She was going to miss the trip.
And as far as Ron was concerned, that was only fair.
Ron was the leader of the senior high youth at Belmont United Methodist Church in Dayton, Ohio, in the mid-1980s. He connected with the youth and was able to grow the group in size and activities.
The youth would take a big trip every other year, and raise funds for it year round. As things like this go, some youth were more active in fundraising than others, showing up to work the carwashes and the annual youth breakfast on Palm Sunday. Resentment was growing among the youth, and Ron was ready to fix it.
He came up with a point system. He would track how many hours each youth worked, and that would apply toward the cost of the trip. If you didn’t get enough points, you would have to pay a prorated share of the trip.
As the deadline for signing up for the trip neared, a new girl started attending youth group. Ron’s point system was going to penalize her so much, she wouldn’t be able to go on the trip. Ron was determined to make sure the point system was fair and worked for everybody.
The senior pastor, Rev. Don Dixon, called a meeting of the youth and the leadership, and he shared the Parable of the Laborers in the Vineyard. The parallel was impossible to miss – it was directly applicable to this situation. The new girl was like the vineyard workers hired in the 11th hour, while many of the youth would have been like the workers hired at the beginning of the day, having been part of the fundraisers all year long.
The fairness of the point system was that it treated everybody the same. You were rewarded for how much you worked, how long you worked. It made sense, it was logical, it was meant to be motivational for the youth.
But this situation with the new girl didn’t call for fairness, but for grace, the same grace the landowner showed his workers, the same grace this girl needed because she joined in the 11th hour, in the last month.
Rev. Don Dixon said his piece in this meeting, then turned it over to Ron for more details about the trip. Ron immediately shared his chart, showing his point system for fundraising, quite proud of its results. Don Dixon was dismayed.
What happens when fairness gets in the way of grace?
This is where the real lesson came in. Don had a heart-to-heart talk afterward with Ron, and together they eliminated the point system and they explained it to the youth. The new girl got to go on the trip, and it made a huge difference in her life right then.
Ron created the point system because he thought it was fair. He wasn’t trying to hurt anyone; rather, he was trying to encourage the youth. He was trying to help the situation, and in doing so, effectively sold the point system to the youth. He wasn’t the bad guy.
Now here’s the uncomfortable part of Jesus’ parable: What if you were one of the kids who had worked all year long?
What if you had worked the hot carwashes, and showed up early for the annual youth breakfast for the church? You had been hosing Hondas on sunny Saturdays to pay for the trip. You were promised that everybody had to put in their time. How would you feel?// Could a bit of resentment be understood and even expected?
But here’s a detail in this story that Matthew wants us to notice. It’s not just about who worked, or how much they worked. It’s about when they worked—and what happens when the clock is running out.
We’ve talked before about the Fourth Watch—the darkest hours before dawn, when Jesus came walking across the water. This time Matthew gives us another hour on the clock: the Eleventh Hour.// It’s the last hour of the workday.
The Fourth Watch was the darkest part of the night, just before morning. The Eleventh Hour is the last hour of the day, just before evening.
And in both stories, Jesus shows us something about God when the clock is running out.
God’s grace doesn’t have a quitting time.
It would be easy for Matthew’s readers to understand the images in this parable:
· The benevolent landowner is the God-character
· The vineyard, as in the Old Testament, is Israel
· The marketplace is the place where people are waiting to be called to work and serve
· The grumbling early workers are the Jews who believe their faithfulness should count for something.
· The grateful late workers are the Gentiles who are graced with the Heavenly Kingdom, without the lifetime of diligence that the Jews have put in
· The denarius represents the ultimate reward of the Kingdom of God.
But Matthew gives us more understanding in his telling. He seems to put a frame around this story. Just before the parable, Jesus says, ‘The first will be last, and the last will be first.’ And when the parable ends, Matthew reverses the order: ‘The last will be first, and the first will be last.’ I’m not sure I’d call this a chiasm, but it’s almost as if Matthew puts those words around the entire story and says, ‘Pay attention. Something is about to get turned upside down.’
In today’s parable, the God-character–the landowner–tells his manager to pay the last workers first, and the first workers last. Obviously, it would be so easy to do it in reverse, paying the early workers first, then they would be satisfied and none the wiser that the later workers were also paid a full day’s wages.
But equally obvious, those early workers wouldn’t have received the lesson that was being taught about grace and the Kingdom of God unless they were paid last.
You see, the first workers got everything they were promised. They were paid by the end of the day, as was Jewish law in Leviticus. They were the only workers who were promised a certain wage, a denarius, that they agreed to in a verbal contract. You notice that the rest of the workers were promised, “Whatever is right.” They weren’t promised a denarius, and probably weren’t even expecting it. But there was a trust that they would receive “whatever is right.”
