God’s Grace by The Rev. John Payne (Ret.)
Sermon given in Christ Episcopal September 24, 2023
One of the great inventions of modern Western society is the
labor union. Far too long those with money, land and privilege shamelessly
exploited those who had none. The novels of Charles Dickens bear this out.
When, after a long struggle, workers with no power, except their own labor,
managed to stand together and force the issue with the wealthy and the strong,
it was a great day for freedom and justice. By and large, the unions did a good
job checking exploitation or reversing it. The unions were not perfect and
other issues change the role of some from what their founders had envisaged. My
father worked for the railroad for 40 years and was a union man. As far as my
memory serves, the Brotherhood of Railway Signalmen never made unreasonable
demands or called for a strike. However, my father’s union, as most others,
would have been horrified at the story of the laborers in the vineyard in
today’s Gospel (Matthew 20:1-16). If you found the idea of forgiveness without
limits rough going, then strap yourself in for more turbulence.
This is another parable of the kingdom, and the purpose of
the story is to say something about God. Jesus also probably intends the parable
as a warning to the disciples about their own attitudes regarding a perceived
favored status.
The incident of the rich young man who clung to his
possessions rather than follow Jesus (Matthew 19:16-30) completely
flabbergasted the disciples; and Peter asked the “64 Thousand Dollar Queston”:
“Look, we have left everything and followed you, what then will we have?” The
flip-side of today’s parable may well be a warning to the disciples: don’t
think that, because you’ve been close to me so far, you are now the favored few
for all time. However, notes N.T.
Wright, Jesus is accepting, for the purpose of the story, the social and
economic power of the landowner in order to say something about God. What is he
saying? We need to look closely at the last group of workers, the ones who were
hired with only one hour of the workday remaining. Had they not been in the
marketplace earlier? So the landowner questioned them: why haven’t you been
working? The answer is revealing: “Because no one has hired us” (v.7). Nobody,
in other words, wanted them. Perhaps they were the sort of people employers go
to great lengths to avoid. But the landowner did not hesitate to hire them.
What’s more, they were paid a full day’s wage for one hour’s
work! Here is the rub. The story is very irritating if you see yourself as one
of the conscientious, hardworking, deserving people who worked all day. But
it’s very reassuring if you identify with the latecomers who don’t get what
they deserve, but get something better. C. S. Lewis would call this being
“surprised by joy”. When grace cuts through our moral calculus, it elicits
grumbling, not gratitude. When someone else whom we perceive to be unworthy
receives grace, we grumble. When we receive grace, well, that’s different,
because we think we’ve earned it. There is a striking parallel in the Old
Testament when David, in face of protests, decides to reward equally the
soldiers who fought bravely and those who, because of exhaustion, remained
behind to guard the camp (1 Sam. 30:21-25).
Underlying both stories is the idea that God’s grace is not on the basis of merit but of his compassion. Jesus’ vision of the divine
compassion is greater that divine justice. Those who worship this God must
imitate his generosity.
However, most of us still identify with the laborers who
worked all day; after all, here we are in the “vineyard”. We’ve been in the
church all our lives, from the first, put there by loving parents. It’s only
natural for us to think that we’re the most deserving because we’ve been here
all along: working, praying, giving for the kingdom of God.
This ought to entitle us to something special. If the truth be known, most of
us think in terms of merit rather than grace and somehow deep down believe that
we’ve earned salvation by our faithful service. However, as N. T. Wright notes,
God’s grace is not the sort of thing you can bargain with or try to store up.
It isn’t the sort of thing that one person can have a lot and someone else only
a little.
The point of the parable is that what people get from having
served God is not, strictly, a reward for the work done. God doesn’t make
contracts with us. He makes covenants in which he promises everything and asks
of us everything.
A devout Episcopalian died and appeared before St. Peter who
said, “Welcome to heaven. It takes 1000 points to get inside the Pearly Gates.
Tell me about yourself.” The man proudly told of his perfect attendance in
Sunday school, service as an acolyte, participation in the youth group and his
many years as a lay Eucharistic minister.
Peter said, “Very good. That’s worth one point.” The man wrinkled his
brow and continued, “I’m 90 years old and was a faithful communicant my whole
life. I tithed my income, served on the vestry, volunteered in many
organizations to help the poor and needy.” Peter replied, “Excellent! That’s
also worth one point. You now have two points. Please continue.” The man’s face
turned bright red and in a burst of anger, blurted, “Damn it! At this rate the
only way I’ll get into heaven is by the grace of God. That’s right, by the
sheer grace of God.” Peter extended his hand and exuberantly proclaimed,
“Congratulations, that is worth 998 points. You now have 1000 points, so
welcome aboard.” How easy it is to forget that Christianity is essentially a
consummate love story.
How is it that we get lost in the subplots of law, sin and
judgment? Because it’s easier to be
legal rather than loving. It’s ever so easy to overlook, in the parable, that,
although the first hired hand did indeed bear “the day’s burden and the heat”,
that is not what earned their reward. Our labor alongside Christ is its own
reward, and working in God’s vineyard for any other reason is bound to
disappoint, because God “pays” all who enter the whole of what there is to
give, his saving grace. Devout church people can easily assume that they are
the special ones. In reality, God is out in the marketplace, looking for the
people everybody else tries to ignore, welcoming them on the same terms,
surprising them (and everybody else) with his generous grace.
God promises a world big enough for those whose lives don’t
add up to anything to have everything. Actually, we’re all the “eleventh-hour”
workers whose debts have been paid and whose forgiveness has been secured by
Jesus Christ our Lord.
In the world’s mathematics, one plus one always equals two.
But in the mathematics of the kingdom, one sheep is equal in value to 99, and a
landowner pays the first and the last workers the same, because he wants to
give to everyone according to their needs and not what they think they deserve.
The haunting words in the parable are the landowner’s remark, “Am I not allowed
to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am
generous?” (v.7). Today’s first reading (Jonah 3:10-4:11) speaks to the
limitless forgiveness of God that defies
all human boundaries. It’s like a mirror held up to our face to reveal how we
take ourselves and our tendency to divide up the world as God’s way.
The book of Jonah is also a vision of God at its best:
compassion, inclusive, emphasis on sovereign grace and freedom, and mercies
wider than the universe. Little wonder that we often find God working on the
“wrong side” of the street.
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