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Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost

 Matthew 20

9 “The workers who were hired about five in the afternoon came and each received a denarius. 10 So when those came who were hired first, they expected to receive more. But each one of them also received a denarius. 11 When they received it, they began to grumble against the landowner. 12 ‘These who were hired last worked only one hour,’ they said, ‘and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the work and the heat of the day.’

I’m certain my son is not reading this, so I’ll share a story.

The summer Isaac finished high school, he got a job with the school board doing some sort of data entry.  Not a glamorous job, but one with decent pay and regular hours.  The challenges began on day one: “Hey Isaac, you gotta get up, or you’re gonna be late!”  He got up.  Day two: “Hey Isaac, you gotta get up, or you’re gonna be late!” No response.  

Now we’ve on the horns of a dilemma.  Badger the boy until he gets up, which would undermine his new status as an adult, or let him sleep, and allow him to suffer the consequences of this choice.  We chose the latter course, but this comes with it’s own cost: daily anxiety as his departure for work became later and later, and the constant fear that he would lose his job.  Consequences are all fine and dandy, but what happens when the consequences actually appear? 

Finally, we had enough.  It wasn’t on the scale of an intervention, but we finally asked, “how is it that you manage to keep this job?”  

“No problem,” he said, “they only pay me for the hours I’m there.”  

In a weird inversion of the Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard, Isaac was extended the grace of never losing his job, only losing the money that he was supposed to earn.  I can report that a decade later my son has become very diligent, even hard-working, and now complains about the people who roll in after lunch.  

So that’s the weird inversion, what’s the parable?  A couple of things first.  This is a parable, and not a true story.  Parables are short fictional stories that are meant to teach us about the kingdom of God.  They usually have a twist, or a situation that sours, until it is resolved in the kingdom way.  And they usually involve something familiar, something we should understand or can experience firsthand.  Second, this parable (and many of the others) are insider challenges, often directed at the disciples and those in the inner circle.  If you are looking for meaning, the first question should be “how does this relate to what the twelve are doing?”  Or maybe it’s a case of what they are not-doing.  Either way, the twelve (and us, as the extension of the twelve) are the intended audience.  

The parable begins by describing this transaction between day labourers and the vineyard owner.  Come to work and earn the usual amount.  Then the owner returns for additional workers, and sets the terms of employment: “You also go and work in my vineyard,” he says, “and I will pay you whatever is right.”  See how the story-teller is setting this up.  The hours pass, more workers are hired, and then still more, until we reach the end of the day.  The owner tells the manager, “pay the last to arrive before you pay the first.”  And to those who worked just an hour, he gave them the daily wage.  

Here is where this little world sours.  We’ll let Matthew finish the story:

10 So when those came who were hired first, they expected to receive more. But each one of them also received a denarius. 11 When they received it, they began to grumble against the landowner. 12 ‘These who were hired last worked only one hour,’ they said, ‘and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the work and the heat of the day.’

“You have made them equal to us…”

We were here first, we’ve worked the longest, and you have made them equal to us.  The outrage!  Of course, the vineyard owner makes the argument that he was only maintaining the contract set at the beginning of the day, but that won’t wash.  The belief that a bonus should follow is hardwired, and even the most grace-filled person can see how this seems unfair.  An entire day in the hot sun.

Tom Long tells the story of describing the jubilee year, the year the Israelites set aside for complete debt forgiveness, to a class full of conservative seminarians.  These seminarians, looking for ways to interpret the Bible in the most literal way possible, were taken aback by this idea of universal debt-forgiveness.  So they ask, “is there any evidence that this jubilee year ever occurred?  It must be just a metaphor for forgiveness, right?  Right?”

Walter Brueggemann, also quizzed on the topic of the jubilee year, and the historical record, said “the fact that the Israelites could imagine it makes it powerful.  It makes it something for us to long for and perhaps strive for.”  

I share this because the jubilee year is just another version of the Workers in the Vineyard.  In the year of jubilee, debts were forgiven, land was returned to formerly indebted owners, and those in debt-slavery were freed.  If you imagine society collapsing under the weight of all this forgiveness, then you’re likely being too modern in your thinking.  Constant cycles of debt forgiveness would have a dampening effect on the amount of lending, reducing the likelihood of a 2008-style financial crisis.  Still, forgiveness is forgiveness, and you can imagine the society-wide transformation that would follow such a change.

And this might be a place to think about the impact of our parable.  If Bernie Sanders inspired a future president to forgive all student loans, what would be the reaction?  If you had substantial loans, and were suddenly free of them, your life would be pretty sweet.  If you just paid the last installment of your massive debt load, your reaction would be quite different.  Or you paid off your loan years ago.  Or you avoided college altogether because you didn’t want debt.  Everyone will have a different take on forgiveness based on their experience.  Meanwhile, Bernie would say “celebrate with them! This is the first generation of students who can begin their working lives without the burden of debt.”  You have to say it with a Brooklyn accent to make it work.

So whether it’s working in the hot sun all day, or exiting the bank after your last payment, the generous news will be hard to swallow.  Likewise, the disciples—leaving home and family, walking the road with Jesus, sharing the burden of teaching and healing, supporting the growing crowds, or just offering support to the son of the Most High—might be alarmed to learn that they might not spend eternity at the right hand of the throne of glory.  Maybe that spot is reserved for a tax collector, or a thief, or a notorious persecutor.  Maybe all the effort, saving souls in the hot sun all day long, makes you no more or no less than everyone else in the kingdom.  How would you feel? 

In many ways, this is a rubber-hits-the-road kind of parable.  It is very tangible, involving elements that are common and easy to understand.  Jesus wants to disturb us with God’s version of fairness, and remind us that it has very little to do with our sense of fairness.  God’s version of fairness is like the parent who says they love all their children equally—and actually means it.  You are loved, based simply on your identity as a child of God.  Some children want to be the favourite, but that’s not how it words—not in the divine household.  

So there are two sets of implications here, one in heaven and one on earth.  In heaven, we find all the unlikely candidates for glory, but by the time we get there, we may not be so disturbed after all.  I assume in glory we will see through the eyes of glory.  On earth, however, we continue to struggle.  Even the most saintly figure, and perhaps especially the saintly figure, will puzzle over all the grace extended to the least deserving.  We are human after all.  Instead, we need to imagine such grace, such equality, and wonder at the glory of the God who made it possible.  This gives us something to long for, and even strive for, with God’s help, Amen.   

posted by michael jacob kooiman @ 6:20 PM