It’s Not Fair! Matthew 20 : 1-16
One day a rich young ruler came enthusiastically running up to Jesus and asked: "What must I do to be saved?" Jesus answered: “Keep the law.”
"This I have done from my youth up," came the reply.
Yet one thing do you lack said Jesus. Go and sell all that you have and give it to the poor. Then come follow me.
We are told that the young man walked away sorrowfully, for he had great wealth. Concluded the Master: It will be hard for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God.
The disciples had been watching the dynamics of this happening and they were pretty upset. You see, Jewish tradition had always taught that God had given a special blessing on rich men and that is why they were rich.
In their way of thinking, if a wealthy man could not receive salvation, then how could a poor man have any hope? They asked of Jesus: who then can be saved?
It reminds me of the play, the movie Fiddler on the Roof. The poor Jewish milkman Tevia, who lives in early 1900 Russia sings about what he would do – "if I were a rich man." His wife reminds him: money is a curse. He immediately shouts up to heaven: curse me God, curse me.
Jesus has just turned away a wealthy man, and in the Jewish way of thinking it doesn't make any sense. In fact, I am not sure how many Methodist preachers would have the courage to do the same thing. But it was Simon Peter who drew the question even more clearly into focus for us. He asked the question that is on the mind of every one of us. The only difference is that we are too sophisticated to ask it and too self-righteous to admit that we even think it. Well, Peter didn't have any problem with that. He simply laid his cards out on the table. He said, "Lord, we have given up everything, riches and all, to follow you. What then shall we have?"
In others words, what's in this for us Lord.
How do we stand to profit? Where's the payoff?
In response to Peter's question, Jesus tells a story. It was the harvest time of the year. At 7 A. M. a wealthy landowner went to the local labor hall in the Town Square to hire laborers. He returned again at 9:00, at noon and again at 3:00 and hired others. Toward the end of the day there was still a need for more men. So, at 5 P.M. the landowner went back into town and hired more laborers.
At sunset all of the men lined up to be paid. When they got their envelopes, lo and behold, all of them had been paid the same amount. The men who had worked eleven hours had been paid the same as the men who had worked one hour. This enraged the all day workers. But the landowner replied, "Do you begrudge me my generosity? Am I not allowed to do what I please with what belongs to me?”
This parable of Jesus must have fallen like a bomb on the ears of its listeners. Here Simon Peter had asked Jesus a serious question and in reply he gets a story that on the surface sounds quite ludicrous. A landowner that pays equal wages for men who do not work equal hours. Why, that's not the American way. That runs counter to our whole system of justice and fair play. Who would work all day if you could simply wait till the last hour and then collect a full day's pay? The fact is that deep within us we have a kind of sympathy for those grumbling laborers. The story that Jesus told turns our whole economic system upside down.
And Simon must have been particularly offended by the story because it is obvious who he identifies with. He sees himself as that laborer who was chosen early in the morning and worked all day. He doesn't comprehend why these Johnny-Come-Latelys should have preferential treatment. Now, don't get Simon Peter wrong. He is not opposed to favors being dispensed. He simply believes that if anyone should receive them it should be those who worked in the fields all day--people just like him.
By telling this story Jesus is letting Simon Peter know that the reward that we will receive in God's eternal Kingdom, the reward that we will all receive, will be the same. Peter will receive no more reward from discipleship than anyone else. The person who comes late is just as important as the one who comes early. The preachers, the bishops, even the Pope - need forgiveness just as much as the thieves and drug addicts.
There is the story told of the prosperous downtown church that reached out regularly in mission to small, poorer inner city churches. At an annual New Year gathering of this diverse group of Christians, the pastor saw a former burglar kneeling beside a judge, the same judge who had sent him to jail where he had served seven years. After his release this burglar had been converted and became a Christian worker. Yet, as they knelt there, the judge and the former convict – neither one seemed to be aware of the other.
After the service, the judge was walking home with the pastor and said to the pastor, "Did you notice who was kneeling beside me at the Communion rail this morning?" And then the judge said, “What a miracle of grace.” But the judge wasn’t talking about the conversion of the thief, he was talking about himself. This is what he said:
“It did not cost that burglar much to get converted when he came out of jail. He had nothing but a history of crime behind him, and when he saw Jesus as his Savior he knew there was salvation and hope and joy for him. And he knew how much he needed that help. But look at me. I was taught from earliest infancy to live as a gentleman; that my word was to be my bond; that I was to say my prayers, go to church, take Communion and so on. I went through Oxford, took my degrees, was called to the bar and eventually became a judge. Pastor, nothing but the grace of God could have caused me to admit that I was a sinner on level with that burglar. It took much more grace to forgive me for all my pride and self-deception, to get me to admit that I was no better in the eyes of God than that convict that I sent to prison.”
But yet, that just doesn't seem fair. I was in business for many years and I learned early on that if I didn’t try very hard, I didn’t get very far. We have always been taught: you only get out of something directly in proportion to that which you put into it.
