Preached on October 19, 2008 at The First Congregational Church of Tallmadge, UCC
1 Thessalonians 1:1-10
Dedicated to my wife, Betsy Wooster, who inspires me and shows me God’s love in the world; and always to the glory of God.
When we study the history of the church, one of the perplexing questions is how the church grew from the small number of people who had met and known Jesus in Galilee and Jerusalem and the surrounding country, to within three centuries reaching all the way through Asia Minor and Greece, to Rome, the capital of the Empire, and reaching south into Egypt, Ethiopia, and further into Africa. The strange thing about this great growth of the church is that under the Roman Empire in the first three centuries, Christians could be persecuted for their beliefs, arrested because they refused to call Ceasar their Lord, instead claiming only Jesus as Lord. And so, Christianity didn’t grow because they had wonderful worship services, or because there was great preaching. Worship services had to be held in secret, and only those who were already Christian could attend. In a time of persecution, you couldn’t announce a worship service and invite visitors.
So how did the church grow?
The historian Justo Gonzalez tells us that people did not find out about Christianity “in church services, but rather…in kitchens, shops, and markets.” It was in ordinary, everyday relationships that people came to know an invitation to a different kind of life in Jesus Christ. Jesus had told his followers to love one another, and by that love others would know that they were followers of Christ.[1]
Henry Chadwick, in his history of the early church, concluded that “the practical application of charity was probably the most potent single cause of Christian success.” Chadwick describes how “Christian charity” in the early church was expressed in “care for the poor, for widows and orphans, in visits to brethren in prison…and in social action in time of calamity like famine, earthquake, pestilence, or war.”[2]
This morning we heard the beginning of Paul’s letter to the church in Thessalonica, in what is today eastern Greece near the Aegean sea. After his conversion, Paul traveled to many cities to proclaim the message of Jesus Christ and to help local people to begin a Christian community before he moved on to somewhere else. Much of our New Testament is comprised of letters Paul wrote back to these communities after he had left. In this case, Paul has moved northwest to the regions of Macedonia and Achaia, and he writes back to the Thessalonians to tell them what he hears there:
“You became imitators of us and of the Lord; in spite of severe suffering, you welcomed the message with the joy given by the Holy Spirit. And so you became a model to all the believers in Macedonia and Achaia. The Lord's message rang out from you not only in Macedonia and Achaia--your faith in God has become known everywhere. Therefore we do not need to say anything about it”
Good news travels.
When we hear about people doing great things, it inspires us. We want to try it. When we hear about a creative family gathering that got the kids excited, we plan one with our family. When we hear about a great date idea, we want to try it ourselves. When we hear visit someone and admire their goldfish pond or the decorative candles in the dining room, we get an idea that we want to do at our home. And so it is in the life of faith. When we see the kind of love that exists among the faithful, and the depth of meaning in their lives, we want to join them: to surrender ourselves more fully to worship, to service, to spiritual growth.
Faith is not supposed to be a solo act. We need to hear the good news of each other’s lives. So let me share some good news with you.
I want to tell you about Anil and Teresa Henry. Ten years ago, Anil was a surgeon at a hospital in a large U.S. city; Teresa was an anesthesiologist, and they had three children. In the midst of this comfortable life, they felt the call to service that had been nurtured throughout their lives. They contacted Global Minitries of the United Church of Christ to offer their service, and were soon placed as a missionaries to India. They were commissioned at the Avon Lake United Church of Christ, not far from here in Tallmadge. In 2003, Anil and his wife took over Mungeli Hospital in Central India. At the time it had three working light bulbs, no screens, no linens, no beds, and very little equipment. Piece by piece they have made it a working hospital, never asking patients if they have money, but treating everyone as best they can.
