“What Is Right” Sermon on Sept 18, 2011
September 18, 2011
Scripture: Matthew 20: 1-16
Jesus said, “For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. After agreeing with the laborers for the usual daily wage, he sent them into his vineyard. When he went out about nine o’clock, he saw others standing idle in the marketplace; and he said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.’ So they went. When he went out again about noon and about three o’clock, he did the same. And about five o’clock he went out and found others standing around; and he said to them, ‘Why are you standing here idle all day?’They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard.’
When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his manager, ‘Call the laborers and give them their pay, beginning with the last and then going to the first.’ When those hired about five o’clock came, each of them received the usual daily wage. 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, saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ But he replied to one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?’So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”
Sermon: What Is Right
by Rev. Doreen Oughton
The story Jesus tells today is one of those snake-like sayings, tricky to pick up in just the right place without being bitten. Now last week I struggled because I was uncomfortable with Jesus’ teaching on forgiveness, worrying that it encouraged victimization. This week I am much more enthusiastic about his message, and the danger is that I seize on this teaching as proof that Jesus had political leanings similar to mine, and run with it, enjoying just a bit of self-righteousness. Oh but I’ve been bit by that before! So I have to remember that I have only a piece of the puzzle of this teaching. I can see others, and will do my best to share them. But each of you also hold pieces of understanding, perspectives, even questions that are important to sorting it out, so please feel free to share at coffee hour after worship.
So let’s dive into the parable. The story is about a landowner who goes out to hire workers for the vineyard. He works out a wage with the people he hires first, earliest in the morning. But he goes back out several times over the course of the day, hiring more workers each time, but never tells them just what he will pay, saying only that he will pay them what is right. At the end of the day he sends his steward out with the pay and is explicit about the order in which they should be paid. Pay the last to come first, he says, and so on, so that the first to come get paid last. So apparently the people ahead of the full-day workers are being vocal about what they received. Maybe they are whooping in joy, never expecting a full day’s pay. Word is getting around about how generous this landowner is, and you can imagine the anticipation building for those full-day workers. Heck, if those half-day workers just ahead of us got paid as much as we were promised, it’s like the wages are being doubled. Maybe our wages are doubled too. Maybe it was like being in the studio audience at the Oprah Winfrey show, having heard about the give-aways she’s done, your imagination running with what might be coming.
They get their pay, and it is just what they agreed to early that morning. So let’s do a quick check on what’s connecting for people here. Of, let’s say, 3 groups- early, mid-day and end day workers, how many identify most with the end-of-day arrivals… how many with mid-day arrivals…. and how many with all-day workers? A lot of people who identify with the all-day workers can also identify with the grumbling they do. I mean it really does not seem fair. Not only that, it seems like a really bad idea. I mean, what kind of motivator is that. Why wouldn’t everyone just hang around all day and then show up at the last hour and get the day’s pay. It really seems to undermine that great Protestant work ethic. If everyone gets the same pay no matter how long or hard they work, then won’t everyone become slackers? From this perspective it seems the landowner did not pay “what is right.” “What is right” would be connected to the value produced, wouldn’t it? And those all-day workers certainly would have harvested more fruit than those last-hour people.
Now others, maybe identifying with the late-comers, don’t hear this story and worry about fairness, but hear it and rejoice at the generosity of this landowner. If they don’t identify with the late-comers personally, they certainly know the late-comers and have compassion for why they might have been late. Maybe someone had a sick child at home and had to wait for a relative to come babysit before heading out to work. Maybe someone is older and weaker, not the top pick for someone looking for good workers. Maybe someone got knocked into a ditch on the way to work, and had to climb out. People can understand all kinds of good reasons why the late-comers are late, and can imagine how worried they must be, not having a chance to earn a day’s pay. The wages for a full-day could feed a family, but with less, some would go hungry. The landowner was making sure that everybody had enough to feed their families, and nobody needed more than that. Perhaps he did pay what was right after all.
Now I’m guessing that I am not the only person who can understand both sides of this. I’m not the only one who has felt a little cheated when someone who didn’t work has hard, didn’t sacrifice as much, got the same as I did. It felt like they got something better. And I’m also not the only one who has rejoiced at some unexpected blessing, who has felt truly graced when I got more than I expected, or even rejoiced at someone else’s surprise blessing, someone who just really needed a break. I’m going to ask you all to look into your hearts and find examples of both these things. The deacons will pass out cards, two to each person, and pens if you need one. On one card, write down some resentment, some grudge you hold in your heart, something in which you feel short-changed, or which you envy. I encourage you to be honest. On the other card, write down some blessing, some area of abundance, something for which you are grateful, in their own lives or, just as importantly, in the life of someone else. (pause)….
Now hold a card in each hand. Physically, the two cards weigh the same. Yet spiritually, existentially, one of those cards is weighing you down, like chains secured to an anchor wrapped around your hearts, while the other is light as a feather. I’m going to ask the deacons to go around now with these offering plates, and I ask you to choose one card to take home as a reminder, and give the other one away by putting it in the plate. Later, I will pray over the ones you give away before getting rid of them. You can’t keep both. You make a choice. You really can’t experience resentment and gratitude at the same time. …. I know that you won’t always remain true to the choice, but perhaps this exercise can help you stay more true, can remind you at least, that the choice is yours.
So Jesus told this story about work and wages. Does anyone know why he told it?… Do you think some landowner came to him and asked how much to pay the workers? Do you think some hardworking laborer came and asked whether it was fair he got the same wage as a late-comer? No, Jesus was expounding on his answer to the rich young man who had asked him how to obtain eternal life. First he told the man to sell everything and give it to the poor, then when the man “went away grieving” Jesus continued to talk to the disciples about how hard it is for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven. He is making the point to them that attachment to wealth is a spiritual barrier. He is answering a spiritual question. And in trying to describe the kingdom to his disciples, he uses human categories and analogies. It’s “like” this; and it’s “like” that. No single parable—not even all the parables—can paint a full and clear picture of the kindom for us, but we can learn something about it if we listen carefully.
Since the parable is about the nature of God’s kindom, it’s not right to push the analogy too far. It won’t quite fit into what we already know, or think we know, about “the way the world works.” It’s really about God’s graciousness to us. In our world, landowners seek workers because they need their crops harvested. But I don’t think God necessarily needs us to “work” the land, whether literally or spiritually through evangelizing. God doesn’t “need” us to believe or worship or go to church or anything. God loves us and wants the best life possible for us, for all of us, because of that love, not because of the work we can do. God knows it is good for us to have a purpose, to contribute, to feel part of something larger, whether we are at it all day, or just in the last hour.
This is really a parable about human value. The temptation is to relativize human value. The full-day workers don’t actually complain to the landowner that they were cheated, but instead say “you have made those latecomers equal to us.” The anger is about the declaration the landowner makes in his wage distribution that all the workers are of equal value to him. None can claim superiority, none have their sense of self-righteousness coddled. There is no reward of pride or vanity in the kindom of heaven. No one can hold onto the illusion of having more value to God. I wonder if it’s possible to let go of that illusion here in this earthly life. Perhaps by doing so, we bring the kindom a little closer to us all. And maybe by doing so, we fit another piece of the puzzle about how the last can be first and the first can be last. When it’s all the same, there is no first, no last. It’s not a line or a stepladder, but a circle of Divine love. May it be so.
