room and hearing the same instructions as the first two servants, he has a very
different understanding of what was supposed to happen. It’s not hard to
believe he may be one of those citizens who did not want the man to become
King.
The servant doesn’t know it, but he’s suffering from entitlement. He doesn’t
understand that the mina was assigned to him to manage – not given to him to
hoard or spend as he liked. He was given an opportunity to use the mina for
good (he could have given it away) but instead, he stashed it away where it has
had no impact on anyone – until now.
“Take it away from him,” says the King to the bystanders. “Give it to the
Duke.”
“But Lord, he already has 10 minas!” they protest. “Is that fair? Why give
it to him?”
“To everyone who has, more will be given. From those who have not, even what
they have will be taken away.”
A lot has happened in the short time the King has been back. He has judged
his servants. Some have stood, at least one has fallen. But the King is just
getting started. Things are about to get intense.
“Now,” says the Lord, “let’s talk about those enemies who didn’t want me to
be King…”