Earlier this year, Anil drove 1200 miles to a port to pick up a shipping container full of supplies that had been donated from the U.S. Some of the boxes were marked with the words “packed with love,” sent by people very much like this congregation. One particular piece of equipment was put into use the day it was unloaded: an infant warmer for twins who had been born prematurely. The twins remained in acute care for one month at Mungeli Hospital. Here is what Anil wrote afterward: “The family and the community was amazed as to how we were able to save these small little babies with what little we had. It surely was the beginning of showing the community that with a little hard work and faith, there is so much that we can do.”
Good news travels. The early church thrived on practical applications of charity, and that has not changed. That’s still how the church grows. The same thing happens here and now, in this congregation. For starters, you help to support the Henry’s in India and the many other missionaries and disaster response efforts that we undertake in the United Church of Christ. It is our goal to increase our contribution to the wider mission of our church next year as a part of our stewardship.
It also happens here in very local ways: when you take food to Miller Ave, when you help to host homeless families with Interfaith Hospitality Network, when you buy malaria nets, when you go on mission tours, when you visit people in hospitals and homes, when you listen to veterans and their families, when you support people in illness, or as caregivers, and when you celebrate with them for weddings and babies who are born. Remember all the ministries featured at the ministry fair last Sunday. Or, perhaps, remember this next week when you look at the “ministry story booklet” that you will receive in worship: it tells the stories of this church. Good news travels, and the more good news travels, the more God is at work within us to do even more.
I want to invite you to share our good news. Here’s a quiz for you to see if you are ready to invite others in on what’s going on here, and you can just take this on your own right where you’re sitting.[3]
Let’s say a new family moves into your neighborhood and as you are meeting them, they say “This is exhausting. There’s so much to do. I have to find a new dry cleaner, a new grocery store. Why, we’ll even have to find a new church.”
Would you say…
A: Yeah, moving stinks.
B: I can recommend an outstanding dry cleaner.
C: Yes, I know how hard that is. I’d be glad to steer you toward a few places. And we attend a wonderful church where we feel at home. I’d be glad to tell you about it.
If they say “really, what’s your church like?”
Would you say…
A: Well, we’re like any other, we have our share of problems.
B: To be honest, I don’t get their all that often, so it’s hard to say.C. It’s very welcoming, full of all kinds of great people. I leave worship ready and inspired for the week.
Finally, if they say “Well, I think I’d like to visit your church sometime.”
Would you say…
A: You’re kidding?!
B: Good for you, I was thinking of sleeping in this week.
C: Great, why don’t you come with us. We’ll show you around and afterward we’ll take you all out for brunch.
Telling our good news is easier than you think, and it’s a wrong assumption to think that people are not interested. There is good news here and we have good news to tell about God’s great love for us shown in Jesus Christ, so may we continue the tradition that goes all the way back to those Thessalonians Christians, who became imitators of Jesus with joy, and the love they showed was so great that their good news traveled, and the story continued, and the story continues still…
In the name of the one who gives us life, redeems our lives, and sustains us along the journey. Amen
[1] Gonalez, The Story of Christianity, Volume 1. Page 99
[2] Chadwick, Henrey. The Early Church. Page
[3] Adapted from “Are You Ready to Talk About Your Church?” UCC pamphlet by Rev. Lillian Daniel.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Economic Crisis
In the midst this economic crisis, and the central crisis of the housing market collapse, I’m reminded of the widows who lost their houses in a long-ago time.
In a part of the gospels of Mark and Luke seldom noticed, Jesus speaks to the corruption of the religious leadership in Jerusalem : the scribes who were charged with applying the laws of the scripture to their society. They were supposed to be true to God’s word of justice and good news to the poor. Instead, the religious leaders were padding their own wallets while the ones in greatest need lost out. Jesus was always very forgiving of people who had sinned, but when he conf ron ts sin perpetrated in the name of religion, he lets them have it:
“Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets! They devour widows' houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.” (Mark 12:38-40).
The Biblical scholar Douglas Hare tells us how the scribes used their position of legal power to defraud a widow of their late husband’s estate. This was at a time when women were not allowed to speak in a courtroom. Unless the vulnerable widow had a son or brother who could present her case, she was easy prey to those in power. The precarious fate of widows in that era explains why scripture so often commands generosity and special concern for widows (and orphans). God’s will, revealed in scripture, was the moral conscience for a society where too many were left out.
I don’t know how to fix the economic crisis. I’m trying to understand it, and I’ve learned a lot about the stock, housing, and credit markets and the complex mechanisms that guide them, but I’m not in a position to advocate any particular solution. What I can do, and what I believe the church must do, is to be a moral conscience for our society. We should proclaim that those without power should not be left out of our public policy. We should demand a society in which the ones with power do not promote their own success by devouring the houses of the vulnerable, but instead work for the good of everyone, no exceptions.
In a part of the gospels of Mark and Luke seldom noticed, Jesus speaks to the corruption of the religious leadership in Jerusalem : the scribes who were charged with applying the laws of the scripture to their society. They were supposed to be true to God’s word of justice and good news to the poor. Instead, the religious leaders were padding their own wallets while the ones in greatest need lost out. Jesus was always very forgiving of people who had sinned, but when he conf ron ts sin perpetrated in the name of religion, he lets them have it:
“Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets! They devour widows' houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.” (Mark 12:38-40).
The Biblical scholar Douglas Hare tells us how the scribes used their position of legal power to defraud a widow of their late husband’s estate. This was at a time when women were not allowed to speak in a courtroom. Unless the vulnerable widow had a son or brother who could present her case, she was easy prey to those in power. The precarious fate of widows in that era explains why scripture so often commands generosity and special concern for widows (and orphans). God’s will, revealed in scripture, was the moral conscience for a society where too many were left out.
I don’t know how to fix the economic crisis. I’m trying to understand it, and I’ve learned a lot about the stock, housing, and credit markets and the complex mechanisms that guide them, but I’m not in a position to advocate any particular solution. What I can do, and what I believe the church must do, is to be a moral conscience for our society. We should proclaim that those without power should not be left out of our public policy. We should demand a society in which the ones with power do not promote their own success by devouring the houses of the vulnerable, but instead work for the good of everyone, no exceptions.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Let's Climb a Tree
Zacchaeus was a tax collector for the Roman Empire in his little town in Israel. Rome had taken power in Israel , as they had most everywhere else, and they levied large taxes on the conquered people, not for infrastructure or social services, but for the wealth and power of Rome . To collect the taxes, they found a local who was willing to work for them and supplied him with armed soldiers to get the money. That was Zacchaeus. He knocked on his neighbors doors on behalf of the empire, and he made his own salary by collecting more than Rome had demanded and pocketing the difference. He was sort of like the mafia collecting “protection money.”
What he was doing was w ron g, but it was working for him. I wonder if his old friends and neighbors ever tried to talk him out of it? Did they argue with him, pointing out his faults? And, if so, did Zacchaeus get defensive and argue back, adopting the Roman talking points about “Pax Romana,” the peace of the empire?
But argument is a poor way to change someone’s mind. It was Paul Tournier who said “I remember changing my mind during a heated argument only once in a long life.”
When Jesus finally met Zacchaeus and changed his life, he did it without argument. Jesus didn’t even mention the tax business or Zacchaeus’ corrupt wealth. All Jesus did was to look up in the tree that Zacchaeus had climbed in order to get a look (the townspeople, out of spite, had blocked him out at the roadside). Jesus looked up and told Zacchaeus that he wanted to share a meal with him.
I agree with Tournier. I don’t become a better person because someone argues with me. I become a better person by the power of God’s grace, shown to me in people who say to me by their actions, “I value you. You are a person of great worth.”
When life is going well for us we don’t look for changes. When we are comfortable, we don’t look for anything to upset our comfort. We don’t ask hard questions. Zacchaeus was living comfortably. He was wealthy, and he had power in his position. Why did he climb the tree? What was it in him that wanted to see Jesus? What was it that wanted to climb a tree and look at a different way of life? I wonder what trees we might need to climb?
And I wonder about us not just as individuals, but together as a people. We live in the wealthiest and most powerful nation on earth, and that’s what Zacchaeus was in his town. I wonder what a conversion for our nation would look like. Can we, together, climb a tree, hoping to see this son of God who can show us a better way?
What he was doing was w ron g, but it was working for him. I wonder if his old friends and neighbors ever tried to talk him out of it? Did they argue with him, pointing out his faults? And, if so, did Zacchaeus get defensive and argue back, adopting the Roman talking points about “Pax Romana,” the peace of the empire?
But argument is a poor way to change someone’s mind. It was Paul Tournier who said “I remember changing my mind during a heated argument only once in a long life.”
When Jesus finally met Zacchaeus and changed his life, he did it without argument. Jesus didn’t even mention the tax business or Zacchaeus’ corrupt wealth. All Jesus did was to look up in the tree that Zacchaeus had climbed in order to get a look (the townspeople, out of spite, had blocked him out at the roadside). Jesus looked up and told Zacchaeus that he wanted to share a meal with him.
I agree with Tournier. I don’t become a better person because someone argues with me. I become a better person by the power of God’s grace, shown to me in people who say to me by their actions, “I value you. You are a person of great worth.”
When life is going well for us we don’t look for changes. When we are comfortable, we don’t look for anything to upset our comfort. We don’t ask hard questions. Zacchaeus was living comfortably. He was wealthy, and he had power in his position. Why did he climb the tree? What was it in him that wanted to see Jesus? What was it that wanted to climb a tree and look at a different way of life? I wonder what trees we might need to climb?
And I wonder about us not just as individuals, but together as a people. We live in the wealthiest and most powerful nation on earth, and that’s what Zacchaeus was in his town. I wonder what a conversion for our nation would look like. Can we, together, climb a tree, hoping to see this son of God who can show us a better way?
Sermon - No Way to Run a Business
Preached on September 21, 2008 at First Congregational Church of Tallmadge, Ohio, UCC.
Matthew 20:1-15
If you run a business, this parable will drive you nuts. It’s a parable about a vineyard owner and the workers he hires, but as a model for owning a business or labor relations, it’s a mess from top to bottom.
It’s a twelve hour day in the vineyard, and he hires some workers at the beginning, and then others for nine hours, six hours, three hours, and finally a few more for one last hour in the workday. Some are full-time and some are part-time. No problem. But when the foreman starts to hand out the pay and he begins with the one-hour workers, things go awry. The one-hour workers each get a denarius. Now we remember from the beginning of the parable that a denarius is the wage that the first workers agreed to when they were hired at 6 AM. The owner went out first thing and found workers who agreed on one denarius for one day. In the original greek phrasing, it’s understood that agreed wage means the negotiated wage. So one denarius seemed like enough for the workers, and the owner thought it was not too much: it must be a fair wage. Later in the day, when the owner hired the other workers, he simply said “I’ll pay you what is fair” without negotiation. They were probably happy just to get work.
But now, at the end of the day, the one-hour workers get the full denarius, so the other workers know that this is about to get ridiculous in one way or the other. For a brief moment, they think it might get ridiculous in their favor. “Hey this guy doesn’t pay a denarius per day, he pays one per hour! Now each set of workers is mentally adding up their pay according to the number of hours they worked: three, six, nine, twelve denari. That’s what they might earn in two weeks! What a great job!
Alas, the fantasy is short-lived. As the foreman distributes the pay, it’s one denarius apiece for everyone. So it got ridiculous the other way. How can this be? They demand. How can it be fair to pay the same to those of us who worked in the heat of the day as the guys who barely had time to put their gloves on?
Now, you don’t need to be in business to guess the result. When tomorrow’s workday begins at the vineyard, do you think that a single worker will show up before 5 o’clock? Why work all day when the pay’s the same? And that’s if the full-timers come back at all, having been taken advantage of and humiliated. The owner says it’s his right to be generous, but it is also unfair. It does not inspire hard work or loyalty. It’s no way to run a business.
