A Sermon for the Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 28, Year A)
November 15, 2026
Text: Matthew 25:14-30
Now, O Lord, take my lips, and speak through them. Take our minds, and think through them. Take our hearts, and set them on fire. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Two weeks ago, I had the privilege of attending the ordination of a new priest at the Church of the Nativity in Dothan, Alabama. We celebrated and gave thanks to God as The Rev. Jimmy Holcomb was ordained as the newest priest in the Episcopal Church.
Ya’ll know that I love a good ordination, and this one was no different!
It was a beautiful service.
The Bishop was there. The Nave was filled with Jimmy’s friends and family and parishioners from Nativity. There were several other clergy from around the diocese who were there to support Jimmy in his new life as a priest. The choir sounded heavenly. There was incense and chanting and beautiful music.
It’s what I imagine heaven being like.
The service began with a grand procession with just about any kind of acolyte you could include in the service. The candidate for ordination was presented. I had the pleasure of leading the congregation in the Litany for Ordinations. We had readings from Scripture.
Then the time came for the sermon.
The preacher was actually someone I knew from seminary, and he did a fine job. The sermon included many of the things you would normally expect to hear at an ordination—including a special part at the end called the charge to the ordinand.
The charge is a traditional part of an ordination sermon, and it’s basically a way for the preacher to remind the ordinand of the vows and responsibilities of this new ministry.
So, when that time came, the preacher said to Jimmy: “Please stand.” Jimmy stood up where he was in the pew.
Then the preacher said some words that I won’t soon forget:“Step forward, and become the person God created you to be.”
It was such a special moment.
It took me back to my own ordination and the vows and responsibilities that I took on when I was ordained a priest.
But what I think moved me the most in that moment–other than being reminded of my own ordination–was the fact that those words really aren’t just meant for people who wear a collar.
In some way, all of us are called to step forward in our lives because we’re all members of one Body in Christ. In Baptism, we’re called to step forward and become the people God has created us to be.
We’ve been given a particular calling and purpose in this world.
We’ve been set apart to serve God in Christ.
We’re called to walk in love as Christ taught us, to give of ourselves, and to serve generously.
But that’s not always easy.
Jesus taught us that it wouldn’t always be easy to follow him.
There will be moments when it’s difficult because the ways of the world teach us to care only about ourselves.
Sometimes following Jesus requires us to take risks, to move beyond what’s comfortable or familiar and to trust that God will be with us as we seek to live faithfully into that calling.
And I think that’s very much at the heart of the parable that Jesus tells us in our Gospel lesson this morning.
The parable that we heard a few moments ago from Matthew is traditionally known as the Parable of the Talents.
It’s the second of three parables in Matthew 25 dealing with the coming of God’s Kingdom and the second coming of Christ.
A lot of times, when we think about Jesus’ second coming, we tend to focus on the wrong question.
We tend to get tied up with “when” he’s coming back when the real question we need to be asking ourselves is “how” Jesus will find us when he finally does.
That’s the question Jesus wants us to consider in today’s parable.
At the beginning of the story, a master entrusts his property to three servants before going on a long journey.
The first one receives five talents. The second servant receives two talents, and the last servant receives one talent.
Now, a talent is not what we think of when we normally hear the word “talent.” It’s not a special skill that we have or something we’re really good at.
A talent represents an enormous sum of money—about fifteen years’ worth of wages. So even the third servant, who only received one talent, received a gift that was extremely valuable.
Jesus tells us that the first two servants take what was given to them and immediately put it to work, trading and earning more on top of what the master gave them.
They risk losing the master’s money by investing it in order to gain something in return.
The third servant takes a much different approach.
He buries his talent in the ground.
In ancient Judaism, burying money that was entrusted to you was seen as a way of keeping it safe and could protect you from liability.
So the third servant, who buries his talent in the ground, chooses security over risk. His main concern is protecting himself rather than earning more for the master.
When the master finally returns, the third servant explains why he buried the money rather than investing it.
