Sam Bush, “God is Downwardly Mobile”
Well, I’d like to thank all of you for coming in, especially on a Sunday morning, I know it’s inconvenient. You’re all probably wondering why we’ve gathered you here today. But don’t worry. In fact, we’ve been noticing all the work you’ve been putting in. Your prayers have been particularly fervent recently, your singing has been more on pitch, which Alex really appreciates. So, we’ve decided that everyone gets extra communion today. Also, instead of the regular wafers and port wine, we’ve upgraded to some fresh ciabatta and a nice pinot noir. You deserve it. Keep it up!
Ugh, I’m glad that intro is over, it felt so gross to say those things.
Have you ever noticed how religion and work can easily intertwine? In both religion and work, our sense of worth and the way we justify our existence often depends on what we bring to the table. If you’re not bringing a lot to the table, you might feel like you don’t deserve to be there. And if you are bringing a lot to the table you’re wondering if you’re getting what you deserve. Well, Jesus addresses these ideas in his parable from Matthew. Let’s take another look.
One brisk autumn morning a vineyard owner looks out and sees it is harvest time. Grapes won’t pick themselves though so he goes out to the market at 6AM and hires a crew of laborers at a decent day’s wage of, let’s say, 200 bucks. By 9AM, the crew is making headway, but not enough to get the job done. So the vineyard owner goes back to the market and finds a few more stragglers with sleep still in their eyes and puts them to work. He wants to make hay while the sun shines! So he hires more laborers at noon and still more at 3PM. He even hires some an hour before the shift whistle blows.
Six o’clock rolls around. Everyone reports to the vineyard owner who lines them up, starting with the ones who worked an hour. They’re expecting to get a little beer money, but are each handed a small stack of fifties. All the part-timers each get the same, too, 200 bucks. Next come the eager beavers and high-achievers who worked all day long. They’re sweaty and tired and are expecting a hefty bonus by now. But they’re given the same flat rate. “What’s this?” they say. “What do you mean?” says the vineyard owner. “Well, you stiffed us! Those slackers phone it in for forty-five minutes and we slave away all day and we’re paid the same? What gives?” “What gives?” the vineyard owner says. “I’ll tell you what gives. Me! I’m the giver! And I gave you exactly what I promised. You do what you want with your money; I’ll do what I want with mine.” And that’s how the story ends.
Not exactly motivational, is it? This is not a story to teach our children about hard work and discipline! Whatever happened to the Little Red Hen? The Type-A chicken with a Protestant work ethic? She plants the grain and harvests the wheat and bakes the bread without the slightest bit of help from her lazy neighbors – a shiftless pig, a feckless dog and a sluggish duck. At the end of the day, she gets to eat the bread herself while her friends are cast out into utter darkness where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth. I read that story to my kids every night. Because it’s just and fair! Everyone gets what they deserve! But here comes Jesus, undermining our entire social order.
Except, his story does not take place in our society. This vineyard is not located in a democracy, but a kingdom (the kingdom of heaven). There are no unions or laws or contracts. There is no chain of command or hierarchy. The only power structure is Vineyard Owner up here and Laborers down here. What the vineyard owner says, goes. And what does he say? “The last shall be first and the first shall be last.” In other words, “I do not run my business based on merit, but on grace.”
Our world is based on the optimism of upward mobility. It’s called the land of opportunity for a reason. Its dream is built on the idea of endless growth and infinite improvement. Get up at 6AM and work in the vineyard for 30 years and one day your business card could say, “Vineyard Owner.” But a kingdom doesn’t work like that. We were born laborers and we will die laborers. We may try to rise above the rest and set ourselves apart, but God’s social order is a level playing field. In God’s kingdom, we are all gainfully unemployed, job hunting, at the mercy of the vineyard owner. When he goes to the market right before happy hour to hire the last shift of workers, he asks them ‘Why are you standing here idle all day?’ They say to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ You see, there are no self-starters in this parable. God always makes the first move.
