Sunday sermon: Matthew 20.1-16 The generous vinyard owner - a parable of God's generosity

Matthew 20.1-16

 

“For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire labourers for his vineyard. After agreeing with the labourers for the usual daily wage, he sent them into his vineyard. When he went out about nine o’clock, he saw others standing idle in the marketplace; and he said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.’ So they went. When he went out again about noon and about three o’clock, he did the same. And about five o’clock he went out and found others standing around; and he said to them, ‘Why are you standing here idle all day?’ They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard.’ When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his manager, ‘Call the labourers and give them their pay, beginning with the last and then going to the first.’ When those hired about five o’clock came, each of them received the usual daily wage. Now when the first came, they thought they would receive more; but each of them also received the usual daily wage. And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner, saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ But he replied to one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?’ So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”

Does anyone know what the average wage for a Premier Division footballer is?

It’s a great game isn’t it judging people on the basis of their wage or salary? We often measure someone’s worth on what they earn don’t we? Or, as in the case of the footballer, we might raise our eyebrows and make some comment about the madness of a system that pays obscene amounts to some people who seem to add little in real value to society in comparison to those who do, such as nurses, the police, care-workers or prison officers who are paid a pittance in comparison.

When we play that game, if we’re still in work, the essential rule is to compare what we earn - or used to, if we’re retired – with what someone gets who we perceive has less value to society than we do, particularly if that person earns more than us but is less skilled, or educated, or productive. “I work three times as hard for a third of the money!”

Oh yes, if you want to get people upset very quickly, all you have to do is start talking about earnings, and of course, despite the legislation we still don’t have equal pay do we?

And what about if we stop talking in a general sense and make comparisons closer to home? How many times have you heard the lament of the older man who thinks he lost out to someone inferior because of anti-discrimination laws? (In our house we call that sense of entitlement “black-lesbian-in-a-wheelchair syndrome” because it encompasses all the disadvantaged groups in one persona.)

Well, the older man, in the parable’s terms is the man who started working at dawn or nine o’clock and those who anti-discrimination laws have sought to protect are the ones who started at three or five o’clock.
  Money, salaries, equal pay for equal work, anti-discrimination laws: these ideas cause all kinds of tensions within us and it’s with this same sense of discomfort that we approach this parable of Jesus for today.

 When you examine the parables of Jesus, they’re enormously creative. Many people would claim that Jesus is one of the greatest story story-tellers who ever lived and his parables illustrate that point. Why? Because Jesus’ parables are always from everyday life and because of that they speak to people’s personal experiences. They’re from the market place, the farm, the family, the fishing boat, the building site. Well, today’s parable is about another of life’s common themes: salaries, wages, and a fair day’s pay for a fair day’s work. 

In short, the story goes like this: there was this man who was a landowner owner and his property included a vineyard and he needed workers to harvest his grapes. He went to the village square at six o’clock in the morning and hired workers who went out and worked all day for twelve hours until six at night. But that wasn’t enough to get the work done, so some more workers were hired at nine o’clock and they worked for nine hours. Then more were hired at noon and worked for six hours; more at three o’clock who worked for three hours; and yet more were taken on late in the afternoon and worked for one hour.  Well, that’s the market economy at work so there’s nothing particularly odd about the story so far – until the landowner decides to pay everyone the full daily rate. Well, surprise, surprise, those who had worked the longest felt hard done by.

Well, we’ve all been there haven’t we? We put in the full effort while someone who works with us is a known skiver but is paid on the same rate. Where’s the justice in that?

What is the purpose of this story? The parables of Jesus are always earthly stories with heavenly meanings. So what is the heavenly meaning of this earthly story for us today?

This is a parable about faith, I think: it’s about people who come to faith in Christ at different times in their lives and who receive the same reward because that’s the deal. The workers who came later weren’t skivers and that’s where the modern comparisons break down. There’s nothing in the story to suggest that they somehow worked with less enthusiasm or commitment.

