19 November 2025
Investing the King’s Gifts with Courage and Fidelity
In today’s Gospel,
Jesus tells the Parable of the Coins
—a story similar to the Parable of the Talents,
but with one important difference.
In this parable,
everyone receives the same gift.
Each servant is given a single coin,
a mina
—about one hundred days’ wages.
What matters is not how much they received,
but what they did with it.
And this is where the heart of the parable lies:
God gives gifts
not to be admired, hoarded or protected,
but to be invested.
Every one of us has received these same foundational treasures from God:
the gift of life,
the gift of time,
the gift of mammon,
the gift of faith,
the gift of His Word,
the gift of the Sacraments,
the gift of opportunities for love.
These are the “minas” entrusted to each of us equally.
The question is:
What are we doing with them?
Some invest boldly and bear tremendous fruit
—tenfold, fivefold, thirtyfold.
Some give God something,
even if small.
Others—out of fear—wrap the gift in a handkerchief
and return it unused.
Jesus tells this parable precisely to correct a misunderstanding. He was near Jerusalem,
and the people thought the Kingdom of God would appear instantly
—politically, visibly, powerfully.
But Jesus teaches them—and us—that the Kingdom grows as we invest what the King has entrusted to us.
This time on earth is not waiting room time;
it is investing time.
It is the hour to build the Kingdom with the gifts we have received.
We are a part of the building blocks and the process.
Jesus’ original audience would have understood the political backdrop of the parable
—the story of Herod Archelaus,
who went to Rome to receive kingship
and returned to judge those who rejected him.
Jesus uses an image from their history to make a spiritual point:
if we reject the true King,
we spiritually impoverish ourselves.
God does not need to smite us;
those who refuse the King separate themselves from the very source of life.
Hell, as C.S. Lewis says, is simply God allowing people the freedom to say,
“My will be done.”
But Jesus doesn’t want anyone to choose that path.
That’s why He is urging us:
Do not let fear bury the gifts of God.
Do not let anxiety paralyze faith.
Do not let comparison kill your courage.
Then we turn to the first reading
—a very powerful scene in all of Scripture:
the mother and her seven sons,
who prefer torture and death to violating God’s law.
They refuse even the smallest compromise.
What they would normally never eat—pork—they refuse even when threatened with death.
Because they learned to be faithful in small things,
they therefore could be faithful in great trials.
What made their courage so steadfast was not a sudden heroic decision,
but a lifetime of daily fidelity.
And notice their mother.
Instead of collapsing in despair,
she strengthens each son
—reminding them that God is worth everything,
that their true life awaits them,
that the Creator who formed them can raise them up again.
This is spiritual motherhood in its most heroic form
—encouraging others to be faithful at any cost.
In contrast stands the servant in the Gospel who buried his mina. His problem wasn’t lack of ability or lack of resources;
Jesus never criticizes him for that.
His problem was fear.
“I was afraid of you,” he tells the king.
His fear froze him.
His fear led to sloth.
Fear made him bury the very gift that could have multiplied under God’s blessing.
God does not punish us for failing to be successful.
But He does warn us about failing to try.
If we invest God’s gifts
—faith, prayer, the Sacraments, opportunities for charity—
we will bear fruit.
Jesus promises it:
“The one who seeks finds.”
Grace always yields a return.
But we must overcome fear.
We must step out in trust.
The courage of the Maccabean martyrs
and the faithless fear of the third servant
stand before us today like two roads.
This parable asks us:
What are we doing with the King’s gifts?
What fruit will we lay at His feet?
The Kingdom grows when we invest what He has entrusted to us.
May we,
with courage and fidelity,
give Him not a buried coin—
but a life multiplied in love.