Protection and Judgement – Sermon Preached on 15th November 2026 (Second Sunday Before Advent)

Preached at St Mary’s, Potterne and Holy Cross, Seend

Readings – 1 Thessalonians 5.1–11; Matthew 25.14–30

Oil painting of a young man with short dark hair against a dark background, a pale blue cloak draped over one shoulder and his chest partly bare. He holds up a lit lantern in one hand and looks down at a small gold coin in the open palm of the other.

Andrei Mironov, Parable of the Talents (2013).

“…throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be wailing, and gnashing of teeth.”

There are some people we would all be glad to see cast into the outer darkness to wail and gnash their teeth. This week, we saw another high-profile figure sentenced to a lengthy prison term for sexual crimes. Clearly, there were – and probably still are – serious problems with sexual misbehaviour in the entertainment industry. Naturally, we feel revolted at such crimes and want to see those who perpetrated them punished severely.

It’s all very well pointing our fingers at, say, the world of celebrities, but I am aware that, as a clergyman, I am of a profession that has also produced its share of serious sexual criminals. We probably feel even more strongly about such criminals when they are in the Church, especially when they are ordained. Nobody really expects a comedian or a rock star to be a paragon of morality – but when clergy exploit their position to abuse children or adults, we are particularly outraged.

And we’re right to be outraged, right to want justice for their victims, right to want the perpetrators to be severely punished. But we need to be careful not to let that righteous outrage curdle into a self-righteousness that we indulge to fuel the worst aspects of our own character – the side of us that enjoys a bit of cruelty as long as we think the victim deserves it.

Today’s Gospel ends with someone being cast into the outer darkness, but it’s worth noticing who it is. In this rather disturbing parable, the slaves who start with two and five talents respectively invest them wisely and are rewarded, but the slave who starts with one talent simply hides it, fearing that his master might be harsh – perhaps with some justification?

The slave with one talent isn’t a monster. He’s the cautious one who, out of fear, did nothing except protect himself. That’s the uncomfortable heart of the reading.

Now, the word “talent” can throw us in this reading. One talent was about as much silver as a strong man could carry on his own: it was a lot of money! About twenty years’ wages for a day labourer at the time. If we were to calculate twenty years’ wages at today’s national minimum wage, it comes to around half a million pounds. So, the last slave may not have been given as much to invest for his boss as the others, but most of us would still consider that to be a pretty tidy sum. This is a man who has been blessed richly by God, yet he doesn’t even appreciate this, let alone make proper use of it.

Our talents are God’s – we only borrow them. We fail God when we bury them. But we don’t need to worry about trying and failing. The thing that makes the master angry here is that he fails to even try, not even to put the money in the bank, but hides it away where it loses its purchasing power. God has given you gifts – a unique set of gifts, prized by Him even when they are undervalued by the world. Use them to His glory.

Talent doesn’t necessarily mean having the sort of skills that get you your own TV show, or being able to articulate your faith in a way that gets you selected for ordination – we know that talents can come with plenty of faults. Your talents might be to be a good mother, a good listener, a good neighbour, a good pray-er, a good cook and cleaner, a good carer.

I suspect most of us are rather more like the third slave than we would care to admit. We hold back because we’re cautious, or worried about getting it wrong, or about being asked to do more, and we leave it to someone else. That’s what brings judgement here.

Today, as well as being the Second Sunday Before Advent, is Safeguarding Sunday – a day for us to think about how we can be the sort of people who help protect children and vulnerable adults. The third slave’s fearful caution is too often the uncomfortable truth about safeguarding. It has also been too often the case that abuse in churches has carried on because decent people noticed something, didn’t want a fuss and kept quiet, and because institutions protected their reputation. Far better for us to become the sort of people among whom abusers find no opportunities, and who notice and stop them.

I know some people are a little upset to be asked to get a DBS check or to go on training – as if asking them to do that implies they’re the sort of person who would be an abuser. But that’s the wrong way of looking at it. Churches where volunteers and clergy undergo routine checks, receive proper training and are aware of potential warning signs are churches that are less attractive for abusers to target. Safeguarding shouldn’t be something we do just to tick a bureaucratic box somewhere – safeguarding should be an expression of Christian love, of God’s particular love for the most vulnerable.

One gift we should all cultivate is a concern for the most vulnerable, and especially for those who are being mistreated or abused, because then we are close to the heart of God Himself.

And Christ’s parable hints that how we use these gifts will influence how we experience our eternal destiny. In our first reading, Paul reminds us that at some point the Lord will return. We don’t know when. It could be next Wednesday; it could be not for tens of thousands of years. But He will come suddenly. And then we will have to give account of our lives to Jesus Christ. It is far more likely that we will do so at the end of our earthly lives – something that can also come like a thief in the night. Pity those who approach that judgement still taking delight in their abuse of the most vulnerable.

We are called to be children of the light, not of darkness. We are called to put our talents to use to make God’s kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven – a kingdom of justice, peace, and freedom.

And if we have truly lived to share our talents and our love, then we should not fear the Lord’s return. Paul reminds us that God hasn’t destined us for wrath but for salvation. “Therefore encourage one another and build up each other, as you are doing.”

Trust God to judge the wicked as they deserve, seek to protect the most vulnerable from harm, and wait longingly for the Lord’s return, and He will keep you safe in His loving presence for eternity.

Now glory and honour be to the Holy and Undivided Trinity, the Father who made us, the Son who redeemed us, the Spirit who sustains us, this day and forevermore. Amen.

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