In John’s Gospel Jesus said, “I came that you shall have life in all its fullness.” What he didn’t say was, “You can only have that fullness of life if you are a cradle Christian. Those of you who came to faith later in life? Well, that’s a shame, because you only get a proportion of what I offer depending on how late you came to faith.” Remember the thief on the cross? You don’t come to faith much later than that, but the promised reward was there for him too.

The deeper meaning of this parable should be clear to us: God is inviting people to be in a relationship with him and he comes looking for us. We’re the people in the market place. In the parable the landowner not only seeks workers, but does so repeatedly until the end of the day, picking up those who were there at the crack of dawn and those who came later. This parable encourages us to see God in the same way, as the one who seeks perpetually with his offer of abundant life made through Jesus.

What we seem to struggle with in the parable, to have the most difficulty accepting, is the landowner’s extravagant generosity. What we often fail to see is that all God’s gifts to us – his generosity and his grace - are undeserved. St. Paul told the Christians at Ephasus this very thing, “For by grace you have been saved …. Not through your own good works, in case any of you should boast.”

When Jesus says, “I have come that you may have life in its fullness” there’s an implied contract there and there was a contract in the parable too: while some people got more than they expected, no one got less. No one got ripped off.

Matthew must have made his point well because we seem to have internalised the moral: we tend not – at least not that I’ve ever noticed – to bemoan the fact that those who come to faith later get the same benefits as those who came earlier but it must have been as issue for Matthew’s community. Jewish converts to Christianity could claim that they had been God’s children all along. There were obviously new converts who had come later and were equally welcomed under God’s grace. There must have been some chuntering about that or this parable would not have been included in Matthew’s Gospel. But we seem to have learnt from it.

So, although the parable doesn’t say so explicitly, it would be right to see this as an ongoing story: the landowner will be back the next day and the day after looking for more workers to bring under his patronage because that is the nature of God.

So, where does that leave us? We’re all here today because at some stage we have come under the patronage of the landowner: God sought us out and we signed up, so to speak. For some of us, that’s been a lifelong process and we’ve grown into that faith: we can’t remember a time when we didn’t have that faith in God. Others of us came to the same faith in a variety of different ways and there may have been a point in time when we can date the moment our faith began.

But how did it happen? These things don’t happen in a vacuum: there were triggers along the way; something we read, something someone said to us that lodged in our minds. There may well have been many of these triggers over time which didn’t come to fruition all at once but which built up over time until it all fell into place. We rightly recognise this to be the work of the Holy Spirit but the Holy Spirit, while she works in the lives of people does that through other people. That’s us: we are the triggers for others. We talk to people, invite them to things, lend them books, whatever and the Holy Spirit does the rest.

To use the language of the parable, we may have been taken on at dawn or at nine o’clock or at midday but there are others still waiting to be brought to the market place so that the landowner can find them waiting for him.

“I came that you may have life in all its fullness.” Isn’t that something we should want to share?

Sunday Sermon - Matthew 18.21-35: Forgiveness

Matthew 18:21-35

 

 

Then Peter came and said to him, “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times. “For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves. When he began the reckoning, one who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him; and, as he could not pay, his lord ordered him to be sold, together with his wife and children and all his possessions, and payment to be made. So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.’ And out of pity for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt. But that same slave, as he went out, came upon one of his fellow slaves who owed him a hundred denarii; and seizing him by the throat, he said, ‘Pay what you owe.’ Then his fellow slave fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’ But he refused; then he went and threw him into prison until he would pay the debt. When his fellow slaves saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their lord all that had taken place. Then his lord summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?’ And in anger his lord handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt. So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”

A priest was called away for an emergency. Not wanting to leave the confessional unattended, he called his rabbi friend from across the street and asked him to cover for him.

The rabbi told him he wouldn't know what to say, but the priest told him to come on over and he'd stay with him for a little bit and show him what to do.

The rabbi comes, and he and the priest are in the confessional. In a few minutes, a woman comes in and says, 'Father, forgive me for I have sinned.'

The priest asks, 'What did you do?'

The woman says, 'I committed adultery.'

The priest says, 'How many times?'

And the woman replies, 'Three.'

Priest: 'Say two Hail Mary's, put £5 in the box, and go and sin no more. You are forgiven'

A few minutes later a man enters the confessional. He says, 'Father forgive me for I have sinned.'