But of course, this parable is not about business. Now that we’re worked up about the unfairness and incompetence of this as a business story, we remember that Jesus introduced the story by saying “the kingdom of heaven is like….” This parable is about the kingdom of God, and things work differently there. There are a lot of places where we need fairness. We need fair evaluation of test scores and fair legal judgments. We need objective standards instead of insider deals. We need transparency and honesty in financial books and boardrooms. And we need equal pay for equal work. That’s all true. But that’s not what Jesus is talking about.
The grace of God is not about fairness, and for that we may be eternally thankful. The grace of God has nothing to do with what we have earned, or what we deserve. In this case, merit is the last standard we want to have applied. The only standard for God’s grace is the resurrection of Jesus Christ, the wideness of his mercy, the power of his love.
The vineyard in this parable is not a business model, and Jesus is not giving a management seminar. The vineyard stands for the kingdom of God, and this would not have been a strange image to the people of the first century. In the prophet Isaiah, the people of Israel were portrayed as God’s vineyard which has gone bad because the people have ignored God’s will. When Jesus told his disciples “I am the vine, and you are the branches,” that was a vineyard metaphor. The vineyard in our parable today is not a business; it is the community of God, working to bear Godly fruit, and to this vineyard everyone is invited by the generous grace of God.
Everyone is invited. Just like another parable in which God is the shepherd who searches for his lost sheep, so God is now the vineyard owner who goes out to the marketplace again and again and again to invite people into the vineyard. And so we as the church continue to extend God’s welcome: an invitation to join in this great and compelling life of faith. This act of welcome is so central to our identity that we are in the midst of a construction project that is designed as a tool that allows us to be as welcoming as we can be. It is designed to remind us that this welcome goes beyond these walls. Our spirit of welcome goes out again and again, at the sixth hour, the ninth hour, the eleventh hour.
I am struck by the conversation the owner has with the workers at the eleventh hour. He asks them “why are you still standing here idle?” And they tell him the difficult truth: “because no one has hired us.”
The biblical scholar J. Ellsworth Kalas[1] tells the story of coming home from school one day to the surprising sight of his father at home at mid-afternoon. He asks what has happened, and in the silence of his father’s response, his mother says “your father lost his job.” This was a revelation for Kalas, because before that day he hadn’t known that good people could lose their jobs. He had grown up thinking that the unemployed were lazy, uncommitted, bad workers. He didn’t know that a person who wanted to work would have any trouble finding it. Think about those last people whom the vineyard owner found at 5 o’clock: “no one has hired us.”
This parable reminds us of the terrible burden of unemployment. What becomes of us when our work is not valued, when we are unwanted? And since the vineyard represents the kingdom of God, we should also ask who is left standing around because no one has told them that they are welcome, that they are valued? No one has told them that there is a great calling for their lives, to give them to something meaningful, to a cause that is worth our work and even our sacrifice. Why are they standing around? Because no one has shown them that they are loved beyond measure.
In this place we worship one who tells us that we have been created for great things. Here we remember that life is not just about taking care of ourselves. Here we are called to look out for one another, to join in a community that cares for the vulnerable, that seeks peace, and lives justly. Here we allow God’s love to make us new, that we may love others not according to their merit, not according to how deserving or lovable they are, but simply because God has first loved us. This life is worth inviting everyone in on, and it doesn’t matter if you start early or late, just join in; we want everyone.
And now we know why the 12-hour workers complained. They were the ones who made a deal: one days’ work for one denarius. They had negotiated a deal, so when the owner is generous, that doesn’t work for them. I wonder, how many of us think that we have negotiated a deal with God? I’ll do this for God, and God will do this for me. If I’m good, then God will keep me safe. If I give enough, then God will cure my ills and solve my problems. If I don’t mess up, then God will love me. Consciously or unconsciously, we have our deal worked out, and so we try to keep up our end. And that’s why we get upset when God’s love is given just the same to those who haven’t lived up to our deal. It’s not fair for them to be treated the same as us!
