“It’s a Good Thing There Weren’t Unions . . ? St. Matthew 20:1-16

A Sermon by Pastor Boettner

The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost

September 22, 2002

Leonia United Methodist Church, NJ

In the Name of the Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier

           It's a good thing that today's text did not fall earlier in September--say Labor Day weekend. The moral of the story goes against most of the things you and I believe about the relationship between capital and labor.

          We know the story well. A landowner went out about six in the morning to hire men to work in his vineyard. He agreed to pay them the usual daily wage. About nine the landowner returned to the marketplace and saw some other men standing around. He told them, "You also go into the vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right." At noon he repeated this same ritual, then about three in the afternoon he did the same thing. About five o'clock in the evening he went back to the marketplace and found still others standing around. He asked them, "Why are you standing here idle all day?" "Because no one has hired us," they answered. He said to them, "You also go into the vineyard."

          At six, the landowner said to his foreman, "Call the laborers and give them their pay, beginning with the last and going to the first."

          The workers who were hired at five in the afternoon picked up their pay and each of them received $20. So when those who started work at six in the morning came for their money, they expected to receive more. But each one of them also received $20. They were irate. They began to grumble against the landowner. "These last worked only one hour," they said, "and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat."

          But the landlord answered one of them like this, "'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?'"

          Then Jesus added these cryptic words, "So the last will be first, and the first will be last." (NRSV)

          Obviously this story took place before the creation of unions. Imagine what happened here! Some of these men worked 12 hours and some of them worked one hour and they all got paid the same! Obviously, Jesus is saying to us that entrance into the Realm of God has nothing to do with how hard or how long we work!

          That's a difficult concept for many of us to accept. We were taught that if we work hard we will get ahead. If we work hard, our parents will be proud of us. If we work hard, we will be good citizens, good role models, even good Christians. And all of that is true, but listen to the Gospel--none of our good work will gain us entrance into the Realm of God.

          Some of the women, when you were young girls, undoubtedly belonged to an organization known as Brownies. This is the youngest segment of the Girl Scout organization--from ages seven to nine. Like the other members of this organization dedicated to fostering good citizenship and service, as a Brownie one earned "points" when one attained certain levels of achievement or performed various services. One may have accumulated enough points to translate these points into awards.

          So influential has the Brownie organization been that the concept of “Brownie points” has been transferred to general usage in our language. Earning “brownie points” has come to mean earning credit for doing the right thing in a wide range of endeavors. For example, we might say of someone, "she earned a few brownie points with her boss." It means she did something to win her boss' favor. And that's great! We all need our boss' favor.

          But here is the message of the Gospel: we can't build up brownie points with God. "Oh shucks," we're probably thinking to ourselves. "All those years teaching that Sunday School class for nothing. All those years tithing. All those years sitting in those Board meetings. And they haven't earned me a thing." And that's true. If we were doing those things with the intent of buying off God, our efforts have been wasted.

          Some work too hard anyway. Boy, that's heresy in this day and time, isn't it? There was a time when a white collar worker could--with one income--support his family and not work too hard doing it. Welcome to the year 2002. Most families today--where there are two parents in the home--have both parents stressed out from overwork. And don't even think about the stress facing the single parent household. The strain on some of our families is unimaginable. Some in this congregation undoubtedly are neglecting their children, neglecting their marriage, neglecting their health, neglecting their church, neglecting their emotional and spiritual well-being because we are working all the time.

          Lee Strobel was a writer for the Chicago Tribune. One day he went down the hall from his office to the newspaper's library where clippings of articles are filed away for future reference. He needed to look at an article he had written about a year earlier. The librarian took him over to a huge file cabinet.

          "We take one copy of every article," she said, "and we file it away under the name of the reporter who wrote it." She pulled out a broad, shallow file drawer, and inside were rows packed with yellow envelopes that were stamped LEE STROBEL, "Here you go," she said. "These are all your articles."

          Lee Strobel had a strange sensation as he looked inside that drawer. Here was the substance of his entire life's work at the Chicago Tribune. Suddenly it struck him: "This is what I am killing myself for?" he thought to himself. "I'm trading my life for a drawer full of neatly folded newspaper clippings that are turning brittle and yellowing around the edges?" At that moment, it didn't seem like a fair trade. In fact, he felt he was getting ripped off!

