Similarly, The Rev. Dr. William R. Herzog II sees the third servant a "whistleblower" and suggests that this parable reveals what it is like "when one lives in the outer darkness, far from the centers of power and light, struggling to survive from day to day, weeping and gnashing teeth." (Qtd. from his book, Parables as Subversive Speech, Westminster John Knox Press, 1994, page 168)
Personally, I am profoundly thankful for the insights of Rev. Hwang and Rev. Herzog. Each one departs from the long, well-developed tradition of commentators and preachers who proclaim that the landowner in this parable is like God, who gives us gifts, and if we don’t use them to "turn a profit" … well, the implication is there, though rarely spoken aloud, that we deserve to be punished, that we have indeed dug our own grave. (The New International Version describes the landowner as presenting each servant with "bags of gold" so as to focus the attention of readers on the ruthless economic system that the parable seeks to transform.)
I choose to stand in the interpretive tradition of Hwang and Herzog because the landowner in this parable doesn’t sound at all like God to me. If the voice of God in this parable is understood to come through the mouth of the super-rich owner, I don’t think such a God could be trusted to love all of us—far from it!
But what if the voice of God comes instead through the voice of the condemned servant?: “I knew you were a harsh man—reaping where you did not sow and gathering where you did not scatter seed, so I was afraid.”
I wonder: What if this so-called worthless servant turns out to be God’s messenger? What if sown within the heart of the so-called wicked servant, germinating there in the beautiful darkness of his inner spiritual landscape, are the seeds of a joy more real and deep than we have yet been able to fathom?
It is terrifying to become aware of how vicious life is in a greed-based social system. And yet the third servant is bold to confront the landowner: in effect, he says, “I refuse to give my soul and body to your domination project. I will give you however something much more valuable. I will tell you the truth. You take what does not belong to you. Your wealth is stolen out of the soup bowls of the poor. There can be no joy at your table for me until we sit down and feast together as equals with those who now go hungry.”
This is the moment when something new can happen.
Or not.
The two other servants do not join with the truth-telling one. The owner does not even begin to catch on that there is a divine invitation before him. The prophetic servant opens the possibility—right there in the owner’s house—of a whole new world for all of them, together with their neighbors. But no one is ready to say yes. At least not yet. And most certainly not the owner.
The third servant kneels on the earth and digs. Puts the landowner’s money in the ground. Replaces the dirt with his fingers. Brushes leaves over the top. This prophet who is a servant holds a funeral for the greed system. He digs a grave for the social world as it is and places the symbol of its greed into the earth. And covers it. And stands. And he prays. “Behold, O God, the death of greed. May it come to pass in my lifetime. For a greed system brings spiritual death to all who are caught in it. Greed does not live and breathe with your breath, O God. Greed is nowhere near our deepest calling. Teach us to open our hearts to each other and live.”
This parable seems to nudge us to be too ashamed and scared to identify with the “wayward” servant. Yet if we can gain the courage to move beyond this fear, we can find out how healing and freeing divine love can be.
As Rabbi Jack Riemer describes this human challenge,
"It takes an act of will for us to make a turn. It means breaking with old habits. It means admitting that we have been wrong; and this is never easy.
It means losing face; it means starting all over again; and this is always painful. It means saying: 'I am sorry.'
It means admitting that we have the ability to change; and this is always embarrassing. These things are terribly hard to do. But unless we turn, we will be trapped forever in yesterday's ways."
(Rabbi Riemer's reflections can be found in New Prayer for the High Holy Days, edited by Rabbi Jack Riemer and Rabbi Harold Kushner, 1987.)