To which God says “fair? You want fair? You’ve never gotten fair and you wouldn’t want it.”
When we are generally good and when life is good to us, and when that goes on for a long enough time, we gradually forget that we are totally dependent on the grace of God. We think that we’re just working out our little deal. We forget that all our work in the vineyard of God’s kingdom is not to earn us greater rewards – it is its own reward. It is its own reward because when we are in the vineyard, we are not standing around waiting for something to give our lives meaning. When we are in the vineyard, we get to be the ones who hold open the doors and throw the welcome party. This is what we get to do every day, wherever we go: sharing God’s love, sharing God’s generosity, sharing the fruit of God’s vineyard. That’s what we get to do, and it’s such a great gig, we get together every week to do it together right here in this sanctuary, with praise and thanksgiving.
[1] Kalas, J. Ellsworth, Parables from the Back Side.
Matthew 20:1-15
If you run a business, this parable will drive you nuts. It’s a parable about a vineyard owner and the workers he hires, but as a model for owning a business or labor relations, it’s a mess from top to bottom.
It’s a twelve hour day in the vineyard, and he hires some workers at the beginning, and then others for nine hours, six hours, three hours, and finally a few more for one last hour in the workday. Some are full-time and some are part-time. No problem. But when the foreman starts to hand out the pay and he begins with the one-hour workers, things go awry. The one-hour workers each get a denarius. Now we remember from the beginning of the parable that a denarius is the wage that the first workers agreed to when they were hired at 6 AM. The owner went out first thing and found workers who agreed on one denarius for one day. In the original greek phrasing, it’s understood that agreed wage means the negotiated wage. So one denarius seemed like enough for the workers, and the owner thought it was not too much: it must be a fair wage. Later in the day, when the owner hired the other workers, he simply said “I’ll pay you what is fair” without negotiation. They were probably happy just to get work.
But now, at the end of the day, the one-hour workers get the full denarius, so the other workers know that this is about to get ridiculous in one way or the other. For a brief moment, they think it might get ridiculous in their favor. “Hey this guy doesn’t pay a denarius per day, he pays one per hour! Now each set of workers is mentally adding up their pay according to the number of hours they worked: three, six, nine, twelve denari. That’s what they might earn in two weeks! What a great job!
Alas, the fantasy is short-lived. As the foreman distributes the pay, it’s one denarius apiece for everyone. So it got ridiculous the other way. How can this be? They demand. How can it be fair to pay the same to those of us who worked in the heat of the day as the guys who barely had time to put their gloves on?
Now, you don’t need to be in business to guess the result. When tomorrow’s workday begins at the vineyard, do you think that a single worker will show up before 5 o’clock? Why work all day when the pay’s the same? And that’s if the full-timers come back at all, having been taken advantage of and humiliated. The owner says it’s his right to be generous, but it is also unfair. It does not inspire hard work or loyalty. It’s no way to run a business.
But of course, this parable is not about business. Now that we’re worked up about the unfairness and incompetence of this as a business story, we remember that Jesus introduced the story by saying “the kingdom of heaven is like….” This parable is about the kingdom of God, and things work differently there. There are a lot of places where we need fairness. We need fair evaluation of test scores and fair legal judgments. We need objective standards instead of insider deals. We need transparency and honesty in financial books and boardrooms. And we need equal pay for equal work. That’s all true. But that’s not what Jesus is talking about.
The grace of God is not about fairness, and for that we may be eternally thankful. The grace of God has nothing to do with what we have earned, or what we deserve. In this case, merit is the last standard we want to have applied. The only standard for God’s grace is the resurrection of Jesus Christ, the wideness of his mercy, the power of his love.
