I have been thinking quite a lot lately about those hourly workers laboring in the vineyard who appear in Matthew’s gospel for this Sunday. I have been imagining what it might be like to begin a physically demanding job in the wee hours of the morning, to work hard all day, and then to watch other people who arrived many hours later receive the exact same payment that I did. I have been thinking that it makes perfect sense for people in this position to complain about the lack of fairness in the system, to feel cheated, to judge those who worked less than they did as slackers or cheats. Of course, if we are in this position and have been brought up to be good Christians, we might immediately reject this natural instinct of jealousy or self-righteousness as morally wrong . . . and instead adopt a paternalistic attitude toward “those less fortunate” who of course should be cared for, even though they didn’t really deserve it, and even though we would never be one of them.
At least this is what I imagine myself thinking about the story if I were still safely employed in a job I loved with more than adequate health insurance and a sizable pension plan with a matching 401 (k). Like many “hard working” Americans, I have been an overachieving workaholic all my life, easily falling into the trap of assuming I deserve to be compensated better than my colleagues . . . easily falling into the trap of believing I actually have earned everything I have achieved, rather than admit that at some level I simply may have happened to be in the right place at the right time when the landowner came around offering work at 6 in the morning. (Okay, maybe it's been closer to 9.)
I am no longer in that position, at least for now.
I have learned in this past week that it is an entirely different experience to read the parable of the workers in the vineyard from the perspective of someone seeking employment, swirling through a sea of uncertainty, scraping together temporary and part-time jobs, wondering when a more stable employer will stop by to pick me up . . . at 9am? . . . or noon? . . . or 3pm? . . . or—please God, at least let it be by 5!
From this new perspective, I have been imagining those workers waiting in the marketplace, alternating between confidence and doubt, knowing in one minute they have the skills and the desire to earn a decent living but watching the minutes and the hours tick by with nothing to show for it. Wondering if they would ever have anything to show for it.
From this new perspective, I have also been marveling at the generosity of an employer who would spend an entire day seeking out and then hiring everyone who wanted to work . . . and then providing all the workers with a wage that would support them through the next day, even if they did not technically “earn” it. And I've been thinking that perhaps if I could just know that 5pm would not pass me by empty-handed, I could rest and renew, rather than panic and fear. Perhaps if I could just believe that everyone in the marketplace would get hired eventually, I would faithfully discern the call of God, rather than descend into cut-throat competition with my equally gifted peers. Perhaps if I could just trust that I would receive what I needed when I needed it, regardless of when I started working again, I would actually be able to enjoy the marketplace in the meantime.
The kingdom of heaven, Jesus tells us in this parable, is like a person who owned some land and went out very early to hire some people to work in his vineyard. The kingdom of heaven is like trusting God’s eternal provision, whether we start working at 6am or 5pm or somewhere in between. The kingdom of heaven is like trusting a God who seeks us out, who pursues us from early morning and well into the evening, who dares us to shed jealousy and fear and pride and doubt in order that all may be fed and all may finally thrive. The kingdom of heaven is here with us now, as well as in the age to come.
And this is how God provides for us all. May we believe it, may we trust it, may we live it into reality in the days and weeks to come. In the name of Christ. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment