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      Is There No Justice?

A sermon by Dr. Jim Somerville
Pastor, Richmond’s First Baptist Church
Richmond, Virginia

September 21, 2008
The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Matthew 20:1-16 

For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire men to work in his vineyard.  He agreed to pay them a denarius for the day and sent them into his vineyard.  About the third hour he went out and saw others standing in the marketplace doing nothing.  He told them, 'You also go and work in my vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.'  So they went. He went out again about the sixth hour and the ninth hour and did the same thing. About the eleventh hour he went out and found still others standing around. He asked them, 'Why have you been standing here all day long doing nothing?'  'Because no one has hired us,' they answered.  He said to them, 'You also go and work in my vineyard.'  When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his foreman, 'Call the workers and pay them their wages, beginning with the last ones hired and going on to the first.'  The workers who were hired about the eleventh hour came and each received a denarius.  So when those came who were hired first, they expected to receive more. But each one of them also received a denarius.  When they received it, they began to grumble against the landowner.  'These men 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.'  But he answered one of them, 'Friend, I am not being unfair to you. Didn't you agree to work for a denarius?  Take your pay and go. I want to give the man who was hired last the same as I gave you.  Don't I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?'  So the last will be first, and the first will be last (NIV).

Often when I am counseling with people I will be reminded of a story that seems to fit their situation, and without even asking I will reach up and take it down off the shelf like a country doctor reaching for a bottle of pills, hoping that it will help them see their situation differently or understand it better.[i]  Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t but I can’t seem to keep myself from reaching for a story.

And neither could Jesus.

In today’s Gospel reading he tells a story about a vineyard, some workers, and a crazy owner who stands justice on its head in the name of grace.  It’s one of my favorite parables, with plenty of intricate detail and a surprise ending as good as any in literature.  It can stand on its own and often does.  But this morning I’m wondering why Jesus told it to his disciples and why he told it when he did.  What symptoms led the Great Physician to reach for this particular remedy?

To find the answer we have to go back to the middle of chapter 19, where Matthew tells us that someone came to Jesus and said, “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”  And Jesus answered, “Keep the commandments.”  The man asked, “Which ones?”  And Jesus rattled off several of them, seemingly at random: “Don’t murder, don’t commit adultery, don’t steal, don’t bear false witness, honor your father and mother, and, oh yes, love your neighbor as yourself.”  But when the man said, “I’ve kept all of those; what do I still lack?” Jesus told him that if wanted to be perfect he should sell his possessions, give the money to the poor, and come and follow him.  And that’s when the young man went away “grieving, for he had many possessions” (Matt. 19:16-22).

That encounter didn’t prompt a story, but a saying.  As he watched the young man walk away Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, it will be hard for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven.  Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” And ever since Jesus said it preachers have been trying to make it go down a little easier for the sake of those wealthy people in their own congregations who may be offended by this saying and walk out before the offering is collected.  So they observe that the word for camel and the word for rope are almost identical in Greek, that Jesus may have meant it is easier for a rope to go through the eye of a needle, as if that would be any easier than pushing a camel through.  They sometimes talk about a gate in the wall of Jerusalem called “the Needle’s Eye” so small and narrow that the only way a camel could go through it was to get down on its knees.  That makes for good preaching but not good history because that gate never existed. 

No, I think Jesus says just what he means when he claims that it’s hard—nearly impossible—for a rich person to enter the Kingdom, and the proof is in the response of his disciples who are “greatly astounded.”  They believed that wealth was a sign of God’s favor and that the wealthy, obviously, were God’s favorites.  For Jesus to suggest that it was almost impossible for a rich person to get into heaven came as a complete shock to them.  “Then who can be saved?” they asked.  They may have pictured God’s kingdom surrounded by a high wall, with ladders propped up against it and all the rich people on the top rungs.  If they couldn’t get in then what chance did the people on the bottom rungs have?  And Jesus replied, “For mortals it is impossible, but for God all things are possible” (Matt. 19:23-26).

So, Peter asked, “What about us?  We have left everything to follow you.  What will we have?”  And Jesus replied, “Well, that’s the good news.  When the kingdom finally comes, when God makes his new beginning, and when I’m sitting on the throne of glory, you disciples will sit on twelve thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel.  And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields, for my name’s sake, will get it back a hundredfold, along with eternal life.  But many who are first now will be last then, and many who are last here will be first there” (Matt. 19:27-30).  And I don’t know how the disciples felt when they heard it but it must have been as if Jesus took those ladders leaning up against the wall of God’s Kingdom and turned them upside down, so that the rich and powerful were now on the bottom rung and the poor and pitiful were at the top.  Imagine how confused they would have been by the sudden change.  Imagine how confused the disciples must have been!  So Jesus reached for the medicine that would clear up their confusion, and this story was it.  He said:

“The kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire men to work in his vineyard.  He agreed to pay them a denarius for the day and sent them to work in his vineyard.”  So far the story sounds like something that could happen at any of our local Virginia wineries: a man needs some help in his vineyard; he goes out early in the morning looking for day laborers, he finds a group of men standing around in the usual place and offers to pay them the usual amount for a day’s work.  In Jesus’ time and in that part of the world it was a denarius, but let’s say that in our time and in this place it is a hundred dollars.  That seems reasonable to them, and so, a half dozen men climb into the back of his pickup and off he goes, up the highway and down the dirt road to the Kingdom Come Winery. 

