After a lifetime of indifference to football, when we returned to the Frozen Tundra of WNY, I decided to “go native” and start watching the Bills. As a recently minted viewer of football games on TV, I’ve noticed that if you tune in to the Bills game, in addition to seeing sports commentators wearing loud suits (who dresses them?) you will also see wall-to-wall ads for Sports Duel and Draft Kings as well as lesser-known sports betting apps.
It used to be that placing a bet involved a furtive liaison with the neighborhood bookie or it required a trip to Reno or Vegas. During my lifetime, that all changed. First there was OTB, then Atlantic City casinos, followed by the proliferation of tribal casinos. In the internet age, there’s an app for everything including sports gambling.
Gambling and golf may be the only vices I do not have, but I am not writing to exploit a rare opportunity for self-righteousness. It’s the gospel lesson for Sunday (Matthew 25:14-30) that has me thinking about gambling.
I certainly don’t want to make light of the tragic consequences of problem gambling, but as I read what we usually refer to as the “Parable of the Talents,” it strikes me that God is portrayed as the most daring gambler ever.
Jesus tells a story about a very wealthy man who before departing on a long journey entrusts his property to three slaves. When he returns, he rewards and punishes the slaves based on how they have invested the wealth that was left in their care.
This is one of the parables of judgment that precede the season of Advent.[1] Jesus tells these stories to his followers, urging them (and us) to faithfully persevere, giving ourselves completely to the ministry of love and justice: feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and comforting the sick and imprisoned.
No doubt, that’s the central point of the parable, but before we get to the part of the parable that’s about us, the parable also tells us something about God.
The wealthy master in this story, who represents God, does an amazing thing. The master entrusts the whole of his property to the administration of three slaves! He takes his fortune and places a bet that these three slaves will not squander it but will make him a profit.
Talk about risk-taking to the point of long-shot gambling; God has entrusted to us the mission of the Kingdom!
This is not a tight-fisted, control freak God who is described here. This is a God who has said, in effect, “You all know what I’m looking to do. I’m looking to create a new way of being centered on love and justice. See to that.” And then God leaves the stage indefinitely.
In the parable, the slave who was too timid to risk his share of the master’s property is the one who is judged a failure. God the gambler demands that we risk what we have and what we are, placing a bet with our lives by living for others as Christ did, pouring ourselves out in love and in care for the most vulnerable.
Faith demands we make a bet every day. We are asked to wager that giving and loving and forgiving is going to pay off big time.
Prayer: I can’t believe you’re betting on me to bring about your vision of peace and love. And you want me to gamble too? I don’t even play the lottery and you want me to bet my life? Okay, here I go, trusting (mostly) that this is a sure thing.
[1] The parable of the ten bridesmaids (Mt. 25:1-13) last week, the parable of the talents this week, and next week we end the liturgical year on Christ the King Sunday with the parable of the sheep and goats (Mt. 25:31-46).