This is not what happened in Jesus' story. In our way of thinking, the laborers who came to the field late got something for nothing. This parable challenges us not to look upon the Kingdom of God, or the church, as a business community. Yet, that is difficult for us to do, because it is our point of reference. We receive the best only when we work for the best.
This is the time of year when we ask various folks to serve on the different committees of the church. What do you think would happen if a person came forward this morning, made a profession of faith, and joined the church? What do you think would happen if later this afternoon, I suggested to the Lay Leadership committee that that this same person be nominated as the next chairperson of the Administrative Board. What do you think the reaction would be? Well, I think I know what the reaction would be. The laity would protest as loudly as Simon Peter is protesting to Jesus.
You see, we live in a world of tenure and seniority and it goes against our grain when we hear Jesus say, "The first shall be last and the last shall be first." Certainly this was foreign to the Jewish mentality, for they were God's chosen people. They were the laborers who had been in the field and worked hard all day long.
Of course, their real problem, and in turn our real problem – is that we really do not comprehend the nature of God's unmerited grace. We sing songs like "Amazing Grace," but the truth is that we are usually uncomfortable with last minute, death bed conversions. Don’t we sometimes think that these persons have gotten away with something? Doesn’t it seem like they’ve been able to enjoy the best of both worlds? It doesn't seem fair.
You know, sometimes I struggle with trying to distil a gospel lesson down to language that can be understood by my children. Grace is one of those topics that you say; “How do I explain this to a seven or eight year old? Well, I read a story this week and one Sunday school teacher finally said to her group of rowdy youngsters: "Look boys, grace is the break you get when you don't deserve it. That's the simple explanation. But you won't really understand it till you experience it."
God's grace is not based upon what is fair, but rather what helps. It wasn't fair that the laborers who worked only an hour receive a full day's wages, but look who they were. All day they had been in the Town Square and no one had chosen them for employment. They were the rejects. You know, even as a child in grammar school I remember feeling uncomfortable when sides were chosen for teams, because invariably I was always one of the last ones chosen. I was always the one saying to myself – “Oh, come on. Choose me!” I could feel the hurt in my heart. The landowner asked of them: Why are you standing idle. Their response: Because no one has hired us. They were the rejects, the bottom of the barrel.
Now go back to the parable and hear again what the landowner said to those he hired over the course of the day. He said, "I will pay you what is right."
What he paid these last workers who were in the fields only one hour was not correct based upon the minimum hourly wage scale, but it was right because of the desperateness of their condition. God's grace isn't based upon fairness; it is based upon what is right and what helps.
Yet I don’t want anyone to get the wrong ideas this morning. Yes God's grace is open to all, regardless of how long we have been in the field, but there is a special payoff for being selected early to labor in the Lord's field. It is the inner satisfaction that we receive from being in God's employ. It is the peace and satisfaction, the improved quality of life, the inner knowledge that we are walking the right road that is the payoff of those who come to the Lord early in life. But aren’t we still so much like those all day laborers. Notice how the scripture is worded: “we carried the burden in the heat of the day.” Isn't that how we so often how we look upon service in the church: not a joy, not a privilege but a burden to carry in the heat of the day? “I’m getting too old. “I’ve done my service. “I’m in the church too much now, you can’t expect me to take on any more responsibility, can you?”
Clearly when Simon Peter asked Jesus what they were to receive from the Kingdom, he had in mind something a little more substantial than inner satisfaction.
You know, I can’t count how many time my kids have looked at me over the past year or so and utter those infamous words: “Its not fair, its just not fair.” But let me tell you something else that wasn't fair. It really wasn't fair that Jesus, a sinless man, go to the cross for your sins and for mine. Yet, that is precisely what happened.
You see, we live in a world of tallies, and accounts, of debts owed and debts paid. We live in a world of boundaries and schedules, spreadsheets and bookkeeping, and of hourly wages.
The Kingdom of God is one of another dimension--one that turns our world upside down. But that is precisely why Jesus was so free. When he chose to go to the cross for you and for me he didn't first ask the questions that we would ask: do I deserve it OR can they repay it. Because the answer to both questions is no.
The economics of the Kingdom of God are quite unlike the economics of the world. And, like Simon Peter, we bitterly complain about the unfairness of it all. We miss the point that if God had our tally book mentality, and went strictly by what is fair, then salvation would be out of the grasp of all of us.
A man dies and goes to heaven. Of course, St. Peter meets him at the Pearly Gates. St. Peter say's, "Here's how it works. You need 100 points to make it into heaven. You tell me all the good things you've done, and I give you a certain number of points for each item, depending on how good it was. When you reach 100 points, you get in." Okay, " the man says, "I was married to the same women for 50 years and never cheated on her, even in my heart." That's wonderful," says St. Peter, "that's worth three points." Three points?"
He says. "Well, I attended church all my life and supported its ministry with my tithe and service." Terrific!" say's St. Peter. "That's certainly worth a point." "One point? Well I started a soup kitchen in my city and worked in a shelter for homeless veterans." Fantastic, that's good for two more points," he says. "Two points!"
The man cries. "At this rate the only way to get into heaven is by the grace of God!"
St. Peter smiled. "There's your 100 points! Come on in!"
