Preached at my field ed site on 21 September 2008. Preached on the Gospel text of Mt 20:1-16 (The laborers in the vineyard - the last will be first and the first will be last).
American statesman and publisher Benjamin Franklin wrote the following advice in his 1757 edition of Poor Richard’s Almanac; “Diligence is the mother of good luck…and God gives all things to industry. Then plow deep while sluggards sleep, and you shall have corn to sell and to keep.”[i] Franklin’s humorous, yet insightful bits of wisdom profoundly shaped the growing English colonies that would one day become the United States of America. These pithy proverbs would form the backbone of what we would today describe as “the American Dream.” Work hard, save your money and then spend your money wisely so that you and your family may enjoy the fruits of your labor. There appears to be an obvious justice at work here: those who work hard get something in return. Those who work harder get more than those who work less. This simple formula for the “American Dream” appears to be shared by those early morning laborers in our Gospel lesson this morning, but Jesus’ parable story highlights a very different form of justice. Jesus presents us with a justice of abundance; a justice of love; a justice full of God’s grace. Like my son’s calculus homework, Jesus’ formula appears to be more complicated for us to imagine.
Several years ago I accepted a job promotion that made it necessary for my family to move from our familiar (and familial) home in New England to the unknown suburbs of Chicago. After careful research and thoughtful consideration, we finally moved to a town that is well known, well respected and highly rated for its schools and services. The town is highly rated because many industrious and successful people live there…and they have worked very hard to achieve this success. Shortly after moving to the town, an interesting experience revealed the diligence of those in our new community. Carol and I were planning to attend our first parade and we had heard in advance of the popularity of these parades. “Arrive early,” we were advised by many of our friends. The night before the parade we happened to be driving through the downtown area and were surprised to see that people had already set out lawn chairs on the side of the road…some 12 hours in advance. The next morning we arrived about 30 minutes prior to the start of the parade, hoping to find some spare patch of land to claim as our own. We slowly made our way down Main Street and finally found an acceptable spot in front of one of the Main Street shops. We would need to stand throughout the parade, but the sidewalk was wide enough to accommodate several rows of people…of which we formed the back row. The parade began to pass by with Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts and marching bands and antique cars. As the various groups marched by, Carol and I moved left and moved right in an effort to peer through the crowd. After several minutes of moving left and moving right in an effort to see the parade, I became more aware of the people in front of me: the comfort of their seats, the ease of their unobstructed view, the apparent value of their early morning arrival on Main Street. And just at that moment, the rain began to fall! Even though the weather forecast had predicted rain; even though the charcoal clouds had threatened rain; even though we were in Chicago in the springtime…the rain was unwanted, unexpected and unfair to the good order and discipline of the neatly arranged crowd.
Unwanted, unexpected and unfair: words that likely resonate with the early morning vineyard laborers in our Gospel lesson this morning. The early morning laborers are industrious folks and are at the right place at the right time for the early arrival of the landowner. For their “hard work” of proper planning, those early morning laborers start their grueling day at 6am and are promised a full day’s pay: one denarius. The laborers who start at 9am, noonday, and 3pm are offered compensation as well, but they are promised to earn only “whatever is right.” The last group work for a mere hour and no talk of compensation is made to these laborers. As the day in the vineyard draws to a close, the laborers are gathered for their pay: “beginning with the last and then going to the first.” As the last laborers and those who have joined throughout the day receive their “full day’s pay,” we might imagine the building excitement of the laborers who have been hired first. Surely, they will receive more than these last ones. We should remember that Matthew’s Gospel account presents lessons where faithful and industrious servants are richly rewarded. The parable continues, “Now when the first came, they thought they would receive more; but each of them also received the usual daily wage. And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner.” (Mt 20:10-11a) Jesus’ story begins to turn upside-down, as a parable should. This once “happy” story of laborers receiving much needed daily wages turns into a group of unhappy people grumbling against the landowner because they “thought they would receive more.” We hear “thought they would receive more” in our text this morning. Some translations say “they supposed” or more strongly “they expected” to receive more. The Greek word “nomi,zw” (nom-id'-zo) can be translated to mean any of these English words and means to assume or suppose a certain outcome is likely based on the customs of the day. Like us, the laborers develop their thoughts, their expectations from their surrounding society. Their simple formula of justice based on hard work is a justice that certainly can be fair, but their understanding is also a justice that can be limiting and narrow in its scope. Jesus tells this parable from his understanding of the abundant and gracious love of his Father. Jesus reveals that God’s justice knows no limits and is anything but narrow in scope.
“So the last will be first, and the first will be last.” (Mt 20:16) Stanley Hauerwas, in his commentary on this parable, addresses the interesting process of paying the laborers at the end of the day. Hauerwas writes, “If [the landowner] had begun paying those hired first they would not have known that all were being paid at the same rate. God’s grace is the grace of truth refusing to hide from us the character of our envy of those whom we think undeserving.”[ii] Hauerwas’ insight of “God’s grace of truth” reveals a critical element of Jesus’ parable story. The truth is revealed as the early morning laborers see that everyone is paid the same. The truth is revealed as the landowner faithfully responds to their grumbling, speaking to one laborer from the crowd, “Friend, I am doing you no wrong.” (Mt 20:13a) The truth is revealed as the simple justice of the hard work of the vineyard is transformed by the grace-filled justice of abundance. God’s grace of truth; God’s grace of truth and love is extended to each of us everyday as we live through the tension between the justice of hard work and the justice of abundant love. God is with us as we struggle between the sometimes narrow justice of the “American Dream” and the wide-open justice of the “Heavenly Dream.”
Unwanted, unexpected and unfair: the rain continued to fall on the parade that morning, but Carol and I never did get wet. Although we were in the last row of parade spectators, we were in the first row of people covered by the store-front awning above. The parade continued; the rain continued; and all the early morning parade watchers got out of their seats and took their position behind us, under the cover of the awning. Before the rain fell, every person sat or stood in accordance to their “first-come-first-serve” position. The crowd was orderly, but stranger did not talk to stranger. However, after the chaotic rain was released on this well ordered crowd; conversations spilled across social boundaries, laughter filled the air as folding chairs dripped with rain water, and strangers took turns standing in the front row as their children proudly marched down the street. The simple justice of hard work had been transformed by the grace-filled justice of abundance. “Grant us, Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things, but to love things heavenly; and even now, while we are placed among things that are passing away, to hold fast to those that shall endure.” (Collect for Proper 20) Amen.
[i] Benjamin Franklin, The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin, Poor Richard’s Almanac and Other Papers (New York: A.L. Burt Company Publishers, 1900), 222.
[ii] Stanley Hauerwas, Matthew (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2006), 177.
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