Weekly sermons from the traditional and contemporary worship services at Church of the Incarnation in Dallas, Texas. Rooted in Scripture and the Anglican tradition, these messages explore how the gospel speaks to our faith, our everyday lives and the world around us.
I love the international flavor of what it is that we are doing this morning.
Have you noticed the difference in the accents?
Whether it is H-I-R-E is hire,
or whether the choir sings Hallelujah, all of them are
slightly not the same as what we're used to.
And it says something, frankly, to me, quite lovely, about who we are as the
internationally gathered people of God.
In looking at the lesson, particularly the gospel lesson this morning, I want you
to know, it is for me anyway, a not particularly comfortable parable.
Why? Because this parable of the landowner and the workers that the
landowner hires challenges one of my deeply
sustained beliefs. Beliefs about fairness
and how fairness might apply or not to God, as at least I see it.
You see, I was taught that it was just and right for humans to treat one another
equally, fairly, and that it was, in fact, also godly.
That Jesus loves all people equally regardless of who they are.
And I still believe every word of that.
That no matter who you are, where you have come from, what you have done, or what
your background is, when you come into the presence of God, Jesus looks at you with
great love and receives you as his own, even as you are opening up your hearts to
him. And while it is true that I believe that Jesus loves all people
equally,
I want to add something to that. Kind of a codicil.
An addendum, perhaps.
Because I want, along with equality and fairness, a reward
system that blesses our best efforts with perhaps even better
blessings. There are plenty of churches that teach that,
blessings that I would receive because my hard work qualifies me, as it were, for
such blessings. Just as a boss rewards employees who work harder than others and
bring more to the job than someone else, and therefore duly compensated for their
talent and their effort, so would God also reward those with greater effort and
perhaps even greater faith.
Thankfully, the parable challenges what I believe about that.
And instead of affirming that which I would desire, actually gives me
what I need.
Because in my expectation that blessings be tied to effort,
only a slightly more religious version of God helps those who help themselves,
Ben Franklin among others. This parable does not teach that.
In fact, the real picture of what this parable is teaching can be seen in baptism,
which was celebrated here at both nine o'clock services.
Because you see, if you believe that there really was such a codicil where more was
given to some when it comes to faith rather than others, it
gets kind of uncomfortable when you think about that in terms of baptism.
This baptism, this gift that God gives us, this entryway into eternal life.
Does one child get more grace in baptism than another?
Or what if one parent prays more, gives more financially, more faithful in church
attendance than another? Does that qualify the child, in fact, for more grace?
To put it rather crassly, does merit pass down to children?
Most Christians, I would think, would say, "Of course not."
Does not anyone with even the most remotely Christian conscience recoil at the very
idea of judging a child on the basis of the track record of that child's parents?
Although there are plenty who do. He's from that family.
What if one child is baptized as an infant and another gets baptized as an adult?
Does the adult get more? The answer is no.
Fairness and equality in the eyes of God mean that we all get the same grace.
Or to use the language of the parable, we all get the same wages no
matter when we come into the vineyard.
The one who shows up at the end of the day at 5:00 and works only an hour gets the
same wages as the one who shows up at 6:00 a.m. and puts in a 12-hour day.
You see, what this parable does
is look at us, and in fact, see us as we are.
That even if many of us think we might qualify for some more than others, there's a
kind of laser that God brings into the picture.
The one before whom all hearts are open, all desires known, from whom no secrets
are hid, and says out loud the words that God says to Jonah when he
speaks of the people of Nineveh, who do not know their right hand from their left.
Is it not true that the more we actually grow in Christians that faith, the
smaller we feel,
the quieter our hearts are, the desire even more deeply to know this God,
who, in fact, loves the unlovely just as he does anyone
else. And for anyone who has ever thought of him or herself as unlovely, they would
say, "Thank God that is true." It also shows us things we wouldn't have
noticed about the owner of the vineyard, who personally goes out and hires the
workers. A foreman doesn't do it, a manager doesn't do it, which you would think
would be the case. But the owner instead is taking a personal interest in each
hire, even when it comes to picking up workers for the very last hour.