'What did you do?'

‘I committed adultery.'

'How many times?'

'Three times.'

The priest says, 'Say two Hail Mary's, put £5 in the box and go and sin no more. You are forgiven'

The rabbi tells the priest that he thinks he's got it, so the priest leaves.

A few minutes later another woman enters and says, 'Father, forgive me for I have sinned.'

The rabbi says, 'What did you do?'

The woman replies, 'I committed adultery.'

The rabbi, getting it off pat, says, 'How many times?'

The woman replies, 'Once.'

The rabbi said, 'Go and do it two more times, We have a special this week, three for a fiver.'

So, it’s worth getting this out of the way at the start: how are you at forgiving? It’s a struggle isn’t it?

Forgiveness is a process, like grief; it has stages that can be observed and described, though no two people go through the stages in exactly the same way. It’s a bit like this: we hurt, we hate, we heal.

We hurt; that is, we allow ourselves to feel the depth of an injury that has been done to us; we don't minimize it, or try to sweep it under the carpet. And sometimes we wallow in it.

 We hate; that is, we blame the one who has hurt us; we don't excuse what’s happened or try to understand where the other person was coming from, or recognise our own fault in the events. Often we let it eat away at us and we plan petty acts of revenge and endlessly rehearse the event or conversation in our minds so that we come off better.

Finally, when we’re ready, we heal; we let go of the pain that’s keeping us stuck in the past, and move on.

Those stages sound simple, but they always happen inside a storm of complicated emotions. Particularly when the wound is deep, forgiveness comes slowly, and in fits and starts, if it comes at all. Forgiveness may be the hardest work that you and I will ever do.

But what’s the alternative?

Well it’s obvious and most of us here will recognise this scenario: we don’t forgive and we end up obsessed and stuck in the past when most of our family and friends have moved on from support and sympathy and heartily wish that we would too because our obsession, important as it is to us, is starting to seem self-indulgent to those around us. “Not this again. I’m tired of hearing it. Get over it. Let it go. Move on.” Of course, they may not say it but they’re thinking it. Or if we’re honest, sometimes we rather like that feeling of being the hard-done by victim and we can fall too easily into that role in the hope of more sympathy – but the outcome is the same: people get bored with the story.

And, of course, it’s a danger to our mental health and can lead to depression and other complications. An unresolved sense of injustice eats away at our mental wellbeing and makes us emotionally tired and vulnerable.

How many of us are stuck in that cycle of anger and resentment? "No matter what, I will never let go of how you wronged me. I will take this anger, this hatred, to the grave!"

There is no freedom in such hatred because that anger and resentment controls us. It takes over our being, our soul.

There’s a wide range of human behaviour in all of that and I hope you recognise some of it. But we’re talking theory here so let’s look at two simple examples:

Samuel Weisenthal, a survivor of the Nazi holocaust, tells a story that raises this question about as strongly as it can be raised. Weisenthal, a Jew, was imprisoned in a Nazi concentration camp. One afternoon he was assigned to clean a hospital for wounded soldiers and a nurse walked up to him, ordered him to come with her, and led him upstairs to a bed in which a young soldier, his head wrapped in stained bandages, was dying. He was maybe twenty-two, an SS trooper.

The soldier, whose name was Karl, reached out and grabbed Weisenthal's hand. He told him that he had to speak to a Jew. He had to confess the terrible things he had done. Otherwise, he could not die in peace.

He had been fighting in a Russian village where several hundred Jews had been rounded up. His group was ordered to plant full cans of petrol in a big house. Then they marched two hundred people into the house, crammed them in so they could hardly move. Next they threw grenades in the windows to set the house on fire. The soldiers were ordered to shoot anyone who tried to jump out of the windows.

The young soldier recalled, "Behind the window of the second floor, I saw a man with a small child in his arms. His clothing was on fire. By his side stood a woman, doubtless the child's mother. With his free hand the man covered the child's eyes, then he jumped into the street. Seconds later the mother followed. We shot....O God....! I shall never forget. It haunts me."

The young man paused and then said, "I know that what I have told you is terrible. I have longed to talk about it to a Jew and beg forgiveness from him. I know that what I am asking is almost too much, but without your answer I cannot die in peace."

There was silence in the room. Weisenthal tells us what he did next, "I stood up and looked in his direction. At last I made up my mind, and without a word, I left the room."

Do you recall one of the most famous photos to come out of the Vietnam War--a small girl running naked down the road with an expression of unimaginable terror, her clothes burned off, and her body scorched by napalm? The man who coordinated the raid on this child's village in June 1971 was a 24-year old U.S. Army helicopter pilot and operations officer name John Plummer. The day after the raid, Plummer saw the photo in the newspaper and was devastated. "It just knocked me to my knees and that was when I knew I could never talk about this." The guilt over the raid had become a lonely torment. He suffered periodic nightmares that included the scene from the photo, accompanied by the sounds of children screaming.

The girl in the photo was called Kim and she survived 17 operations and eventually moved to Canada. In 1996 Plummer heard that Kim would be speaking at an event not far from his home.

"If I could talk face-to-face with the pilot who dropped the bombs, I would tell him we could not change history, but we should try to do good things for the present." Plummer, in the audience, wrote her a note, "I am that man," and asked an officer to take it to her. At the end of the speech, he pushed through the crowd to reach her and soon they were face-to-face. "She just opened her arms to me," Plummer recounted. "I fell into her arms sobbing." All I could say is, "I'm so sorry, I'm just so sorry."

"It's all right," Kim responded. "I forgive. I forgive."

Two very different examples with two very different outcomes but did you notice that they added something new to the discussion? We had the need for forgiveness and the need to forgive.

Recently, scientific studies are catching up with religious concepts. Over the last few years, studies have been taking place on the concept of forgiveness. Recent research shows that holding on to anger increases your chances of a heart attack as well as cancer, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and other illnesses.

Forgiveness, on the other hand, boosts your self-esteem and lowers your blood pressure and heart rate. Forgiveness also helps you sleep better at night and boosts a positive change in your attitude. "Forgiveness is a decision you make to give up your anger and feelings of revenge," declared psychiatrist Richard Fitzgibbons. He added that forgiving is not forgetting; it is letting go of anger and hurt and moving on.

"Forgiveness has remarkable healing power in the lives of those who utilize it," added Dr. Fitzgibbons.

Today’s Gospel story pretty much sums up all of this but Jesus adds something new to the discussion: he tells the story of the unforgiving servant – a story made up to make a point. We come here week by week and we make our confession to God in a general sense. (It’s left to our private prayers to go over the specifics.) Then we ask for God’s forgiveness. But this story makes it clear that if we don’t come to God as those willing to forgive others we can’t assume that same forgiveness from God. It’s very much a two-way thing: in asking for God’s forgiveness we have to be as willing to forgive those who we believe have done us down otherwise we’re asking for something for ourselves which we aren’t prepared to do for others and there’s a hypocrisy in that which we need to address.

In John’s Gospel Jesus said, “I have come that you might have life in all its fullness.” Today’s Gospel story makes it clear that forgiveness, receiving and giving, is part of that fullness of life that Jesus brings. It takes two to fall out. It takes one to forgive.

You are not excusing the action.

You are not ignoring the wrong, the sin committed and the person responsible.

What you are doing is setting yourself free from the weight of harm that you have carried, maybe for far too long. Forgive. Let it go. Release it. Throw it out. Take back the God-given power you have for your own life. For some, the time is right. For others, it will take time and healing. Perhaps you need to talk with someone, but take control.

Forgiveness is not weakness. It is not passive, not gutless. Forgiveness is healthy. Forgiveness is freeing. It may take time. It may be one-sided. But it will release us. It will set us free to experience more that fullness of life which Jesus promised.

Let us pray. Our God of forgiveness, too often we carry resentment and hurt deep within our hearts. We feel weighted down and there is little joy in our lives. Reveal to us the freeing possibilities of forgiving. May we find wholeness when we let go of all that weight of hurt and resentment. Through Christ, the Forgiver. Amen.