By nine o’clock in the morning he sees that he will never get the crop in with only this much help, so he goes back into town where he sees some men standing around doing nothing.  “You fellows looking for work?” he asks.  And they say they wouldn’t mind.  “Well, jump in the truck,” he tells them. “You work in my vineyard for the rest of the day and I’ll pay you whatever is right.”  But it was a big harvest, better than he’d had in years.  So he went out at noon and again at three, hiring on some more workers and offering to pay them “whatever is right.”  At five o’clock he went out one more time and found a few men still standing around.  He said, “Why have you been standing here all day doing nothing?”  And they said, “Because nobody will hire us!”  He said, “Well, I’ll hire you.  Jump in the truck.”  So they did.

So far, as I’ve said, this story could take place anywhere, but in the next few sentences it becomes clear that this place is unlike any place we’ve ever been, and the owner of this vineyard is unlike anyone we’ve ever met.  Because, when the day is done and the harvest is in, he tells the foreman to call the workers to come get their pay, beginning with the last ones hired.  So, here they come, expecting seven or eight dollars for an hour’s work when, to their surprise, the foreman hands each of them an envelope with a crisp one hundred dollar bill inside.  No sooner has he done it than the word starts traveling back down the line, and all those other workers start doing the math.  If the ones who worked an hour got a hundred dollars then those who worked three hours should get three hundred dollars.  The ones who worked six hours should get six hundred dollars, the ones who worked nine hours should get nine hundred dollars, and the ones who worked twelve hours should get (God bless us every one!) twelve hundred dollars.

But that’s not what happens.  Every worker who comes forward to collect his pay envelope receives one, crisp hundred dollar bill—no more and no less.  And that’s when things get ugly.  One of the men who was hired at six in the morning goes to the owner and says, “This isn’t fair!  These last men worked only an hour and you paid them the same as those of us who have sweated it out in the heat of the day!”  But the owner said, “Look, pal.  I’m not being unfair.  You said you would work for a hundred dollars and that’s what I paid you.  Now take it and go.  Are you saying I don’t have a right to do what I want with my own money, or are you just jealous because I’m generous?”  And that’s when you know this is no ordinary vineyard Jesus is talking about, and no ordinary owner: instead, here we are, smack dab in middle of the kingdom, with the king himself handing out the pay envelopes.

Which takes us back to some of those earlier questions, like the rich man’s: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”  Or the disciples’: “Who then can be saved?”  Or Peter’s: “What will become of us?”  All of those questions are about how things will be at the end of the age; about who will be saved and what we will have.  And Jesus’ answer to all those questions is the same: that it won’t be what you expect.  The rich won’t be the first ones through the door and the poor won’t be the last; the ones who worked hardest won’t get the most and the ones who hardly worked won’t get the least.  It won’t be what we expect because we expect God to play by our rules and God insists on playing by his.  Ours are the rules of justice, while his are the rules of grace.

It doesn’t say so in this story but a denarius was not only the usual daily wage, it was also the minimum daily requirement; it was what it took to pay the rent and buy the bread that would keep a family alive.  That’s why there are rules in the Bible about not waiting until the next day to pay someone who has worked for you—the next day may be too late.  So, in the parable Jesus tells the owner of the vineyard doesn’t pay the workers what they deserve, he pays them what they need.  And the ones who worked only for an hour needed just as much as those who worked all day, and it’s possible that they needed it more.  Before you start saying that if they needed money they should have shown up earlier remember that when the owner asked them why they were still standing around they said it was because no one had hired them.  Maybe they didn’t look like the kind of people you would want to hire.  Maybe they were dirty and smelly.  Maybe they were crippled and diseased.  But maybe, also, they needed a denarius more than anybody else in town.  In this story they are called to the front of the line to receive their pay before all the others, and in that envelope is exactly what they need.  It isn’t fair.  Of course it isn’t.  It’s grace.

If Jesus reaches for this story like a country doctor reaching for a bottle of pills it is because he hears us talking about justice, about wanting what’s fair.  It suggests to him that we are people who believe that if we have labored faithfully in the vineyard then we should get what we deserve.  But let me ask you this: would any of us really want what we deserve?  Is there any righteous man here who believes God owes him heaven?  Is there any wealthy woman here who believes she can buy her way in?  No, when it comes to heaven we have to hold out our hands like beggars, asking God to give us what we need, and some of us aren’t very good at that.  The rich, for instance, who haven’t had much experience with begging, or the righteous, who believe that heaven is their just reward.  Maybe that’s why Jesus says the last will be first and the first will be last.  Maybe he knows that when it comes to heaven those who have learned to depend on God, those who have learned how to hold out their empty hands, those who know you get grace the same way you get supper at the soup kitchen, will be the first to get in line. 

 

—Jim Somerville, © 2008

 

 

 

 


 

[i] Clarissa Pinkola Estes and Barbara Brown Taylor have informed this way of thinking about stories as “medicine” (Estes: The Gift of Story, pp. 3-5; Taylor: Gospel Medicine, p. 4).