The guilt of many things is clearly discernible. Nobody questions the character of Sabbath-breaking, profanity, or drunkenness. Avarice, ill-temper, evil-speaking, though less obvious, are evident enough to be weighed by the standard of public opinion, and are readily acknowledged to be sins. Vanity, trifling, and procrastination, cannot easily elude a reckoning, and are pronounced inconsistent with any great measure of excellence.
But there is a sin cleaving to the Lord's people so subtle in its nature, so humble in its guise, so frank in its excuses, that exposure is difficult, and rebuke is often disarmed. What is it? The sin of not doing. Neglected opportunities, unused talents, undone good—these are to be arranged in the great day in the same catalogue with others of a bolder and darker dye. "Inasmuch as ye did it not," is the verdict of the Judge.
The nature of this sin the Lord laid bare in the parable of the talents, spoken to his disciples on Mount Olivet, when by many significant illustrations he was striving to impress upon the little circle the nature of his kingdom on earth—its duties and obligations, its rewards and punishments—from which he was soon personally withdrawn, and which they were to be intrusted to carry forward alone.
Christ delivers his goods to his servants, every one according to their several abilities—some more, some less, special gifts and capacities, natural gifts and endowments, capable of being sanctified to the Lord, and consecrated to his service—for the use or abuse of which, each one must render an account. Every one is thus intrusted with a talent to be used, a work to be done for Christ, and he expects fidelity and diligence in the work.
One came at the reckoning, with his work undone. It was he who had the least to do—so little, that what signified whether it be done, or left undone? at best, the Lord could be hardly honored; at best, it could but add a small increase to his store. Was that excuse sufficient?
"Ah," pleads the unprofitable servant, "taking care of my own soul is a work of such vast concern, how can I busy myself for others? The business of saving others is a hard service; a self-denying service—I am afraid to try; I shall be rebuffed, and frowned upon. But little is mine, and I fear to risk it in the bank of faith. The widow and the fatherless must look to others better able than I. I have no words for counsel; simple and unlettered, what can I do?" Did these cautious and timid excuses suffice? "Thou wicked and slothful servant;" "cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness; there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth." God's gifts cannot be hidden, nor yet returned to him entire; for suffering them to lie idle, is one form of wasting them.
Unused grace will die out in the soul. One of the early fathers says: "As the corn, if left to lie in the barn, is consumed, being devoured of the worm; but if it is brought forth and cast into the field, it is multiplied and renewed again; so also the spiritual word, if it be evermore shut up within the soul, being consumed and eaten into by sloth, envy, and decay, is quickly extinguished; but if, as on a fertile field, it is scattered on the souls of the brethren, the treasure is multiplied to them that receive it, and to him that possessed it."
Hiding one's talent may seem only shrinking sensitiveness, or a harmless inefficiency. It is not, indeed, spending the Master's goods in "riotous living" like the prodigal, or wasting them like the unjust steward, or sinking them in debt like the unmerciful servant—it is only not doing all that might be done, the natural short-coming of a distrustful and fearing spirit. But this is sin. This forfeits all. This wrecks hope. This brings under condemnation. "Thou wicked and slothful servant."
Are there not many interesting and amiable persons in fellowship with the churches, on whom no breath of reproach or censure ever fell, yet who at the last day may awake to this startling upbraiding of the Judge, when neglected opportunities, and unused talents in Christ's service shall weigh down the soul into utter darkness, and drag it from the light and joy of God's presence for ever? Let us all be early warned, and with solemn self-scrutiny ask ourselves, are we doing with diligence and fidelity that portion of the Master's work intrusted to our care? —Ch. Secretary.