So when the first workers saw that the later workers were being paid the same as they were, they didn’t think it was fair. Were they upset that they weren’t being paid what they were promised? No, because they were. That was the agreement, the verbal contract, per Jewish law. It was Ron’s chart of hours worked.//
Instead, they resented the later workers for their equal wages, for the grace they are given.
We saw this same resentment last week when we studied Romans 14. The “weak” believers kept kosher and observed the holy days, and became resentful of those – the “strong” believers – who seemed to receive the same grace without observing the same rules.
Remember the older brother in the Parable of the Prodigal Son. He is angry at his father, and says, “All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. But when this son of yours [he can’t even call him ‘his brother’] who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!”
The father answers, “My son, you are always with me and everything I have is yours.” The older brother wasn’t upset that he wasn’t going to get something. He was going to get everything he was entitled to, per Jewish law. But he chose to show resentment and envy that the younger son would get anything more than he already did. He didn’t understand his father’s generosity.
In the same way, the first vineyard workers found that they were working for a generous employer. After they got paid – what they were promised, mind you – they organized and protested to the landowner. They expected to be paid more because they had worked more. Wouldn’t that be fair? After all:
· They were the ones who had borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat in the vineyard.
· Or, they were the ones who washed cars on summer Saturdays.
· Or, they were the ones who ate kosher foods and followed the Jewish law all their adult lives.
And this is why the landowner had the last workers paid first and the first workers paid last. This gave the first workers the opportunity to see how misplaced their resentment and envy was.
Just like the older brother needed to see how misplaced his resentment was. Just like the youth who worked all the carwashes and church breakfasts.
Grace isn’t only for the people who need it. It’s also for the people who resent it being given to someone else.
George MacDonald, the Scottish theologian whose writings influenced C.S. Lewis, imagined what he called the ‘Flames of Heaven.’ You get to heaven—but it’s not heaven for you. You worked hard to get there, and you don’t want unadulterated generosity. You don’t want benevolence. You’re the older brother.
Then some robber being executed for his crimes mutters a prayer to the man being crucified next to him up on Calvary Hill, and he receives salvation. He’s the soul sitting next to you because of his deathbed confession. And you think: That’s not fair!
But imagine a Heaven where you rejoice, not resent, each soul that comes in. You show excitement, not envy, for each soul that enters. That’s the transformation Jesus is inviting us to have so that Heaven really is heaven to us.
Someone else’s grace doesn’t diminish your blessing.
The landowner made his response personal to the protesting early workers. He addressed only one of them, but he could have been speaking to each one of them when he called him “Friend.”
We all understand why the first workers were upset. But there’s a little detail in this story that I think we can easily miss. The landowner doesn’t call the complaining worker greedy. He doesn’t call him ungrateful. He calls him “Friend.”//
And that’s an interesting word in Matthew. It’s the same word Jesus uses when confronting the improperly dressed guest at the wedding banquet. And it’s the same word he uses when Judas comes to betray him.
Matthew uses it only those three times. So perhaps we should pay attention when Jesus says it.
In this story, the worker is wrong. His envy is real. His complaint is misplaced. But the landowner speaks to him as an individual and calls him “Friend.” In the other parable, the father addresses the older brother as “Son.” Don Dixon pulled Ron aside and spoke to him with respect. All three extended grace.
I asked the question in the beginning, what if you were one of the kids who had worked all year long? Would you feel resentment? What would you do?
When you catch yourself comparing, stop. Remember what you’ve received. Then rejoice in the grace God has given someone else.
· Rejoice for the 11th hour vineyard worker.
· Rejoice for the girl joining the youth group in the last month.
· Rejoice for the robber on the cross on Calvary.
· Rejoice for the grace they all received.
That’s the grace we see in Christ: grace we didn’t earn, grace we didn’t deserve, grace that was given anyway.
Someone else’s grace doesn’t diminish your blessing.
Ron had a chart.
The first workers had a calculation.
The older brother had a ledger in his head.
They thought they knew what was fair. All of them were keeping score.// Jesus isn’t.
Stop keeping score. Start celebrating grace.
Imagine how different our lives would be if we stopped keeping score. If instead of wondering whether someone else got more grace than we did, we could celebrate the grace they received. We would have less resentment, less envy, and a lot more joy.
There’s nothing wrong with “fair.” But grace goes further.
We don’t need a chart. We don’t need a calculation. We don’t need a ledger.
Stop keeping score. Start celebrating grace.
Jesus is telling us: Someone else’s grace doesn’t diminish your blessing.
To the Lord our God, Alpha and Omega, beginning and end, be all glory and honor forever.
