At the edge of 6th street
and I-35 in Austin Texas there was a small, ramshackle building. From the outside, you might imagine
it is a storage room. Instead, every night about fifty men
call this place home or, at least, shelter for the night.
In the morning, these men stood outside and waited. They are day laborers, men whose
income depends on a daily work. They have no salary, no budget. They depend on the contractors who
pick them up in the morning and their promise of a daily wage.
The irony is many of these men use
very little of their wages on themselves. Many of them have family living in
other cities. They have come to Austin because the
climate and economy promises the most work in a year. They save enough for meager meals and
a bed. Everything else is given away to
those they love.
I came to know some of these men
while I was in seminary. Every Friday a group of us would take
homemade bean burritos, fruit and water down to the shelter. We knew there was not much day labor
over the weekend and, for some, this would be their only meal. We began to learn their names and share
stories.
We talked about our families and, of
course, Jesus. By the time I graduated and left
Austin, these men were imprinted on my life. And it is their faces I imagine when
I hear Jesus’ parable of the laborers in the vineyard today.
They know, more than I, what it means
to work for that daily wage. They know, more than I, the
frustration of watching those who work less be paid the same amount. They know, more than I, how it feels
to live at the mercy of the landowner and his justice.
I wonder how they would respond to
this parable. Would they, like me, find it
shocking? Would the story offend or frustrate
them? Would they identify with those who grumble or
those who rejoice in the unexpected income?
Which brings me to the question, who
are we in this parable? Do we
rejoice at God’s abundance or do we grumble about those who we deem unworthy?
A rich young man comes to Jesus and
says, “Teacher, what good deed must I do to have eternal life?”
Jesus says, “Why do you ask me about
what is good? There is only one who is
good. If you wish to enter into life,
keep the commandments.” The rich young man gets
frustrated. He has kept all the commandments and
he wants more. He wants security. He wants to know for sure. He wants to be perfect. Jesus says, “…go, sell your
possessions, and give the money to the poor, and you have will have treasure in
heaven; then come, follow me.” And the rich young man leaves burdened by
Jesus’ answer.
Interestingly, it is the disciples
who are upset by Jesus’ teaching. Peter seems especially frustrated
saying to Jesus,“Look, we have left everything and
followed you. What then will we have?” In this moment, Peter and the rich
young man are the same. Peter wants security. Peter wants to know he’s reached
perfection.
And he wants his reward. He wants to know that all the sacrifices
he has made are worth it.
Unlike the rich young man, Peter can leave satisfied. Jesus promises all those who follow
him heavenly glory.
Yet, there
is one hitch. Jesus says to Peter, “…many who are
first will be last, and the last will be first.”
And he tells the parable of the laborers
in the vineyard.
Peter has his promise, his
reward. Yet, the reward is not only for him:
one who has followed Jesus from the very beginning. The promise of eternal life, a life
bound to God forever, is for anyone who follows. Ultimately, it’s not about how good we
are or reaching perfection. Indeed, there are some who never come
close to perfection and receive the same heavenly glory.
I wonder how Peter felt hearing this
story. Did he imagine himself as first and
balk at the thought of being last? Was the promise of his reward
satisfaction enough? Or did he grumble at the thought of the rich
young man sharing his heavenly glory?
Which brings me to the question, how
does this story make us feel?
Maybe we place ourselves at the front
of the line. We work hard. We try to be good. We know there are rewards for being
good and working hard. And this belief gets mixed up in our theology. In other words, we are tempted to
believe we can earn God’s love. We’re often tempted to believe all of
our hard work and goodness pays off in a great heavenly reward.
Maybe we place ourselves last, at the
back of the line. Maybe we are like the rich young
man. Overburdened by our possessions, we
are unable to leave everything and follow Christ. We know when we have failed. We know there are consequences when
we are not good. We have a keen sense that we do not
deserve any reward, earthly or heavenly.
Those of us burdened by mistakes and
failures are hindered by fear. Our fear keeps us from taking
opportunities that might align our lives with God.
Those of us who see ourselves as good
and righteous become self-righteous. We become dependent on our goodness
and forget God’s goodness.
And we are ALL quick to judge one
another’s reward.
There is one thread that binds us
together. We all depend on God’s mercy. The day laborers need a daily
wage. Whether hired at morning or dusk,
their life depends on the wage they are promised. We need God’s mercy. Whether our self-righteousness or
anxiety threatens to overwhelm us, we depend on God’s promise.
Jesus says
to Peter, “…everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or
mother or children or fields, for my name’s sake, will receive a hundredfold,
and will inherit eternal life…” Everyone who chooses to follow Christ chooses a new way to
live. It doesn’t matter when or how, the
point is we receive a new life in Christ. This way of life binds us to God, no
matter what. That’s a promise.
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