A scandalous generosity
Year A – 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Matthew 20:1–16: “You too go into the vineyard”
Today we begin a cycle of three parables of Jesus about the vineyard: the parable of the labourers hired by the day to work in the vineyard, this Sunday; that of the two sons sent to work in the vineyard, next Sunday; and finally, the parable of the murderous tenants, the following Sunday.
The vineyard has a profound meaning in the Bible. One detail in today’s parable immediately draws our attention. Although we are told that the vineyard belongs to a landowner, he never says “my vineyard”, but “the vineyard”: “You too go into the vineyard”!
What is this vineyard? It is the vineyard of the Kingdom, God’s vineyard. But it is also the vineyard of Israel, the people with whom God established his Covenant (Isaiah 5:1–7; Jeremiah 2:21; Ezekiel 15:4). So this “going into the vineyard” is not so much an invitation to work in the vineyard as it is to enter into the Covenant, to share in God’s love.
A scandalous generosity
The parable draws our attention, first of all, to the unusual behaviour of the owner of the vineyard, who goes to the marketplace five times to hire workers: at 6 in the morning, at 9, at noon, at 3 in the afternoon and, astonishingly, at 5, just one hour before the end of the working day. The heart of the story lies precisely in the contrast between the workers hired at dawn and those of the eleventh hour, whom the owner pays in exactly the same way: one denarius each, the wage agreed with the first workers.
But what becomes irritating and provocative in the owner’s behaviour is the fact that he makes the first workers wait so that they can witness his generosity towards the last. At first, this decision raises the expectations of the first workers, who consider him a good and generous master, only then to provoke their protest when they end up judging him unfair. And Jesus’ conclusion is even more provocative: “Thus the last will be first, and the first, last.” What a strange parable!
A challenge to meritocracy
This parable, which we find only in Matthew’s Gospel, was probably aimed at a number of first-hour believers from Judaism who regarded themselves as superior and entitled to greater rights than those of the last hour, the newly converted pagans. This situation in Matthew’s community is far from alien to our own time. Even today there are such “super-Christians”. And woe betide us priests if, by chance, we get on the wrong side of them, because they may be precisely among the most willing and committed members of the community, the “good ones”! Indeed, it could be us ourselves, you and me. Let me explain.
We have often been taught to think of Christian life according to an almost meritocratic logic: multiplying good works in order to accumulate merits in heaven, before God, so as to receive a fine reward in paradise. But is salvation really obtained in this way? The first reading already warns us: “My thoughts are not your thoughts, your ways are not my ways.” Salvation will always be a gift. It is not an acquired right for having “borne the burden of the day and the heat” (v. 12); it is not a wage owed to those who perform certain works. And so the so-called “good thief” is the first to enter the Kingdom, while the elder son in the parable of the “prodigal son” protests — “quite rightly”, from his point of view! — at what he considers an insult from the Father after having served him for so many years.
But if, before God, we cannot claim acquired rights, why make such an effort? Why should I have entered the seminary at the age of ten and become a missionary? Would it not have been better to marry and lead a “normal” life, like everyone else? This is how those who see the Gospel as a burden, an effort, hard work, sacrifice and servitude reason, rather than seeing it as a stroke of good fortune that has enabled us to find the treasure hidden in the field of our lives.
I am reminded of the priest in a story by the Indian Jesuit Anthony de Mello (in The Song of the Bird), who, seeing God grant the same “reward” to his brother, who had led an ordinary life, rejoiced enormously and said to God: “Lord, you are so good that for your sake I would be ready to sacrifice my life all over again!”
Christian life lived as slaves, servants or children
Christian life can be lived with three different attitudes and behaviours: that of the slave, who is afraid of punishment and for whom God is a judge; that of the servant, who works for a wage and for whom God is a master; and that of the child, who works selflessly, out of love, and for whom God is a Father.
In reality, however — and this is the strange thing! — the Gospel seems to address these three ways of relating to God according to their expectations. Jesus says: “Whoever says [to his brother], ‘You fool’, will be liable to the fire of Gehenna” (5:22). To Peter, who asks him: “Look, we have left everything and followed you; what then will we have?”, Jesus replies: “You will sit [with me] on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.” And to those who leave everything to follow him he promises a “hundredfold”, concluding by saying: “Many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first”, which, as it happens, forms the framework for today’s Gospel! (Matthew 19:27–30).
Why does Jesus use deliberately powerful images such as the punishment of “Gehenna” (seven times in Matthew)? Why does Jesus place so much emphasis on “reward” (about a dozen times in Matthew)? Certainly, for Jesus, God is the “Father” (mentioned around forty times in Matthew’s Gospel, including 16 times as “my Father” and 14 times as “your Father”). The Father does not want us to live as wage-earners or slaves: he wants children! And the purpose of Jesus’ mission is to make us like the Father: “so that you may be children of your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:45). God wants us to be children who seek him out of love.
Unfortunately, many times it is fear or self-interest that moves us. And who knows whether even these imperfect motivations may serve a purpose at certain moments in life! Perhaps God knows how to make use even of these imperfect motivations, because he does not want to lose any of his children.
Surprisingly, this conviction that God should be served out of love, and not out of self-interest or fear, also appears in other religious contexts. A famous account from the Sufi tradition attributed to the eighth-century Muslim mystic Rabia of Basra is particularly eloquent: “I would like to set paradise on fire and extinguish hell, so that these two veils may disappear and his servants may worship Him without hoping for rewards and without fearing punishments.”
For personal reflection
- Which motivation prevails in my relationship with God: fear, self-interest or love?
- How would you respond to this provocation from someone: “If Paradise did not exist, would you still believe in God?”
- Meditate on Saint Paul’s beautiful testimony in today’s second reading: “For to me, to live is Christ.”
Fr Manuel João Pereira Correia, MCCJ
Fr. Manuel João, comboni missionary
Sunday Reflection
from the womb of my whale, ALS
Our cross is the pulpit of the Word