          Then Strobel has this to say: "Some people trade their entire life for a drawer full of shopping receipts, or for a wall full of plaques, or for notches on their bedpost, or for a collection of empty bottles. Is it really a fair trade?" he asks.

          Now there are many virtues to hard work--especially when we are engaged in a noble cause. But hard work can't save us. Our good deeds can't save us. Even our generous giving can't save us.

          Listen. Salvation is a gift. We can't earn God's favor, because we are already in God's favor. If we have been serving Christ for seventy years, Christ loves us. If we gave our heart to God five minutes ago, God loves us just the same. There are no first or second-class citizens in the Realm of God. We are all God's children and God loves us all the same.

          And isn't that the way it ought to be? There are enough ways of measuring status in this world without having first and second-class citizens in the world to come.

          Every society, from the poorest to the richest, has some way of measuring status. Back in the days when the stagecoach was the primary means of transportation in the American West, one sign of status was the class of stagecoach ticket you bought.

          It was common for a stagecoach to break down, or to get stuck on a rocky or muddy path. Passengers with a third-class ticket were required to get the stagecoach going again. They removed the rocks or tree limbs that blocked the path, they cleared the mud from around the wagon wheels, they unloaded the heavier items from the stagecoach. If the stagecoach load was too heavy for the horses to pull it up a hill, second-class passengers had to disembark and walk up the hill. First-class passengers were not expected to do any work. No matter how messy the situation was, no matter how stuck the stagecoach was, a passenger with a first-class ticket was under no obligation to help on the journey. He or she simply benefited from the work of others.

          Friend, forget such distinctions in the Realm. God plays no favorites. And that's good. It would be my luck to go into the Realm right behind Mother Teresa. But here's the Good News, it won't matter at all. My robe will be just as sparkling as Mother Teresa's because it has been washed in the blood of the Lamb. And my crown will be just as radiant--though it may slip a little to the side. Whether we've served seventy years or seven minutes in the fellowship of Christ, the reward is the same--the presence, purity and power of perfect love. We shall see God face to face.

          There's an old story told about a little church west of Winchester, Virginia. One Sunday morning, their minister was rather preoccupied. His sermon did not make as much sense as it usually did. As the congregation listened, they became concerned about him.

          At the close of the service, before he pronounced the benediction, he said, "You know that my wife and I have a daughter we haven't seen in awhile: She was living another kind of lifestyle, one that we didn't exactly approve of. She left home, and we hadn't seen her . . .

          "Until we found her the other day. She was in an apartment with no heat, no warm water, no electricity. We also found her with our grandson, three month's old. We asked her if she wanted to come home, and she said that, yes, she would.

          "Many of you in our congregation will not approve of someone like that living in your parsonage. But she's our daughter, and we love her.

          "There are two doors to our church. I feel that some of you won't be able to shake my hand this morning. And that's okay. I'll understand."

          And with that, he pronounced the benediction went to the back of the church, and waited.

          You know how it is on Sunday. For one reason or another, people are always slipping out the other door so that they can get away quickly. But, that Sunday morning, every member of that church went out the front door to shake their minister's hand.

          And it went further than a handshake. The people opened their loving arms wide, and accepted the young mother and child into their congregation. Clothes seemed to materialize out of nowhere. A job was found so that the young lady could make her own way. Babysitters just seemed to appear from out of the congregation so she could go to work. In short, this congregation began to take the Lord Jesus' Christ's message of forgiveness seriously.

          There were those in the community who began to talk. "Did you hear about the minister's daughter who is going to church now? And they're letting her in! Sinners worship in that church!"

          Yes, sinners did worship in that church. In fact, there were people who were members of that church who had not been seen in years, but now began to attend services. They had not felt good enough to attend before. But now they realized that not being good enough was exactly the reason they ought to attend. And attend they did. A church and a community were changed forever when a lost daughter and her child came home.

          I wonder what the people in this community think about this church. Do they see this as a place of grace? Or do they see us as a people who play the same kind of meaningless games that the world outside plays. I hope they see us as a place that welcomes sinners--in the same way that Jesus welcomes sinners. I hope they know that regardless of where their feet may have traveled through the years--even if--no, especially if they have wandered into unsavory ways, there is a home for them here. Our Lord said, "The last will be first, and the first will be last." It makes no difference whether we came to Christ seventy years ago, or if we come to Christ today. God loves us just the same. Do we know anyone who needs to come home? Could it be you?

S H A L O M