Matthew 20:1-16; September 24, 2023; Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost
There was this boy I knew growing up. Nice kid. But he could also be a bit of a jabroni, as they say. He had a lot: he was given a lot; he was loved a lot. In other words, he was blessed, fortunate, and privileged. He had a younger brother. And he too was given all those things, but he was gentler in his demeanor and considerably less of a jabroni than his older brother.
The older brother would get easily rattled anytime he thought that his younger brother was being favored. Be it in the gifts he received on birthdays or Christmas, or just in the way his parents would treat him throughout the week. And even though the older brother was a recipient of these same gifts, the same treatment and love, it never quite seemed equal or right, at least from his point of view; which, I imagine, a lot of older siblings out here can relate to.
I once told the older brother, “Dude, just look in the mirror; look at all that you have, and all you have been given. Your parents love you just as much! Stop being so focused on everything your younger brother receives, and start being more thankful for what you yourself have received, which has been a lot and given to you generously all the same.”
But would he listen to me? No. Of course not. In fact, next time we had a heart-to-heart, he was complaining and grumbling about something this and about something that. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he was a nice kid, worked hard and all of that, and tried his best. But, boy, was he a chore to deal with sometimes, especially when he thought he was being slighted, or when he thought others were being favored at his expense.
I know all this, and tell you all this today, because that older brother, that jabroni, was me! Yup. That was me. A nice kid. Who worked hard and tried his best. But who was also a bit of a brat, who wouldn’t listen to the right voice in his head or the angel on his right shoulder; and so, I would often ignore my own blessings, and instead complain about what my younger brother, Travis, or others were receiving — even if it was in the same measure as what I had first been given.
Does this remind you of anyone you know yourselves? The person in your own mirror, perhaps, or the one who brushes their teeth in the sink next to you? Well, if nothing else, it should at least remind you of bits from our story from scripture today. For here we have a bunch of dudes, grumblers, who were upset at their fellow laborers for being last to arrive on the scene, and yet in receipt of the same compensation as they who were chosen first.
Now, yes, it should be noted, that they were indeed out there working for longer hours throughout the day. No doubt their backs probably hurt more. And no doubt their hands and feet were probably calloused more than those who only showed up in the last moments. So really, no wonder then that they complained. For perhaps with good reason, they believed they were entitled to more.
But here’s the thing: 1) God doesn’t work that way; and 2) the truth is, they themselves were paid the exact wage that they earned — the wage they believed they would get in the first place; the wage they agreed to work for originally. It’s not like they themselves were cheapened. It’s not like they received less than what was advertised or what they had signed up for. They got what they earned for all of their hard work and not a penny, or denarii, less. So, what difference did it really make to their wallets?
But that wasn’t their complaint, now, was it? No, their complaint had nothing to do with them and their pockets, but rather the pockets and wallets of others, whose they perceived to be less deserving than their own. So focused on everyone else’s blessings rather than their own, they grumbled and complained even in the midst of incredible generosity. And so, rather than being happy for themselves, or for their fellow laborers, who shared a similar station in life, they grew upset and became angry instead.
Our text tells us that the landowner goes out four times to find laborers for his fields. At 9am, 12pm, 3pm, and 5pm. And each time he goes out, he finds that there are more out there willing to work. But make no mistake, this was not a good discovery or revelation, for this is not a story about “hard work pays off” – no, that the landowner finds more workers idling around, even at the end of the day, points to a world that was full of desperation and unemployment, of lacking resources and education, of poverty and extreme inequality, where people would literally wait around all day just hoping they would get selected for a hard, back-breaking, job to do for someone else.
Verse 7: “Why are you standing here idle all day?” he asked them. They said to him, “Because no one has hired us.” …You see, these people wanted to work. They weren’t lazy, looking for an off-day, to celebrate somewhere in the sun with some avocado toast in hand. No.
No, you wouldn’t want to be in their shoes. For at least if you were out there working, you were assured of your pay; while on the other hand, these who had to sit around were left panicked and anxious, wondering if they were going to make anything to bring home that day. You see, they were desperate to get hired, because getting hired was their only ticket to eating; to bringing something back home to their kids; to scraping together enough to make for a marginally better life. These last guys then wished –Prayed! — that they would get picked up as early as the ones who got chosen first at 9am, because working all day meant more denarii, and thus, a bit more food on their plate. Working an hour or two just wasn’t going to cut it.
So, imagine then their happy surprise when they found out that not only were they going to work that day, but also that they were going to make as much as the others who went first! It was like a gift from God; like manna falling straight down from Heaven!
But not so of course for the ones who came first, for the elder brothers like me. To them, to us, this was like a slap in the face, our younger brothers’ livelihood be damned. No wonder then that the landowner scolds them, and rebukes us, asking in verse 15: “Are you envious because I am generous?” Or as the Greek literally translates, “is your eye evil because mine is good?” For if we can’t be happy in the presence of other people’s happiness – in other people’s ability to simply work, eat, and live – then we are indeed the saddest excuse for followers of Jesus Christ.
I had a professor of Greek exegesis who once told me that where he finds Jesus everyday is not in the pages of scripture, in the old text, but in the faces of those standing outside of Home Depot at 5 in the morning. In those who are just looking to get picked up for work; in those who are desperate for some hope; in those who are praying for a helping hand, and some version of generosity to descend.
And that image has always stayed with me. Not because it is provocative – it is – but because I think he was and is right.
You see, we often read into this text that Jesus must be the landowner who is here to declare equality to the masses and justice for all. And while I think that is of course right and a perfectly fair rendering of the text, I also must admit that I can see Jesus standing by his father’s side – the carpenter — waiting on a corner outside a Home Depot in Nazareth, just hoping to get picked up to work with his hands at the end of the day. So to bring back food for Mary and his brothers. To bring back water to his sisters and for his friends and community.
See, I believe in my heart that it was Jesus’ own experiences down in that line of workers, waiting until 5 in the evening, that helped shape his ministry, just as much as was coming down from Heaven as God’s own son. I believe it was there waiting and living amongst the last of the laborers, with the tax-collectors and fishermen, down there in Galilee, where his sermon on the mount took shape, such that he was able to declare, “Blessed are the poor, and blessed are those who are meek (Matthew 5:3,5)” just as he was able to tell us here, that in the Kingdom of Heaven, the world as we know it is turned upside down, such that the last shall be first, and the first shall be last.
Modernly then, I think of the migrant workers out there in the field picking our berries, or the guys riding the lawnmowers greenifying our HOAs; I think of the nurses on the front lines whose names are forgotten in place of the doctors; and our teachers in elementary schools whose lessons we can no longer recall. I think of all these rather thankless laborers and professionals that help keep our days going, and our society humming along; and in all of them, then and there, man, I’d be lying if I didn’t see Jesus working, eating, and living in their midst.
But I think as Christians, and as society today, we too often play the role of the big, jealous, unsympathetic brother, the jabronis, and end up missing Christ there with them, right there in front of us. And so instead of counting our own blessings, and praising God for the abundance we have been given, we instead spend our time critiquing other ways of life, and these laborers who just want a chance to encounter the same blessings and experiences that we have been given already.
So, my friends, my prayer and message today, is much like the hymn we are about to sing. “Take our minds, dear Lord. Take our wills and our ways. And make them your own.” Turn our hearts against false piety and selfish ways. And turn our eyes towards your Kingdom, towards Heaven, where justice and fairness reign supreme, even for those who have shown up late and last to the party.
Amen.
