The Gospel reading for this Sunday, Matthew 20:1-16 is the parable of the vineyard labourers and like all good parables it has a punch. The ‘generous landowner’ acts in a way that upsets the good folk gathered.
The landowner calls people to work in his vineyard and they start their shift at different times throughout the day. Eventually, in the evening, when it comes time to pay them, he gives all the workers the same wage regardless of how long they laboured during the day.
Then the parable arrow hits the target and there is painful grumbling amongst those who worked all day in the heat of the sun. There is an exchange and one man complains: “you have made them equal to us.” The dark eye of envy infects the scene and reveals how tempting it is to judge others when we think we have been cheated by another’s generosity,
What struck was the sting in the landowner’s final question: “Are you envious because I am so generous?” It stopped me. Yes, maybe I am. I struggle to accept God’s magnanimous generosity because in my heart I am caught in a limited perception of how things should work: you get paid for the hours worked. You can’t just waltz in late and expected to be given equal share.
The words of Verna Holyhead sgs offer a more mature understanding “The parable ends with a reversal of expectations, “the last will be first and the first will be last.” We are in the territory of God’s kingdom where we realize that the generosity of the Landowner God reaches out to last called as equally as to the first: that, in Jesus, God is present to the people who are poor, sick, disabled; that the tax collectors and prostitutes all have equal access if they answer the call into the ‘vineyard’, a symbol of God’s holy people. . . We need a clear, discerning eye to seek and see God’s ways.
Time to start praying:
Lord, teach me to be generous,
to serve you as you deserve,
to give and not to count the cost,
to fight and not to heed the wounds,
to toil and not to seek for rest,
to labor and not to look for any reward,
save that of knowing that I do your holy will.
by Virginia Ryan