There’s a story Jesus tells about a man who goes on an extended journey and leaves a sum of money for each of three servants to tend in his absence. Two of the servants double the investment. The third sticks the money in a hole—the ancient equivalent of a zero percent interest checking account. At the end of the story, the first two are praised and entrusted with more, while the third servant is rebuked for making pretty much the worst possible choice (Matthew 25:14-30).
This story haunts me for one simple reason—I’m truly afraid I’d be the guy digging a hole in the backyard at midnight. Every time I read the story, my first thought is, “How the heck did those guys know they could double their employer’s money and not just lose it completely on bad bet?”
Hint: they didn’t.
In the law of ancient Israel, God famously institutes a fiscal policy called the tithe. One-tenth of the produce of the field or fruit trees “belongs to the Lord” (Lev. 27:30). Every tenth animal tended by the shepherd is to be considered “holy to the Lord” and set apart as an offering (Lev. 27:31-33). Reading the tithing laws recently, it occurred to me how different this language is from how most of us today talk and think about giving. We ask ourselves, “How much of my money should I give or share?” Leviticus simply says, “That part is God’s, not yours.”
Bringing these laws into conversation with Jesus is tricky. On the one hand, Jesus never explicitly teaches tithing as a standard and criticizes religious institutions who fleece the poor of their last dollar to put up a nicer building. On the other hand, Jesus’s own teachings on money are generally far more radical than Leviticus dreamed. “You’re lacking one thing,” Jesus says to a rich man. “Sell what you have, and give the money to the poor. Then come follow me” (Mark 10:21). Jesus’s teachings do not contradict Leviticus but amplify and extend the point—100% of what you have is God’s, not yours.
All this suggests that “What should I give or share?” is too small a question for a Jesus follower. Everything in my home, in my bank account, is on loan from God. The actual question is, “How would the true owner of these funds—i.e. God—want them invested?”
This distinction matters a lot, practically speaking.
I am personally risk-adverse when it comes to money. But according to Jesus, God is…not. No one in Jesus’ story gets rebuked for risking and losing. The rebuke goes to the one who risks nothing at all. The owner in Jesus’ story is biased toward action. He also appears to have a high tolerance for risk. He wants his money out there doing something in the world. He wants it to have at least the potential for giving a return. After all, money buried in a hole never grew a bit of kingdom fruit.
A discovery like this doesn’t offer any easy answers for exactly how much to give or save or spend. But I am finding for myself these days that taking Jesus seriously is prompting a set of decisions that I wouldn’t have made otherwise. It’s causing me to question the size of the holes that I am digging. It’s causing me to ask in what fields God may desire to invest in the hope of potential future fruit.
There are no guarantees in investing. But that is my hang-up more than God’s. After all, when the world and everything in it is yours (Psalm 24:1-2), what’s a little risk?
A prayer: God, I confess that digging holes makes me feel more secure. But I also recognize that all I own is not really mine but yours. Deliver me from love of money and the terror of its loss. Give me the wisdom to see how you would invest and the courage to choose it. The world is yours. And I am yours. And I will trust in that.
