Readings
Philippians 1.21–end – For to me, living is Christ and dying is gain. If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labour for me; and I do not know which I prefer. I am hard pressed between the two: my desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better; but to remain in the flesh is more necessary for you. Since I am convinced of this, I know that I will remain and continue with all of you for your progress and joy in faith, so that I may share abundantly in your boasting in Christ Jesus when I come to you again. Only, live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that, whether I come and see you or am absent and hear about you, I will know that you are standing firm in one spirit, striving side by side with one mind for the faith of the gospel, and are in no way intimidated by your opponents. For them this is evidence of their destruction, but of your salvation. And this is God’s doing. For he has graciously granted you the privilege not only of believing in Christ, but of suffering for him as well— since you are having the same struggle that you saw I had and now hear that I still have.
Matthew 20.1–16 – Jesus said to his disciples, ‘For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire labourers for his vineyard. After agreeing with the labourers for the usual daily wage, he sent them into his vineyard. When he went out about nine o’clock, he saw others standing idle in the market-place; and he said to them, “You also go into the vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.” So they went. When he went out again about noon and about three o’clock, he did the same. And about five o’clock he went out and found others standing around; and he said to them, “Why are you standing here idle all day?” They said to him, “Because no one has hired us.” He said to them, “You also go into the vineyard.” ‘When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his manager, “Call the labourers and give them their pay, beginning with the last and then going to the first.” When those hired about five o’clock came, each of them received the usual daily wage.Now when the first came, they thought they would receive more; but each of them also received the usual daily wage.And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner, saying, “These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.” But he replied to one of them, “Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage?Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?”So the last will be first, and the first will be last.’
Sermon
In our Gospel reading this morning we hear another of Jesus’ parables that is told in such a way as to deliberately make us uncomfortable and to provoke us into thinking about God’s abundant and almost ludicrously generous grace.
A landowner goes out early in the morning to hire workers for his vineyard. He agrees with them the usual daily wage, and they begin work. At nine o’clock he goes out again and hires some more. At noon and at three o’clock, he does the same. And then, at five o’clock, with perhaps only an hour of the working day remaining, he finds still more people waiting around and sends them into his vineyard as well. So far, perhaps, so good. But then comes payday.
Those who arrived at five o’clock receive the usual daily wage. And when the people who have worked all day see this, naturally they begin to wonder what they will receive. Surely, if one hour’s work earns a full day’s pay, twelve hours must earn considerably more. But no. They receive exactly what was agreed that morning: the usual daily wage. And they are furious.
I suspect many of us can understand why. Because if we read this as a story about employment, it seems grossly unfair. Imagine trying to run a business like this. Imagine discovering that someone who had turned up an hour before closing time was being paid exactly the same as you after you had worked through the heat of the entire day.
But Jesus isn’t offering advice about employment law or wage structures. He is telling us something about God. And the clue comes in the landowner’s response: “Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage?”
And then comes the question at the heart of the parable: “Are you envious because I am generous?” I hope that question exposes something in us; something that I hope we find uncomfortable; something that I hope prompts us to pause and think again. Because most of us like generosity — until somebody else receives more generosity than we think they deserve.
We are often quite happy with grace when it is directed towards us. We are rather less certain about it when it is directed towards somebody whom we have quietly decided hasn’t earned it. And that is precisely the point. Grace cannot be earned.
The workers who arrived first had done nothing wrong. They had worked hard. They had kept their agreement. And the landowner had kept his agreement too. Their anger only begins when they look across at somebody else and start comparing what they have received. Suddenly their relationship with the landowner is no longer defined by gratitude for what they have been given. It is defined by resentment at what somebody else has been given.
Perhaps there is something recognisable there. Comparison has a remarkable ability to rob us of joy, does it not? We can be perfectly content with our life, our gifts, our opportunities, even our faith — until we begin looking sideways.
Why have they been given that opportunity? Why does their life seem easier? Why have they received recognition? Why have they been forgiven so quickly? Why should God welcome them?
That last question has echoed through the life of the Church from its earliest days. Who belongs? Who is properly deserving? Who has been here longest? Who has served hardest? Who understands the rules? Who has earned the right to stand closest to God? And Jesus tells a story in which God simply refuses to play that game. “The last will be first, and the first will be last.”
Not because faithful service is worthless. Not because commitment does not matter. And certainly not because God treats people carelessly. But because the Kingdom of God is not a reward scheme. It is gift. And once we understand that, the workers who arrive at five o’clock begin to look rather different.
The landowner asks them, “Why are you standing here idle all day?” And they reply, “Because no one has hired us.” They have not necessarily spent the day lazily avoiding work. They have been waiting. Perhaps they were overlooked. Perhaps they were not strong enough. Perhaps nobody wanted them. Whatever the reason, hour after hour passed and nobody chose them. Until the landowner came and gives them what they need to live.
Seen that way, his generosity is not simply extravagance. It is compassion. And Jesus says: this is what God is like. God keeps coming out looking for people. Early in the morning. At noon. In the afternoon. Even when the day seems almost finished. God does not say, “You should have come earlier.” God does not say, “There isn’t enough left for you.” God does not say, “You can come in, but you will always be worth less than the people who were here before you.” God says, “You also go into the vineyard.”
And what hope and beauty there is in that love and compassion. It means there is no point in life at which somebody is beyond the reach of God’s grace. There is no history which automatically excludes someone. There is no moment when God stops calling. And there is no hierarchy of Christians in which those who have been faithful longest are somehow more loved by God than those who have only just discovered that love.
Paul understands something of this in our reading from Philippians. He writes from imprisonment, uncertain whether he will live or die, and yet he says, “For to me, living is Christ and dying is gain.” That is not the language of somebody keeping score. Paul’s life has become centred upon Christ. Whether he lives or dies, whether he is free or imprisoned, his desire is that Christ should be honoured. And so he tells the Philippians: “Live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ.”
That means allowing the Gospel not simply to be something we believe, but something which reshapes the way we see ourselves and one another. If God is generous, then the Church should be a community marked by generosity. If God welcomes the latecomer, then there must always be room among us for the person who has only just arrived. If God refuses to measure human worth according to achievement, status or length of service, then we should be very careful about doing so ourselves.
And perhaps Jesus’ parable finally invites us to stop worrying quite so much about where we stand in the queue. Because whether we came at dawn or at five o’clock, whether faith has accompanied us throughout our lives or whether we are still discovering what it means, we stand before God in exactly the same way: not as people presenting an invoice for services rendered, but as people receiving a gift.
The landowner’s question remains: “Are you envious because I am generous?” May our answer always be no. May we learn instead to delight in the generosity of God — generosity shown to us, generosity shown to our neighbour, and generosity shown even to those whom we might never have expected to find beside us in the vineyard. Because the Kingdom of Heaven is not built upon what we deserve. It is built upon the abundant grace of God.
Amen.