With a levelled playing field, the line between deserving and undeserving fades away. Steph Curry, the basketball star, was the best player in the NBA for years but was stuck with his rookie contract. He was getting paid peanuts compared to his other teammates who weren’t nearly as talented. And people were amazed that he wasn’t outraged. When asked why it didn’t bother him, he said, “My father once said don’t ever waste your time counting another man’s money.” This is precisely why the early-risers in the parable are so miserable. They can’t understand that their hard work hasn’t separated them from the undeserving.
It is fitting that we have three infant baptisms today. Later this morning, God will sign a contract with each of them, signed in blood, stating that they are marked as Christ’s own forever. For them, God’s grace is not earned but paid upfront. For them, being a beloved child of God is a tenured position. And one that we never graduate from.
But a child of God is not enough for us. We’d still like to be the favored child. We’d still like a little credit. But have you ever noticed that the moment you take any credit it turns to ash? The comedian Nate Bargatze has a bit about how he thought he had the upper hand in his marriage because he has done his own laundry for the past seventeen years. The thought occurs to use this fact as ammunition for some future argument with his wife, expecting it to be a devastating blow. One day he and his wife are in a fight after waiting for months to drop this bomb on her, when he says, out of nowhere, “I do my own laundry!” He says, “I was shocked that it started a second fight I never saw coming.”
Throughout the Bible, God has a knack for interrupting whatever we think we deserve. Jesus’ parables are full of disappointed high-achievers. Anyone who assumes they are owed a good thing is often met with a splash of cold water.
Now, don’t get me wrong: work is a good thing. Jesus himself worked as a tradesman for 20 years before his ministry. At the end of this service we will be sent out to do the work God has given us to do. But the key word is “given,” not earned. If this parable shows us anything it is that God does not see us according to our works, but according to his gifts.
This will come as bad news to you if you are earning your keep, if you are in your prime right now. But what if you hit a rough patch? What if it gets harder to keep the momentum going? What if you’ve peaked and your most productive days are behind you? Maybe then you will finally come to see that, with God, your contribution does not affect your compensation.
Bob Dylan recently turned 80 and was asked by the New York Times if he had any wisdom to share at this milestone. He said, “The best thing about being 80 is that you outlive the clocks that have been chasing you. It’s freedom from the lie that anything was ever under control. You don’t chase the parade anymore. You’re not rushing to become anything and you’re not haunted by things that you did. You’re haunted by how little of it really mattered in the way you thought it would.” Dylan is experiencing firsthand today’s collect, that “We are placed among things that are passing away….Grant us to hold fast to those things that shall endure.” And what exactly does endure in this life? Well, pretty much one thing. The grace of God.
Our ultimate hope is that, while we might be doing all we can to climb all sorts of ladders, God is not upwardly mobile. He is downwardly mobile. The vineyard owner came down to his vineyard. While his father is the vinegrower, Jesus said he himself is the vine. A vine that would be cut down by our own hands in our own thirst for justice. His blood is the fruit of our labor, but it is also the fruit of his mercy.
Through Jesus’ death and resurrection, Christianity is no longer a job, but a feast. Your justification is not earned but given. This sanctuary is not an office. It’s more like a tavern. A place to gather as a break from work.
In his memoir titled The Tender Bar, J.R. Moehringer talks about a tavern down the street from his house, aptly called Publicans, where all walks of life gather at the end of the workday. Stockbrokers and safecrackers, athletes and invalids, mothers and supermodels. He writes, “We went there for everything we needed. We went there when thirsty and when hungry, and when dead tired. We went there when happy, to celebrate, and when sad, to sulk. We went there when we didn't know what we needed, hoping someone might tell us. Sooner or later everyone turned up there. Most of all we went there when we needed to be found.”
In just a few minutes, you will come up to the bar, or the altar rail, rather, and receive the body and blood of Christ. Everyone gets the same flat rate: the forgiveness of sins. You didn’t earn it. You don’t deserve it. It’s not payment after all, it’s on the house. Everything’s already been paid in full.
Amen.