When it was the last hour, you would think the owner should be asking questions
like, "Well, why didn't anybody pick you before now?
What did you do that maybe I don't know about that would cause you to be looked
over?"
But notice, the owner asks no such questions.
Instead, the owner hires with equal gusto and with equal pay,
the last as well as the first. So that what happens, I would think, for the person
who was picked last, particularly if he or she were just standing around all day
seeing everybody else getting jobs and wonder how they're going to be able to live
in the next 24 hours if they don't get their pay.
There for them is the wonder of relief of being picked finally at the last
hour, paid at the last hour, the same as everyone else.
The joy and the relief of the worker should not be overlooked.
The generosity is shocking if you think about it.
And the message is very clear. Beloved, no matter where you have been, what you
have done, what you have secretly harbored all your life hoping no one else would
know, what you did not do,
not because you were any more virtuous, but because you didn't have the opportunity
to express some of that that was still in your heart, you also can lay down
whatever the burdens are that you carry and know that for you, too, it is not
too late. There is equal grace and equal freedom, even for
those who in their own eyes think they have been picked last.
Lining up for our wages at the end of time because yes, there is that apocalyptic
edge to this parable. I know that those who have worked all day will, on that day,
look over at those who only worked an hour, and unlike those in the parable, will
see the astonishing joy of the recipients and the twinkle of merriment on the
part of the owner giving out the wages, almost like Santa Claus.
It's a day for everyone to be excited.
And those who have worked all day will not in any way begrudge the latecomer.
The relief among all will be palpable.
All who receive what he gives will be received with gratitude, and he will look
at each one as he does in the parable and call us Friends.
Yes, we don't know our right hand from our left.
Yes, there are things about even our well-chiseled reputation that doesn't
always show the real part of who we are.
God sees both of those, and He is inviting us to lay down the burden
of being an actor in one's own life, and to receive in great mercy, before
whom we are open, all that He would desire to give us that would relieve us
of the burden of pretending, and know the relief
of real joy. He whom the Son has set free, are
free indeed.
That is the good news of this parable.
The love of Christ freely given, washing away fears, healing our wounds,
the shackles of condemnation broken by the yoke of Christ.
The self-centered lives that we carry, inherit in our own aspirations, give way
to the joy of a new kind of life, and an invitation to service.
These are people who have been hired to work, and it is in the working that we
discover purpose that we did not know that we had.
Talents that God had placed within us that we never ever thought would ever find
expression. Because when God forms us, He in that formation, as well as in the
redemption, equips us for a very clear and specific role and calling.
And there is a fulfillment that happens when God uses you, and you know the very
best of who you are is used and the very worst of you is forgiven, and you walk
in that light with purpose,
zeal, relief, and the joy of knowing that you
are His above all else, just as you are,
and that He will never let you go.
In the midst of that kind of audacious generosity, family of God, why hold
on to these kind of superficial
papier-mâché divisions over who's better and who's not?
I'm glad you're with us now, but I've been an Episcopalian all my life.
Welcome.
Or the family you grew up in, or the neighborhood where you happen to live.
All of these things are things that people hold onto because they've never really
yet discovered the gift of what it means to be a fully alive human being who no
longer cares about such things, because there's too much great work to be done.
As Isaiah writes, "Why spend your money on that which is not bread,
and your labor for that which does not satisfy?"
Beloved, Jesus has picked us, even if it is in the last
hour. He has accepted us as we are. And to our surprise, Jesus
picks us as we are to serve Him, whose very choosing qualifies us,
even when we feel disqualified. Qualified to serve Him for all
eternity. We are not disqualified for our
shortcomings.
We are chosen because of His love, greater than all of
our sin, all of our shortcomings. Invited into a
brand-new life, for which, thank God, we are
always grateful.
Amen.
Amen.