In Christ’s time, “talent” had only one meaning.
It was a unit of measurement—specifically, the amount of silver that balanced the scale against a given volume of water.
This was a lot of silver: around 75 pounds.
In terms of monetary value, that was around 20 years’ worth of daily wages.
The metaphor has two parts: on the one hand, talents are a weight, and on the other, a super-abundant wealth.
The first part stresses a powerful force, and the other the generosity of the Giver.
Now, our modern minds might not recognize the powerful force of weight.
Weight for us is an intimidating number, measured by a digital scale and controlled by waistlines, diets, and exercise.
But weight at the time of Christ was seen as a dynamic force.
It was the innate tendency of a thing to go to its proper place.
When you measured out a talent of silver, you were balancing the force of water and its downward thrust to the earth against the silver with its similar drive.
Water sloshes and swishes because its weight drives it to seek equal and level distribution, whereas fire and air rush upward to the place where their weight will come to rest.
Each is driven to its proper place in the cosmic order.
St. Augustine summarizes this ancient view, noting, “The body by its own weight strives towards its own place … Oil poured below water, is raised above the water; water poured upon oil, sinks below the oil.
They are urged by their own weights to seek their own places.
When out of their order, they are restless; restored to order, they are at rest”.[1]
When Christ tells us that we have been entrusted a talent, therefore, he means that he has given us our own weight—a gift that impels us to our rightful place in the divine plan.
What is this gift?
St. Augustine tells us: “Our weight is our love; by it are we carried.
By this Gift, we are inflamed and are borne upwards”.[2]
The talent, the incredibly valuable weight that God has given to us, is a longing in our hearts that drives us to seek him.
Our hearts are restless until they rest in God, and that longing is meant to draw us closer to him.
Spend a few moments in silent prayer.
Ask the Holy Spirit to come into your heart and set it ablaze with longing for God.
Ask him to draw you ever upward and ever inward into the life of God’s fiery love.
- St. Augustine, Confessions, XIV, ch. ix.
- St. Augustine, Confessions, XIV, ch. ix.
