“Wages of Grace”
Matthew 20:1-16
It would be pretty easy to use Jesus’ parable of the Laborers in the Vineyard to talk this morning about economic justice. We might even make connections between the parable and the United Auto Workers strike or the Hollywood writers’ strike. We could use the message of the parable to talk about economic inequality and point fingers at the CEOs and other top executives of the Big Three auto companies and the Hollywood movie, television, and streaming studios.
After all, we’ve been talking a lot lately about the material aspects of the Gospel, how the teachings of Jesus and the prophets are not just pretty words to say, not just lofty ideas to believe in. Rather they are meant to be applied our lives; they are descriptions of the realm of God and guidelines for how to partner with God in living them out. Christian values and the spiritual journey are meant to transform us from the inside out and re-make the earthly institutions and systems that so often shape not only how we live but also how we perceive things and understand what is possible.
We could treat this parable as being about nothing more than the just treatment of all workers.
We could go down that road this morning. We could.
But I think most of us are pretty clear about the importance of economic justice and what that would look like, and I don’t think the point of this parable is to make us feel good about our progressive values. And I’m quite sure we should avoid the trap of letting this parable blind us to our own privilege or the sense that, for whatever reason, we deserve more money or status or citizenship or love or happiness than someone else.
We could take a moment to consider who we are in this story and how we fit in. Are we the owner of the vineyard or the manager of the workers? Are we the workers who arrive early to the employment office and eagerly agree to a fair wage for a full day’s work? Or are we the workers whose children were sick or whose cars broke down and didn’t make it to the employment office until midday? Or are we the people who, no matter what time we arrived, had been passed over by one employer after another all day long, maybe because of our race, maybe because we had physical or mental limitations or were somehow different from everyone else?
That’s worth thinking about. I would venture to guess that most of us here would identify with the full-day laborers who got upset that people who worked only an hour were paid just as much. I am reminded of another parable, that of the Prodigal Son, and how it’s so much easier for many of us to relate to the resentful older brother than the wild and wasteful younger son.
All these things are worth reflecting on. And I don’t want you discourage you from going down any path this parable might take you.
At the same time, I want to encourage us to go a little deeper: to consider what this parable might have to say to us about what God is like, as well as some of the cultural values and personal feelings that might come between us and a richer experience of God’s grace.
Jesus does, after all, begin the story with a familiar expression: “The kingdom of God is like this.” Which is another way of saying, “This is how the world would work if God were in charge. This is how your workplace or church or community might function if you allowed God’s love and grace to have their way with you.” Which, in this case, is another way of saying, “If you want to follow Jesus, if you really want the world to be different than it is, you’re going to need to begin to let go of your human concepts of fairness and reward and, instead, pray that you might begin to understand God’s economy of justice, equality, and gift.”
I don’t believe Jesus is telling this story to make anyone feel bad, though it surely did and still does scandalize a lot of good, hard-working religious people.
What? we say. You mean God isn’t fair? God doesn’t see how hard I’ve worked? God thinks it’s okay to give the latecomers and the freeloaders just as much as me? Doesn’t God realize that my ancestors came to this land on the Mayflower? Does God really think we should help people who don’t work or reward people who come into our country illegally with residency, jobs, and healthcare? That’s just not right. That’s just not fair.
In the parable, the workers who had been laboring all day in the vineyard didn’t demand higher wages when they saw the workers who’d worked only an hour getting the same pay. They were getting exactly what they were promised. They were angry and resentful because they thought the latecomers are being given something they themselves had earned.
It’s not a good look, and yet it’s as common as the day is long. We’ve all been conditioned to expect that rewards come only after work, and that what you get out is equal to what you’ve put in. But when we discover that life isn’t fair—that good things happen to bad people and that the ultra-wealthy and many corporate CEOS take out far more than they put in—it’s hard not to fall prey to the next stage of the cycle: the us vs. them struggle of people vs. profits, the rich against the poor, the middle class against the lower class, the whites against the people of color, the cis-heterosexuals against the differently gendered, the native borns versus the immigrants.
And then very little changes, except that the people on the losing end of these struggles grow more angry, more alienated, more discouraged, more cynical, more desperate, and also less willing to trust, care, or see what they have in common with others. And then we get a deeply divided society in which almost everyone believes they are not being treated fairly and almost everyone blames someone else for the rotten state of affairs.
Friends, the realm of God is not at all like that. And Jesus simply wants us to see that if we will simply let God be God, the realm of God will be near.
Jesus isn’t interested in shaming the people of privilege or the folks who follow the rules and work hard. He wants us to understand that God has also given us far more than we deserve and that God wants everyone to have healing, wholeness, and enough for everyone. He wants us to see that there is a better way.
Jesus is shining a light on the big difference between God’s values and ours, between the realm of God and our broken world, between the way God wants things to be for us and the way we think they have to be. It’s humbling, but it can also be liberating.
Because when we can see those gaps clearly we can we re-commit ourselves to the holy work we’ve been talking about recently, the spiritual journey that the apostle Paul summarizes as no longer conforming to the values and ways of the world but instead letting ourselves be transformed by the love and grace of God and the power of the Spirit.
Like all journeys—journeys of healing and growing and changing—the spiritual journey takes grace and time. It takes commitment and intention. It takes prayer and community, contemplation and action.
By God’s grace, we are much farther along the way than when we started. And by God’s grace we can continue to grow and heal and change and take on the mind of Christ.
It occurred to me as I was reflecting on this parable this past week and offering Blessings to Go at the Amherst Block Party, that a growing understanding of the radical love and subversive grace of God has begun to change me.
As some of you know, I grew up in a very rigid, non-forgiving church that was all about do’s and don’ts. There was a lot of fear and very little grace to be had. It was all about following the rules and then hoping there would be some reward for good behavior.
From the very first time I offered Blessings to Go ten years ago this month, I have spoken a very different word. I have spoken the love and grace of God to people who told me they didn’t believe. I have blessed people who are drunk. With tears in my eyes, I have told stressed-out college students that there is nothing they have to do to earn God’s love and nothing they could ever do to lose it. It’s a gift, free and abundant, repeating and never ending.
As I offered blessings on Thursday evening, I realized that the standard blessing I offer to everyone had, once again, changed ever so slightly. It was even more audacious than before. Even clearer about God’s love than before. More scandalizing even than before.
Beloveds, I can say with sincere humility that this blessing does not come from me. It contradicts everything that was drilled into me for at least 20 years. It is the work of the Spirit in and through me, work that is inspired and enabled by the work of the Spirit I see in you and in this church.” It is, I now believe, something close to the shocking truth of the gospel and the confusing word of this parable:
Let yourself and everyone else be loved and blessed. Rejoice and be glad, for the God who loves you more than you can imagine is turning the world right side up, and the last will be first and the first will be last.
