What would you do with P4.5 million?

In today’s Gospel (Matthew 25:14–30), the master confronts the servant who buried his talent by using the servant’s own words: “So you knew that I harvest where I did not plant and gather where I did not scatter?”

The earliest Greek manuscripts didn’t have punctuation marks, which means translators added that question mark later to capture the master’s tone. And they got it right. The master isn’t confirming the servant’s accusation; he is questioning it in disbelief. That minuscule question mark reveals a massive truth: The servant had the wrong idea about his master.

Was the master someone who harvested where he did not plant? Before talents became equated with playing a musical instrument or excelling in a sport, a talent was an amount of money equivalent to twenty years of a day laborer’s wages. In Manila today, a good estimate of a talent would be around P4.5 million. Just think: The master had given the first servant five talents, or P22.5 million; the second servant two talents, or P9 million. How much would the third servant have received? Not pocket change, but a handsome fortune. Was the master someone who gathered where he did not scatter?

The third servant dared to accuse the master of being demanding. I would use other adjectives like trusting, empowering, and generous. How would you describe the master? What you think of God determines how you respond to the mission he gives you. Just as importantly, how you feel he sees you and your work will shape how you live.

Remember what the master said to the first servant: “Well done, my good and faithful servant. Since you were faithful in small matters, I will give you great responsibilities. Come, share your master’s joy.” For the master, P22.5 million was small, peanuts, chicken feed! This was an extravagant master!

But these were also the words the master said to the second servant: “Well done, my good and faithful servant. Since you were faithful in small matters, I will give you great responsibilities. Come, share your master’s joy.”

Considering that the first servant brought in more than twice the profit of the second, the master could have lavished him with more praise: “Amazingly done! You are a top-tier performer!” The master could have been more reserved with the second servant: “Good job! You did OK.” But both were affirmed with the exact same words.

This makes me think that the master wasn’t really interested in bottom-line revenue. Notice that there was no mention of the money earned. He simply said, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” What really mattered wasn’t how successful the servants were, just that they were faithful. As the quote often attributed to Mother Teresa reminds us—both comforting and tempering us in our efforts—“We are called not to be successful, but to be faithful.”

The master’s response holds one more surprise…

“Well done, my good and faithful servant. Since you were faithful in small matters, I will give you great responsibilities. Come, share your master’s joy.” On my more cynical days, if I were either of the first two servants, I would have retorted, “Ummm… instead of more responsibilities, maybe you could just give me some rest?” But that would betray a misunderstanding of what responsibilities are in the Kingdom of God. Maybe there is a bit of the third servant in me still.

Look closely at the master’s words: “… I will give you great responsibilities. Come, share your master’s joy.” He doesn’t separate the two. Greater responsibility isn’t just a heavier workload or an added burden. It is an invitation to partake of and feast on the Lord’s joy.

I know a man who never married, partly because he devoted himself to caring for his aging mother and, later, his aunts. Yet he never speaks of his lot with bitterness. He sees this mission as a privilege and a blessing from God. On a cynical afternoon, I pressed him a bit: “But who will take care of you when you grow old?” He only smiled.

He lives out the Opening Prayer at Mass today: “It is full and lasting happiness to serve with constancy the author of all that is good.”

Your prayer assignment this week:

Spend some time with our First Reading today from Proverbs 31, which tells us of a superwoman. She isn’t just a diversified entrepreneur, but the hands-on CEO (Chief Everything Officer) of her home. Long before it became a buzzword, her household was already excelling in CSR (Corporate Social Responsibility), actively allocating resources to uplift the poor. Her greatest asset is also the reason she is a Darna of a wife: She fears the Lord.

Fearing the Lord here doesn’t mean being scared of the Big Boss—as the third servant was afraid of the master. Fearing the Lord in Wisdom literature means being able to recognize God, where he is, how he is moving, and what he is asking you in response. Fearing the Lord is, in short, knowing God. That is why we can say with the Psalmist today, “Blessed are those who fear the Lord!”

If you have gotten this far into this reflection, you must fear the Lord, and you must already know him. But the challenge is to never stop trying to know him more. Maybe we can imagine God singing to us with the words of Odette Quesada:

I’ve known you for so long
You are a friend of mine
But is this all we ever could be?

Try praying with this song:

 Ask yourself: What am I doing with the talents God has entrusted to me? Can the way I use them draw me into something deeper than just being friends with him? Have a conversation with the Lord. Ask him how he feels about what you are doing with his gifts. May this honest exchange lead you deeper into your relationship with him.