Readings
for Proper 20:A
Jonah 3:10-4:11; Psalm 145; Philippians 1:21-27; Matthew 20:1-16
September 18, 2005
The Rev. Mary B. Blessing
St. Jude the Apostle Episcopal Church, Cupertino,
CA
Monday I went to San Francisco to take my mom to lunch, as I often do on my day off. This particular day we decided to take our burritos to the park across the street from her Pacific Heights apartment. It was a challenge for her to make her way with a walker to a bench in the center of the park. We wanted to be near the children’s playground, to enjoy gleeful laughter of kids, walk my dog, Zoe, and eat our feast. So we struggled, and we made it.
After a while, Zoe let me know she really needed to get water from the dog dish over in the distance, tied to the water fountain. We went over, I filled the dog dish, and while Zoe lapped up her water, I looked up and saw a man standing at a nearby tree. He had a big duffle bag stuffed with clothes, shoes, toiletries, water bottles--everything spilling out the outer pockets. This park, across from the Spreckles’ mansion, overlooks the Golden Gate Bridge. It is known for its homeless population. As long as they clean up after themselves, neighbors are very accepting of them. People still come to walk poodles, cockers and Bishon Frieze. Children play in this park, right alongside the homeless. It is a park for all: old, young, rich and poor.
As I stood observing this man—who looked like he could be my brother—I thought, “There but for the grace of God, go I.” I wondered, why did I have all the privilege of a good home, a good education, a good family, a good job, and he stood there, homeless? I pondered this a while, then suddenly, I realized I had $3.00 sticking up, right there in my shirt pocket. Money that would probably buy me a latte or maybe a gallon of gas. Money that was really not that significant to me, but might make a big difference in this man’s life. And so I took the money, walked over to him and said, “Hello, would you like some money?”
The man’s response humbled my heart, as he said, “Oh, no, thank you. I appreciate your offer, but I don’t need it. I can’t take money I don’t work for. I have a job. It isn’t much. But, I close up for a flower shop down the street. They pay me $10. a day. And that’s all I need. It buys my bus faire, and enough food for a day. I know I should be looking for a day job, so I don’t have to be homeless, but this park is nice—I have water, a bathroom, everything I need. And I work everyday, except the Lord’s day.”
I had never seen a homeless person turn down money. Most beg for money, food, a job, whatever. But this man humbled me. He revealed to me that he shared the same work ethic most of us hold. He expected to work for his pay. And he would not accept a handout.
Our culture is deeply ensconced in the Puritan work ethic: the idea that suffering is required to redeem our ‘original sin’, and that human beings must work hard to earn God’s grace. So deep is this belief, that even a homeless person who makes only $10. a day, found it against his work ethic to accept my gift of $3.00., an amount that in his life could make a difference of getting two meals that day instead of just one.
Matthew’s gospel story of the Landowner hiring Laborers for his Vineyard reveals God’s radical generosity. God is willing to generously give us not what we deserve by our own efforts, but to give us beyond what we deserve. God does this simply because God loves us.
2000+ years after Jesus’ teaching on the radical grace of God’s love for each of us, we still resist. We still react to this story with “well, of course you should pay more money to those who work harder”—we cannot fathom things any other way. Business manager types may think, “Wow, Jesus would have been a horrible business manager—a company could go bankrupt paying low production workers the same as high producers; or the unions might shut you down with a strike for unfair business practices!” Maybe parents hearing this story can imagine the chaos among siblings if you paid one child who worked all day the same amount as the slacker who only worked the last hour—“Mom, that’s not fair!”
But we must remember: this is a parable. It is not a business plan and it does not address the logical point of “fairness”. This story is designed to get us thinking about God’s enormous generosity—God’s desire to offer salvation through grace. God’s gift to humanity which is given freely—we do not have to earn it, we just need to accept the gift of salvation. And, maybe even harder for us who are in the community of faith, we must allow others the room to accept that same gift, whether WE think they are worthy or not. Whether we think they have “worked as hard as we have” in their spiritual development or not. God is free to include them as equal members in God’s kingdom.
God’s willingness to offer his free gift of salvation--complete love and wholeness for all—and our willingness to accept this love, is what protestant theologians call the doctrine of justification by grace through faith. (Thomas p. 203) This story of the Laborers shows us that what saves us is based solely on the grace of God and not on human merit or works. This is an extremely difficult concept for us, just as it was for the people of Matthew’s time. The landowner who generously offers the same wages to those who accept his “11th hour” offer, is like God who offers the free gift of salvation to all—not just those who have worked their whole lives to grow close to God, but even to those who are new to the gospel. In Matthew’s budding Christian community there were those who had given up all they had—they left families, friends, jobs, everything, from the beginning of Christian ministry--perhaps some had even been with Jesus’ apostles in ministry. No doubt they believed they deserved more in the Kingdom of heaven than those who came to Christianity later. Are we not tempted to do the same?
Christian community members have long suffered from the same sense of “entitlement” our secular world faces. We believe those who labor long and hard deserve more. I struggle with this, too. My head tells me that those who work harder should be rewarded more. I’m like the laborer who grumbles: “you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day.” (Mt. 20:11-12) But my heart warms to the idea that God’s love is so abundant there is room for everyone, equally. There have been times when I have received God’s grace when I did not deserve it. How can I possibly want less for others?
As an Episcopalian I struggle with what it means for us to be willing to accept persons who come to the faith later in life. Or perhaps to accept that someone may receive God’s gift of salvation through faith without ever having experienced our glorious, ritualistic worship. Sometimes it is a challenge not to grumble when we observe a “Johnny come lately” who does not value our traditional hymns or fancy vestments—elements of our worship we have worked hard to perfect. How do we sincerely “make room in the vineyard” for those who have not labored in the hot sun with us all these years? Can it truly be that God’s generosity is big enough not only to include these new people, but to rejoice in their unique contribution, and honor them with the same level of love and comfort we enjoy?
Sitting back on the park bench I thought of Jesus’ story of the generous Landlord. How it shows us that God receives each and everyone as if we are already ONE, that no one of us is more important than the other. I realized the homeless man is loved by God just as much as my aging mother who worked hard her whole life. These two enjoy the beauty of the same park, they listen to the songs of the same birds, they hear the same laughter of the children. God loves the homeless man just as much as any one of us, whether the man chooses to stay on the streets or finds that day job which gives him enough money for an apartment. Whether the man knows he is loved or not, God does love him. God wants him to know and accept God’s grace.
And so I went back to the man and said, “You mentioned you ‘work every day but the Lord’s Day.’ What do you do on the Lord’s Day?” He looked down shyly and said, “Not much.” I asked, “Do you go to Church or another place of worship?” “Well, no…they don’t want me at church, not Sunday morning, not for worship. I’m going to have to work days, get an apartment and have a place to leave my things before they’ll let me in on the Lord’s Day.” I thought, how sad, this man feels such shame. He does not feel worthy to enter a church on Sunday. 2000+ years of sharing Jesus’ gospel message of acceptance and grace, and we have failed to make the most needy feel welcome. Then, I invited him to try church again.
AMEN
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