Exodus 16:2-15 ; Matthew 20:1-16
When I call the gospel “good news,” it is not without a certain amount of trepidation. Because I know there are parts of the gospel that don’t necessarily strike us as good news. There are parts that makes us utterly confused. And there are parts that make us squirm uncomfortably. And there are parts that, when we hear them, we just say, “Nope.”
Not all of the good news feels good. And I suppose that was intentional. Jesus didn’t want his listeners to just feel good, he wanted them to change! Consider the conversations that have been going on up to this point.
It was just a few verses ago that some people brought their children to Jesus. They wanted Jesus to lay his hands on them and bless them, which seems perfectly reasonable to us. But his disciples were all into crowd control. There were so many people who wanted to see Jesus, they felt the need to prioritize. They made themselves the gatekeepers – no one could come to Jesus except through them. And as far as they were concerned, there were no children getting through to see Jesus. They were too short. But Jesus saw what they were doing and said, “Guys – Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.” So, that happened.
Then a rich young man came to him – the disciples let him through, and I don’t think it was because of his height. It might have been because of his riches. He wanted to know what good deeds he would need to do to inherit eternal life. Jesus said, “Well, you’re going to have to give away all your wealth,” and this young man said, “Ok, thanks,” and disappeared as fast as he could. He wasn’t expecting that answer, and he didn’t like that answer. So, now he would have to go find a second opinion.
After he goes, Jesus makes that comment about it being easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to pass into heaven – you’ve heard this one? You can tell by their reaction the disciples find this as alarming as we do. Rich men won’t get into heaven? That’s not what they had heard. Jesus tops it off with these confounding words: Many who are first will be last, and the last will be first. For the kingdom of heaven is like this – and he launches into this awful parable.
Let me tell you, if you have a bad reaction to the parable, that means it’s doing its job because a parable is meant to convict you. You are meant to feel it before you even understand what happened. With the parable of the laborers in the vineyard, you do feel it. And it’s not hard to pin down the exact point at which you feel it.
It’s not at the point where he lines the workers up just so – the first last and the last first. That’s weird, but we’re not feeling it yet.
It’s not at the point where he hands each one of the one-hour workers the usual daily wage – a denarius. That’s surprising, but we’re still not feeling it.
It happens right at the point where Jesus gives the first workers – those who have worked since the dawn’s early light – how much? A denarius – the very same amount he gave the one-hour workers. Oh. Yes. Now we’re feeling it.
Let’s take a moment to acknowledge that a denarius was fair enough at the beginning of the day when they negotiated their terms. It was fair enough all day long as they worked under the hot sun. It was fair enough until that moment they saw the latecomers – the one-hour-workday folks – receive a denarius. At that point, their mental abacus started recalculating.
“Wait a minute … If these slackers are getting a whole denarius, I must be getting more – maybe 12 times more.” And just like that, they thought they deserved much, much more.
Because I was first. And they were last. And you shouldn’t mess with that.
This idea that the first shall be last and the last shall be first really messes with our heads. It completely turns things upside down. Because we do a lot of ranking and ordering, and it confuses us to turn that upside down.
But, maybe I’m being too literal here. After all, Jesus spoke and taught in parables.
Perhaps he simply meant that in God’s economy there is enough. For everyone.
There is enough food and water for even the poorest. There is enough work for even the weak or disabled. There is enough time for even the children. There is enough.
Like the manna that falls from the skies, the story Israel told about their sojourn in the wilderness. In that time when they had nothing but God, there was enough. There was enough for each one, enough for each day.
The people of Israel had memories of plagues and natural disasters, times of want and times of plenty, and everything in between. And they knew that the Lord had been with them through it all. They knew from their experience that the Lord provides and that sometimes humans are their own worst enemies, when their insecurities and greed and jealousies get in the way of their well-being.
And they knew, just as some of us know, that when you are at your most inadequate, God is most present. When everything else is cleared out of the way, God is there. People often say: God helps those who help themselves. But that’s not what the Bible says. The amazing truth the scriptures tell is that God helps those who cannot help themselves.
The story of the manna in the wilderness is a testament of faith. The gospels, full as they are of parables like this one of the laborers in the vineyard, are testaments to faith. Our life stories, as well, can be testaments to faith.
What does your life story look like if you tell it as a testament of faith?
