Have You Buried Your Talents?

Dearest Sister in Christ,

It is with great regard for both your soul and mine that I write to you today. In regard to Ordo Amoris (that is, the proper order of love, with all things rightly considered), I propose the question...

Have you buried your talents?

For after careful consideration and examination of the soul, I have come to the regretful conclusion that I have, in fact, buried my own.

And I confess this to you not to lay my burdens upon you, but perhaps to relate to you, for I know my experience cannot be unique in this regard. My sweet and dear sister, I have utterly neglected my talents, and my unconfessed heart has borne the weight of it all. And as you are a good friend to me, I know that you will remind me that I have recently suffered a tremendous loss. You know that every day has been heavy as I grieve my beloved grandmother's life and passing, and though on the surface that seems good reason to have slowed down in the use of my God-given talents, my heavy heart knows better.

My soul feels burdened with guilt, and my mind does not rest, because though I grieve, the world does not stop spinning. Heaven does not stop. The Church does not stop. Neither should I.

My sadness, my overwhelming and sickening sadness, is not, in fact, reason to give up the work I have been called to do.

And so, after almost two months, and by God's grace, I return to you and to my duties, though I admit it is difficult. Perhaps it is difficult for you too?

During this most difficult time, I find myself continuously reminded of the Parable of the Talents. In case you are unfamiliar with it, the Parable of the Talents is a short story told by Jesus in which three men receive talents, a form of currency, and are sent out. To one servant he gave five talents, to another he gave three, and to the last he gave one.

The first servants were good servants. They went out and doubled their master's talents, and with them the master was well pleased. On the other hand, there was the poor and fearful servant who was given only one talent. That particular servant did not double his return. In fact, he buried his one single talent... out of fear.

The master was not pleased, of course, and he threw that useless servant outside into the darkness, where there is wailing and grinding of teeth.

Horrifying, isn't it?

Well, if you do not think so, my dear friend, I will confess that this parable chills me to my very bones. What if, at the hour of my death, when I am called before Our Lord to give an account of my life and all that I have done, and all that I have failed to do, I am found with buried talents? What if, after trying my very best, I am sent away to Gehenna, the lake of fire, the outermost abyss, because I made the foolish choice to hide what my Lord and Savior entrusted to me?

A frightening thought indeed.

And yet, day after day, the heaviness of grief chipped away at me, my thoughts flooded with sadness that overcame duty. I admit, my love, my grief and my mourning became disordered, the very opposite of Ordo Amoris, which is to me both precious and dear.

But there was a lesson learned, one which I learned in my youth but was starkly reminded of as of late. And that is that God's grace is sufficient. When I am weak, He is strong.

My dear sister, though grief is still with me, it has been alleviated by prayer, heavy and immense prayer accompanied by tear-soaked Bible pages. In my grief and confessions, I found that I am not, and never shall be, alone in my suffering. And though I suffer, I must be brave and push through.

Much like Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane, where He cried out to God the Father in such anguish that He sweat literal blood. Christ did not cower, nor did He bury Himself or His mission. He pressed forward.

Through the pages of Sacred Scripture, I was also reminded of Saint Paul the Apostle who, through chains and as he himself wrote, "a slave of Christ," persevered and continued writing letters though his freedom had been taken from him. Can you imagine the fear, the grief, and the flood of emotions he surely suffered? And yet he pressed forward and did not bury his talents.

So, my dear sister, it is through the sacrament of confession, through prayer, tears, and crying out to the heavenly court, that I admit to you and to myself that just as Saint Paul was an ambassador in chains, I myself am a caged bird who sings.

I have unburied my talents, and with renewed strength I write you this letter of encouragement for those moments when you might find yourself tempted to bury your own talents.

And of course, dearest friend, I have prepared a list of resources that have helped me and which I pray will help you too.

Here they are…

1. Prayer

When you pray to Our Father, He hears you.

Let prayer be your first resort and not your last. Pray at all times and for all things. Pray when you are at your worst, and especially when you feel at your best. Pray for the Holy Spirit to guide you and show you the way in which you should go, and pray for fortitude, one of the four Cardinal Virtues.

My beautiful sister, pray earnestly for fortitude, that virtue which enables us to face difficulties, endure suffering, and persevere in doing what is right regardless of our hardships. There will be days when your strength feels small and your burdens feel great. On those days, cling all the more tightly to prayer and ask Our Lord to strengthen your weary heart.

2. Put on the Armor of God

My sweet friend, it is imperative that we remember that our battle is not with flesh and blood, but rather with those fallen angels who seek the destruction of souls. Therefore, seek out Ephesians 6:10-18 and apply it to your life each and every morning.

Put on the Armor of God.

Gird your loins with truth. Make righteousness your breastplate, and let your feet be made ready with the Gospel of peace. In all circumstances, take up faith as your shield, for faith is the very thing that quenches all the flaming arrows of the evil one.

Put on the helmet of salvation, and let your sword be the Word of God.

Please return to this passage often. Read it prayerfully, meditate upon it, and strive to apply it daily, for the spiritual battle is real and our Lord has not left us defenseless.

3. Pray the Sorrowful Mysteries

The Sorrowful Mysteries are especially fruitful when one finds herself guilty of burying her talents out of fear.

Within these five mysteries we meditate upon the suffering of Christ and the immeasurable good that came from it. We remember that in His agony He did not abandon His mission, nor did He turn away from the path set before Him. Though burdened with sorrow beyond our comprehension, He pressed onward and saw His mission through to completion.

During times of suffering, fear, grief, and reluctance to continue, let us always return to the Sorrowful Mysteries. Let us contemplate Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane, Christ scourged at the pillar, Christ crowned with thorns, Christ carrying His cross, and Christ crucified for the salvation of the world.

In doing so, we are reminded that suffering need not lead us to despair. When united to Christ, even our suffering can become a pathway to holiness.

My dearest friend,

As always, I humbly ask that you pray for me, and I shall, of course, pray for you as well.

And should you feel so inclined, write to me too. I dearly love to hear from you. My letterbox is always open, and in case you have forgotten or misplaced the address, here it is once more:

Ordo.Amoris.Ophelia@gmail.com

Should you wish to receive regular letters from me, be sure to subscribe and leave me your email address on Substack. You will find it linked here.

Many regards, hugs, kisses, and the like!

With love,

Ophelia