The vineyard in this parable is not a business model, and Jesus is not giving a management seminar. The vineyard stands for the kingdom of God, and this would not have been a strange image to the people of the first century. In the prophet Isaiah, the people of Israel were portrayed as God’s vineyard which has gone bad because the people have ignored God’s will. When Jesus told his disciples “I am the vine, and you are the branches,” that was a vineyard metaphor. The vineyard in our parable today is not a business; it is the community of God, working to bear Godly fruit, and to this vineyard everyone is invited by the generous grace of God.
Everyone is invited. Just like another parable in which God is the shepherd who searches for his lost sheep, so God is now the vineyard owner who goes out to the marketplace again and again and again to invite people into the vineyard. And so we as the church continue to extend God’s welcome: an invitation to join in this great and compelling life of faith. This act of welcome is so central to our identity that we are in the midst of a construction project that is designed as a tool that allows us to be as welcoming as we can be. It is designed to remind us that this welcome goes beyond these walls. Our spirit of welcome goes out again and again, at the sixth hour, the ninth hour, the eleventh hour.
I am struck by the conversation the owner has with the workers at the eleventh hour. He asks them “why are you still standing here idle?” And they tell him the difficult truth: “because no one has hired us.”
The biblical scholar J. Ellsworth Kalas[1] tells the story of coming home from school one day to the surprising sight of his father at home at mid-afternoon. He asks what has happened, and in the silence of his father’s response, his mother says “your father lost his job.” This was a revelation for Kalas, because before that day he hadn’t known that good people could lose their jobs. He had grown up thinking that the unemployed were lazy, uncommitted, bad workers. He didn’t know that a person who wanted to work would have any trouble finding it. Think about those last people whom the vineyard owner found at 5 o’clock: “no one has hired us.”
This parable reminds us of the terrible burden of unemployment. What becomes of us when our work is not valued, when we are unwanted? And since the vineyard represents the kingdom of God, we should also ask who is left standing around because no one has told them that they are welcome, that they are valued? No one has told them that there is a great calling for their lives, to give them to something meaningful, to a cause that is worth our work and even our sacrifice. Why are they standing around? Because no one has shown them that they are loved beyond measure.
In this place we worship one who tells us that we have been created for great things. Here we remember that life is not just about taking care of ourselves. Here we are called to look out for one another, to join in a community that cares for the vulnerable, that seeks peace, and lives justly. Here we allow God’s love to make us new, that we may love others not according to their merit, not according to how deserving or lovable they are, but simply because God has first loved us. This life is worth inviting everyone in on, and it doesn’t matter if you start early or late, just join in; we want everyone.
And now we know why the 12-hour workers complained. They were the ones who made a deal: one days’ work for one denarius. They had negotiated a deal, so when the owner is generous, that doesn’t work for them. I wonder, how many of us think that we have negotiated a deal with God? I’ll do this for God, and God will do this for me. If I’m good, then God will keep me safe. If I give enough, then God will cure my ills and solve my problems. If I don’t mess up, then God will love me. Consciously or unconsciously, we have our deal worked out, and so we try to keep up our end. And that’s why we get upset when God’s love is given just the same to those who haven’t lived up to our deal. It’s not fair for them to be treated the same as us!
To which God says “fair? You want fair? You’ve never gotten fair and you wouldn’t want it.”
When we are generally good and when life is good to us, and when that goes on for a long enough time, we gradually forget that we are totally dependent on the grace of God. We think that we’re just working out our little deal. We forget that all our work in the vineyard of God’s kingdom is not to earn us greater rewards – it is its own reward. It is its own reward because when we are in the vineyard, we are not standing around waiting for something to give our lives meaning. When we are in the vineyard, we get to be the ones who hold open the doors and throw the welcome party. This is what we get to do every day, wherever we go: sharing God’s love, sharing God’s generosity, sharing the fruit of God’s vineyard. That’s what we get to do, and it’s such a great gig, we get together every week to do it together right here in this sanctuary, with praise and thanksgiving.
[1] Kalas, J. Ellsworth, Parables from the Back Side.
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