“I was afraid,” he said.
A lot of times when we read this parable, we think it’s Jesus’ way of saying that God is keeping score or measuring how much good we do or deciding who’s done enough to earn a place in heaven.
But that’s not what Jesus is saying here.
This parable is Jesus’ way of telling us that God really does care about the way we live our lives and the way we use the gifts we’ve been given.
The servant’s failure isn’t that he didn’t earn more money for the master; it’s that he was too scared to do anything with it.
He played it safe.
At the end of the parable, Jesus says that the master cast the third servant into the outer darkness.
It’s not Jesus’ way of saying that we should be afraid of God.
I think the point here is that we should take very seriously our own call to use the gifts we’ve been given for the good of God’s Kingdom.
A life consumed by fear and self-preservation is the exact opposite of the kind of life God wants us to have.
We’re called to use the gifts that God has given us—not to keep them to ourselves or bury them away.
It reminds me of another verse from Matthew where Jesus says, “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”
I do believe that ultimately, when our time on earth has ended, we will be held accountable for the way we lived. But I don’t think it’ll be in the way we often imagine.
I don’t think God is keeping a giant score card up in heaven. I don’t think God will expect us to account for how much good we’ve done or how much bad we’ve done.
No, I think the questions will be a lot simpler.
Did we love others? Or did we only care about ourselves?
Did we share what we were given? Or did we hide it away out of fear?
Did we live in such a way that others came to know God’s love through our words and actions? Or did we live only for ourselves?
Jesus calls us to something greater than simply protecting what we’ve been given. He calls us to step forward in faith, trusting that the gifts given to us are meant to be shared.
And today, during our worship this morning, we have a wonderful example of what that looks like.
In just a few moments, we will admit three new members to the Order of the Daughters of the King.
For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Order, we established a chapter here at St. Mary’s a couple of years ago as a way to encourage the women of our parish to go deeper in their lives of faith and to live out their calling as followers of Jesus.
As part of the admission service this morning, these three women will make vows of prayer, service, and evangelism.
Much like Jimmy at his ordination a couple of weeks ago, they’re stepping forward and publicly accepting the responsibilities of a new ministry and a deeper commitment to following Christ.
And as a symbol of these vows, each of these women will receive the cross of the Order, which they promise to wear every day for the rest of their lives.
Wherever they go, they’ll wear the cross as a public sign of their commitment to Christ and the responsibilities they’ve taken on as a Daughter.
It’s not unlike the collar that I wear as a priest. When I put on my collar and go out into the world, people recognize me as a minister of the Gospel. It’s a visible sign of my calling and the vows I made when I was ordained.
Most Christians, of course, don’t wear a special cross or a collar around their necks to identify them as followers of Jesus.
But that doesn’t mean our Christian identity should be any less visible. Our words and actions are also ways that we make the love of God in Christ known to the world.
The commitments these women are making here today are very similar to the commitments we all make in Baptism.
In our Baptismal Covenant, we promise to proclaim the Good News of God in Christ by word and example.
We promise to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves.
We promise to strive for justice and peace and respect the dignity of every human being.
And we make these promises knowing that we can’t fulfill them on our own. That’s why, after each promise, we say, “I will, with God’s help.”
Stepping forward as followers of Jesus isn’t about being fearless or perfect. It’s about trusting God to give us the strength and guidance we need to live faithfully, even when we’re afraid.
At Jimmy’s ordination a couple of weeks ago, the preacher charged him to step forward and become the person God created him to be.
Today, these four women will also step forward in faith.
But the invitation isn’t just for them.
It’s for all of us.
God has entrusted each of us with something of great value—our very lives and the gifts we’ve been given—not just for our own benefit, but for the sake of the world.
The question we have to ask ourselves is whether or not we’ll have the courage to do something with it.
Will we share what we’ve been given? Or will we hide it away in fear?
And so, I say to each of you today: Step forward and become the person God created you to be.
Amen.
